Off the Beaten Coastal Path

The Fife coastal path in Scotland!  Our bit: Kirkcaldy to Crail. 37 miles. Picturesque most of the time, sometimes industrial. Rural and urban, but mostly rural. And the Firth of Forth and the North Sea on our right. Uncrowded.  A few other hikers but mostly local dog walkers and joggers.  We went through fields with Highland cows and sheep, green rye fields, bright yellow rape fields, quaint coastal fishing villages with their lobster pots stacked everywhere. 

Then there were the golf courses where we literally walked through the fairways, keeping an eye on the golfers teeing off.

We trekked through suburban communities, past giant wind turbines, grain elevators, WWII bunkers, castles, caves and huge mobile vacation home parks.  

The path was flat, marshy, hilly, rocky, beachy, with cliffs and drop offs, and several stretches along roads—both country and major A roads.  Up stone stairs, down steep paths, over stone fences, through animal gates.  Past playgrounds and cemeteries.

In many places coastal erosion caused the path to be diverted away from the coast.  Lots of “Path closed, danger!” signs. It’s an ongoing serious problem that will continue to alter the path. 

The most infamous part of our hike was the Elie Chain Walk.  It a series of nine chains bolted into coastal cliffs with narrow rocky ledges to walk on just above the crashing waves of the North Sea—a 1/2 mile of terror.  Fortunately for us, the coastal authority lists the safe times to walk it based on the tides.  We were a “red no-go” because of high tides when we reached the chain walk.  The safe alternative path took us high up to the cliff above the chain walk.  Scary enough in its own way.  Looking down, we breathed a sigh of relief.  The chain walk would have been terrifying.  

We had incredible luck with the weather.  Two days of partly sunny and on the last day when the weather reports said rain and wind all day, doom and gloom, we got one brief shower.  A strong wind off the North Sea was chilly, but we did get some sun and a real sense of what living on the North Sea coast might be like. And this was May.  The locals kept saying “It’s Scotland after all.”

It wasn’t really a strenuous hike like a Cascade mountain trail—the most elevation gain in any one day was about 300 ft. But we were leg weary, exhausted by the end of each day!  14 miles the first day and nearly as much the last day! 12 mile average per day. Some small aches and pains. Nothing that two Ibuprofen couldn’t relieve. While there were small towns and villages along the way, there were significant stretches with nothing but path, coast and us.  

Through all of the twists, turns, and detours, the path was clearly — crystal clearly marked — with Fife Coastal Paths medallions and arrows pointing the right direction.  

With that and the app provided for our cell phones we never once got lost. Not even close!  Of course, every fork in the path triggered a conference with our hiking partners. 

It was a very pleasant contrast with our Minister Way hike  in York several years ago where we got lost every day and rarely saw another human.

We had arranged the hike through a company, MACAdventures which provided luggage transfers and accommodations along the way — three charming hotels and one B&B.  The Ship Inn https://shipinn.scot/ in Elie was the favorite.  It’s an old inn on the waterfront with a restaurant and a lively bar filled with locals and dogs. Lots of dogs. 

Breakfasts were always included which meant you could start the day on a full Scottish—toast, eggs, fried tomato, baked beans, hash browns, oat pancake, sausage, bacon, black pudding, and, yes, haggis — and skip lunch all together! 

The evening meal was usually in the hotel pub or dining room which also provided the evening’s entertainment — chatting with a fellow hiker or to the locals who often seemed surprised we had chosen their corner of Scotland for our hike, and us loving the sound of the Scottish brogue with its “ayes, nayes, youses”.  

And a wee dram of whisky to top off the evening. “Slainte mhash!”

Would we do it again?  Aye, in a heart beat.