Around Britain

Days 117 to 120: Edinburgh to Dundee

Day 117, Thursday 6th October 2011

The sign was clear: Queensferry 9 miles. That would take me to the foot of the Forth Road Bridge. My destination was a hotel on the far side of the Firth of the Forth in Inverkeithing.

The path had offered me no alternative but at Drylaw, when I checked with a cyclist, I was not heading for Queensferry. I came off the path to seek further directions. A man put me back on the path and a reassuring sign told me that Queensferry was now 7 miles away. In the vicinity of Murrayfield Stadium, a barrier forced me off the path again. A couple of men told me that I'd been heading back to Edinburgh. I didn't argue and took to the roads. Heading west and then north, I reached the A90. As I crossed the River Almond and left Edinburgh, I picked up a cycle path. This ran alongside the A90 until it diverged to reach Dalmeny then Queensferry.

The delays meant I'd be crossing the Forth Road Bridge at night. There were several signs placed by the Samaritans with their telephone number. Pedestrians and cyclists shared a wide pathway separated from the traffic on the right hand side of the bridge as one crossed from the south. This was divided by a white strip with the cyclists on the inside. The railings only came up to my waist. Why is suicide made so easy?

I walked out over the Forth. The water was black at 7.30 pm apart from the wavelets reflecting shore lights along their crests. Behind me the waterfront lights of Queensferry receded and those of North Queensferry beckoned. I was suspended in space. The wind gusted and I felt that a stronger gust might pick me up. I stayed as far from the railings as I could without straying into cyclist territory. Only one cyclist passed me during my crossing and I saw no other pedestrians. I stuck to the white dividing strip as that steadied me. I walked as fast as I could and adopted a crouching gait. This made me feel less prone to being borne aloft and carried away by the wind.

My hotel in Inverkeithing competes for the distinction of being one of the worst I have stayed in. As if ashamed of itself, the hotel hides in an area of modest housing. The hotel sign is on the corner of two streets. In the dark I couldn't see the hotel and the sign provided no clue on direction. At the second attempt I got the right street but walked past the hotel as there was no sign on the hotel itself. The car park gave it away. From there I espied the inconspicuous entrance. By 8.45 pm I was inside and just pleased to be there.

The young man at reception wore a track suit and his manner was casual. He sold me an evening meal (a curry) and a cooked breakfast at £7.50 apiece and took my payment for the hotel as well (£40). He also provided a code to use if I wanted to leave the hotel at night. This was necessary, he explained, as the hotel would be unstaffed at night. In the bar there was Strongbows and Fosters on draft and a few bottles of spirits. I ate my curry (chicken and beans with rice). The young man at reception brought me my food and served my drink. He received a mildly pornographic image on his mobile which he showed to the two other guests in the bar and then to me.

16.47 miles in 5 hours 1 minute Total 1347.8

Day 118, Friday 7th October 2011

At reception around 7 am about five young men milled about. One of them, an Australian, just recruited, was to cook my breakfast. About ten minutes, he said. He returned from the kitchen to ask whether I had a match so he could light the stove. I couldn't find the matches I was carrying in my rucksack so the Australian had to wake someone. The result was hardly worth the trouble. The hash browns were limp, soft and inedible. Apart from the cooked food the breakfast was entirely self-help. You obtained fruit juice and cereal from a sideboard and made your own toast and tea. A fellow guest was an engineer, brought up locally, who had lived in Newcastle for the last 30 years. We had a good talk. He'd been asked out of retirement to work on a contract nearby. He declared that he would never stay in this hotel again. Likewise.

This was a perfect day for walking, cool, calm and fine. As I left Inverkeithing, there were views back to the Forth Railway Bridge. I was wearing shorts but I found that, without a belt, I was forever hitching them up. My solution was to stuff my jacket inside my shorts and this did hold them up. Unfortunately this gave me a bigger problem. The map started to ride up in my jacket pocket and I was constantly having to push it back down. In Kirkcaldy I noticed the map had gone. This was serious so I retraced my steps for at least a mile but it was not to be found. I went up into the busy High Street to buy another one and bought a Ploughman's roll from Greggs. In Greggs a young man pointed out that the counter staff had not given him his change. He said that he didn't want the money himself but that it should be put into the charity box. I thought this very Scottish. The young man wanted it to be known that he hadn't had his change. At the same he made it clear that it wasn't the money itself that he was concerned about.

Now I wouldn't reach my destination (Upper Largo) before dusk. In a section of Fife Coastal Path before Lower Largo, I lost my footing and fell heavily, destabilized by the rucksack. Having checked my map and mobile were still in their pockets, I continued. I reached the Upper Largo Hotel at 8pm having walked the last hour in darkness. The publican recognised me as soon as I entered the bar (he had no one else staying that night). He booked me in for a meal at 8.30 to give me time to get cleaned up and changed. The restaurant was large and there were many diners. The publican waited at table with the help of three waitresses. A party of 8 MacMillan nurses were celebrating the birthday of one of their number on an adjoining table. I was struck by how fussy they were about their food. At least three sent their meal back so that something could be changed. I found the meal excellent and drank two pints of Belhaven's Best.

31.51 miles in 10 hours 55 minutes Total 1379.31

Day 119, Saturday 8th October 2011

I watched Wales and France prevail at the Rugby World Cup in New Zealand. France beat England 19-12 having led 16-0 at half time. Started walking at 10.30. Intermittent showers all day but never heavy rain. Went past 4 Mid Shore St Monans. My parents' old friend, Hilary Wickham, had been living there when we were last in touch at least ten years ago. I had once promised to call on her on my journey round Britain but she must have died or be in a residential home by now. The Xmas cards just stopped and there was no one I could ask so I never knew what happened to her.

After Crail I took the road to Fife Ness. I passed a board advertising industrial units but it didn't look as if a single unit was occupied. All the buildings in the vicinity looked like the dilapidated remnants of an abandoned airbase. I also passed a tall dark house in a copse of trees (Balcomie). It looked imposing but lifeless.

The area around Fife Ness had been possessed by golfers. Large numbers of them were intent on some competition as I went by at 5.30. The Coastal Path was partly forced onto the beach by this activity. ‘Danger Golf in Progress' signs proliferated. One drive surprised me and the ball whizzed by quite close.

It was just dark when I reached the B & B I'd booked at Kingbarns. The Barns Pub almost next door served me my dinner.

23.16 miles in 8 hours 27 minutes. 1402.47

Day 120, Sunday 9th October 2011

Jim, my host, who had greeted me last night, had left at 5 am to attend a bird show in pursuit of his interest in Red Poles. He had an aviary out the back. Jayne, his wife, cooked me breakfast. She said, in response to my question, that there wasn't much red tape as they only had three rooms for B & B. They had public liability insurance and the Council inspected the kitchen. £35 was good value.

I made slow progress at the start as the Coastal Path was incomplete. Some sections went along the beach. I made very poor time up to St Andrews and then picked up the pace. I crossed the old bridge at Guardbridge now used only by pedestrians. Shortly afterwards I had a brief stop at Leuchars Church. Leuchars is an air base and the homes are surrounded by a wire fence topped by barbed wire. I walked for miles through Tentmuir Forest with limited views.

I reached the Tay Road Bridge in daylight. Pedestrians and cyclists shared a rather narrow central track between the two carriageways. Given the hour and the shorter distance, there were more people crossing than on the Forth Bridge. The bridge rested on short pillars so I was much closer to the water. On the far side I was in Dundee.

I had great difficulty finding the hotel I'd booked. Was impatient with the young man at the hotel whom I phoned for directions. He made a slightly irritating clicking noise while he was studying the map. When I found the Craigtay Hotel, this young man turned out to be the receptionist, bar man and waiter. Staff had been laid off for the quiet season. I apologised and offered to buy him a drink. He said that wasn't necessary. I discovered over dinner that the young man had taught mountain biking at Aviemore for a couple of years. Money had been spent on the hotel and £45 was a fair price for B&B. The same young man served me at breakfast at 7.15. I left a £5 tip.

30.98 miles 11 hours 29 minutes 1433.45