Our final day was to be the seven and a half miles from Kingsbarns to St Andrews.
We met at the breakfast table. It looked as if it was going to be another glorious day as the sun shone directly into the eyes of those facing the east windows. Elton donned his napkin to hide his eyes from the bright light.
Mushroom announced he had the lurgy – Covid, of course – but he still felt he’d be able to complete the hike. (He was – Ed.)
We finished breakfast and checked out in sterling. Four cars were driven to St Andrews, one of which returned to Kingsbarns with the drivers. The rest of us went directly to Kingsbarns in the fifth car. It’s a fairly obvious solution to the logistics issue but it was arrived at only after the usual long discussions.
It was approaching 10:45am when we departed the car park. The screen tests for “(Old) Men in Black” had gone reasonably well, but a couple of us missed out due to lack of preparation, forgetting some obvious and essential props.
Our walk was initially along a path round St Andrews Cove. From Babbett Ness we could just make out Carnoustie, Monifieth and the scenery-enhancing wind turbine dominating the Ferry.
The path hugged the coastline and the expanse of the North Sea between the Forth and the Tay was in marked contrast to the Firth of Forth.
How big is the North Sea?
As we approached Boarhills the scenery suddenly changed. We turned left through a den which provided dappled shade and relief from the bright sunlight. It was totally unexpected given the relative starkness of the hinterland we’d just traversed.
A bridge at the end of the den took us over the Kenly Water and we emerged into open farmland. We paused for a drink and a snack. Elton was complaining of a stone in his shoe which turned out to be a blister. Radar provided a Compeed to cover it. Amazingly this proved to be the only walking injury amongst the group.
All good to go again, we resumed the walk on the path between fields which brought us back to the coast.
Pud paused for a moment of appreciation and wonder.
This remarkable stack of pink sandstone is Buddo Rock – a prominent feature on this part of the coast.
Our easy walking was soon curtailed as we encountered the steepest terrain of the trip – up and down cliffs on stone stairways for much of the remainder of the journey.
At times we descended to beach level only to find ourselves scrambling over rocks.
We knew we were getting closer to our destination as a small formation of Eurofighter Typhoons flew overhead, presumably heading for RAF Leuchars.
We skirted another unique stone stack standing erect in proud isolation at low tide – the Rock and Spindle.
An ancient Pictish fertility symbol perhaps?
Mother Nature works in mysterious ways…
At the top of the cliffs the path adjoined the fairways of the Kittocks and Torrance golf courses, part of The Fairmont Golf complex. As with all the courses in the region these were in fantastic condition, and the exceptionally warm weather this late in the season would have made them a delight to play. Thoughts returned to our pre-hike decision not to play golf in the afternoon…
There were clear views of St Andrews as we approached from the south east but were too busy catching our breath after the steep cliff ascents to fully appreciate the moment.
This hike was a dawdle for His Handsomeness. Everest Base Camp and the Camino de Santiago might be tougher for completely different reasons, but we bet they can’t beat Scotland’s combination of weather, scenery and ambiance.
Not to mention the cameraderie. Or whisky. Or pies.
Our final gathering before we finished was at the entrance to Kinkell Braes caravan park, where we took the final walk photo. Sadly we couldn’t find anyone to do a group photo of all 8 walkers.
So we sent on a substitute and took another photo…
This last hour had been the toughest walk of the three days, and we were all pleased when we reached St Andrews Leisure Centre having completed our journey.
We sat in the sunshine for half an hour and enjoyed coffee and donuts from the nearby kiosk before heading home.
The cars were in the right place.
We were eight septuagenarians (or nearly) walking 25 miles, enjoying the exercise, the scenery and, most importantly, each others’ company.
Until the next time…
Last of the Summer Wine – The Cast:
