This may be an obvious statement to most of my readers (and my apologies to those for whom this comes as a surprise) but walking the Fife Coastal Path requires one to walk, ramble and hike. Walking is something my body has been doing successfully on a daily basis for a fair few years, but since my body is no longer behaving itself, this has now become a bit of a challenge. Will it stop me trying to get along the Fife Coastal Path to the end? Will the Fife Coastal Path, in effect, win?
Not likely! I am quite a determined (stubborn) person with a self-reliant (independent) outlook and a practical approach to solving problems (I like to win). So I've decided to start walking pavement sections of the Path in short bursts. I really, really wish that this involved some sort of rocket propulsion because that would be awesome and this would then be the best blog in the universe. But it doesn't, it just involves a rollator (or as my dad calls it, a travelator). For those of you who don't know what that is, do what I did and search Amazon for "rollator" and what you'll see is basically a zimmer frame on wheels with a seat.
So I will amble rather than ramble for a little while, but will still be able to quench your thirst for knowledge you didn't know you needed. I will also be able to rest comfortably on my mobile seat and record photos of the beautiful Kingdom of Fife for you to enjoy from your seat. I'm not really sure what will happen when I reach rough terrain sections of the Path but I will cross that bridge (or beach/river/field) when I come to it.
There are areas of the Coastal Path that are heart achingly beautiful and there are areas which need to be hurried through in order to reach another beauty spot. Today's walk had both of these and more besides; including (but not limited to): deep blue sky, bright white cotton-wool clouds and the joy of glorious hot sunshine.
On previous walks, I have avoided walking the section between the Tay Road bridge and the Tay Rail bridge because it is a pavement walk stretching for a couple of miles beside a busy road and in my opinion, with all the beautiful places available in Fife, who wants to walk on a pavement beside a road in the middle of a small town? As always, opinions are relative and subject to changes in circumstances. When I started planning my return to rambling, I soon realised that this section of the Path was perfect for my first outing with a rollator, despite the fact that I had not yet managed to get one that was rocket-propelled. Once the rollator was set up, and by occasionally using my friend as my other walking aid, we set out.
It was cool and shaded as we ambled beneath the huge concrete road bridge abutment. The busy road was on our left; it was narrow and required drivers to be patient as they negotiated the stops and starts, pulling in and out between parked cars to let buses pass in a weird, vehicle version of "hide and seek". It was worth looking to the right instead, partly to avoid the stares of bored, stationary bus passengers, but mostly because the gaps between the square, stone buildings allowed glimpses of the blue Tay river slowly gliding its way to the sea. Over the water, the Law hill stood proudly at the rear of Dundee, it's crowning pylons rising high above the city that squats beside the river.
As we walked, the snapshot images of Dundee that we could see between the houses gradually changed. We started to see the outskirts of Dundee, then the hills and beaches with the curving line of the railway arcing it's way across the horizon on bridge girders and then propelling itself into the city. The houses which interrupted the view came to an abrupt end and the view looking towards the rail bridge was one of the views which memory captures and keeps in its archives. Beneath us on the Tayport beach, an angler waded waist deep in the churning waters. From this distance, the bright yellow sandbanks in the deeper water were sprinkled with dark flecks of seabirds, the sound of them calling to each other drifting towards us. To the left were the chequered summer-gold and chocolate-coloured fields of Wormit Bay curving round to meet the bright green woods of Balmerino. As I stopped to take photos, I could hear birds rustling in the trees and bushes nearby and smell a little salt from the sea. A perfect view.
That was enough walking for my first day back out there and my friend kindly brought the car to where I was parked, rather than the other way round. We pulled in for a little pit stop beside a jauntily painted fountain, which my friends and I have always called "the band-stand". I have passed this fountain many times in the past, but have never stopped to admire it. It's been here since 1882 and even though it no longer provides cool drinking water for the casual visitor, it is still a beautiful, sculpted iron display, lovingly softened by layers of paint through the years. It has recently been re-painted, the colours are vivid and striking, pristine white arches contrasted with gold images on a scarlet background. At the top of the fountain is a gold-painted heron and herons are the images placed all around the fountain's arched shelter - apart from one. On that one image, a stag proudly displays its antlers below the Latin motto "spero meliora" (roughly translated as "I hope for better things").
Speaking of better things, while I was on Amazon (other shopping websites are available) I found "Science Museum Cosmic Rockets" for sale and found myself wondering if duct tape would hold them to the legs of my rollator. Perhaps I could make this a rocket propelled rollator blog after all. Or, rather than reading this blog, you could keep an eye on the news headlines, I may soon make history (or a large crater).
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