This part of the Coastal Path is neither on the coast nor is it a path, it’s a 2 and a half mile stretch of “quiet rural roads” (as it’s described on the map). Actually, that was fine with me because today was not a day for being up hills or on cliffs. The sky was grumpy; a seemingly enormous single thick grey cloud covering every part of the sky. It was dry, with no sleet, so I suppose it was an improvement on yesterday, but the wind felt sharp and icy when it blasted against my face. The views were quiet and rural, as the map had promised. A cluster of tiny birds rested from the wind high up on the naked branches of a tree, while below them in the ploughed fields pheasants courted. I stood and watched a little while as two males in their best, brightly coloured outfits duelled each other for the attention of a dull female whose speckled beige and brown feathers were perfectly matched camouflage to the dried mud. She may have looked dull but she was smart enough to avoid both of them, running between them to reach the cover of the hedge. Too engrossed with fighting each other, I’m not even sure if they saw her leave.
I kept walking until I spotted a flash of movement through the trees, the white rumps of two deer as they raced across a green field heading for the woods. They moved so quickly, there was no time to reach for phone or camera, but there were a few seconds to smile as I admired their grace and elegance; the strong muscles in their legs pushing them uphill, their long necks and gentle faces looking straight ahead, ears twitching. That moment was worth the walk.
As I wandered past Hazelton Walls, I started thinking about place names. The origins of some of the names are reasonably easy to work out, “a wall (or well) by the settlement near the Hazel trees” became Hazelton Walls, "a den or valley with a mere" became Muir Dens. My destination today was Pittachope and the origin of that name is a little more challenging, even for the researchers whose job it is to know about these things. Apparently, since it’s first documented usage was in 1390, it may be derived from Pictish, rather than Auld Scots and the knowledgeable researchers think it means “farm of the willow place”. Who am I to argue? As a place name, it may not sound as exciting as others I hope to pass on The Path such as Hawkcraig, Drinkbetween or Gallowridge (yes there used to be gallows there) but I was intrigued to see if there were still plentiful Hazel or Willow trees in Hazelton Walls or Pittachope.
Sure enough, behind the broken-down dykes at the side of the road were a few witch-hazel trees. The hazel hadn’t woken up to spring yet and the small trees looked more like upright bushes than trees, but it was somehow reassuring to know that they were still there a few hundred years after a small hamlet was named for them. There were no willows that I could see at Pittachope when I got there, it is now a vast area of farmland, with huge open fields and low cropped hedges and stone dykes.
I passed through Creich (it means “bare hill” in case you’re interested) along the way and stopped to look at the castle. It stood on a mound next to a marshy lake where a pair of swans drifted along past a few brightly coloured mallard ducks who quacked at them. The ruins are a tall tower house and a smaller gatehouse built in the 16th century, but other than that, it is unremarkable, nothing much happened here. No royal visitors, no battles or sieges, no famous inhabitants. The land was originally owned by the MacDuff clan (of Macbeth fame) but they didn’t build the castle that stands now. All in all, it was just a quiet backwater farm-holding on a “bare hill” that the owners were trying to keep safe by building a 3 storey stone tower and protecting it with a courtyard and gatehouse. A backwater with hazel woods, willow trees, pheasants and deer, an artificial lake with swans and ducks swimming lazily on it. All in all, it must have been a beautiful place to live out a quiet life.
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