Loch Leven

We return east to the kingdom of Fife this week to visit Kinross and Loch Leven.

Loch Leven (Kinross-shire) lies between Edinburgh (31 miles) and Perth (20 miles), in the east of Scotland’s Central Lowlands.

Kinross is a commuter town that has grown from its old village, on the shores of Loch Leven.

Loch Leven, the largest loch of the Scottish Lowlands, is the main feature of this area. Declared a nature reserve in 1964, the Loch today is of international importance, attracting around 15,000 wild geese every autumn.

Sitting peacefully on an islet in Loch Leven lies enchanting Loch Leven Castle, the Castle gained infamy when it acted as a prison to Mary Queen of Scots in 1567. Her dramatic escape by boat is one of Scotland's most romantic tales.

It is from Kinross that we park the car and head round the Loch Leven Heritage Trail, Emma by bike and Eric by running shoe. Loch Leven Heritage Trail is a unique trail linking natural, historic and cultural heritage around the north and east shores of Loch Leven. Level and barrier-free for most of its length the path provides a comfortable surface to run and cycle on as we leisurely cover the 12.5kms from the Pier, Kinross to RSPB Vane Farm. The trail is furnished with multiple interpretation facilities coupled with finally crafted seats and stone sculptures. Lasting views of the loch are restricted by the wandering nature of the path and the abundance of shrubbery around the loch's shores but this restriction is compensated by the sound of flight calls overhead which herald the arrival of thousands of pinkfooted geese to feed in stubble fields, while flocks of fieldfares and redwing search for berries in woods and hedgerows.

At Vane Farm the trail ends and we take to the drudgery of tar macadam road back to Kinross, an extra 10km on a busy commuter road that brings sole enjoyment in reaching its end.

Road section apart, the trail was a hidden gem and one we aim to pay a return visit to albeit the next time will be Vane Farm and return via the comfort and tranquillity of comfortable pathway.

Coastal Path To England

This week we revisit the Berwickshire coastline to complete a meander we started on February 21st.

Our walk (nay march) will take us from Eyemouth on the Scottish border to Berwick-Upon Tweed in England. A coastal walk of 11 miles, it encompasses sweeping sandy beaches, rolling dunes, rugged cliffs, and evocative vistas of abandoned crofts on headlands, combined with the intimacy of picturesque fishing villages and the obligatory links golf courses.

Parking the car at Eyemouth we take a leisurely stroll around the town before picking up the coastal path at the south end of the harbour. It is refreshing to see that this small idyll is still an active fishing port as witnessed by the numerous vessels in port with nets awaiting repair at the harbour side. An added bonus before we embark upon the route is the sight of two friendly seals feeding from some passers-by who are throwing them some fish that they have recently acquired from a nearby Fish and Chip shop, seals in these parts seem to prefer their fish in batter with added salt and vinegar apparently.

Our first hour on the walk makes for slow progress as we amble around Eyemouth golf course looking at the various hackers as they struggle around a quite fearsome links course which today is providing precipitous wind conditions adding further discomfort to their game. Once we are clear of the golfers we walk over Fancove Head and down into the small village of Burnmouth which nestles in its own secluded bay and is now a defunct fishing village. Climbing out of Burnmouth the path turns back on itself and heads north, these many staggers and doglegs in coastal routes does make one wonder how accurate these coastal paths are measured. We have seen this one measured on various journals at 9.5, 10.5 and 11 miles, the longest one in our experience tends to be the most accurate.

From here the path runs adjacent to the main Edinburgh to London railway line passing Hilton Bay and across the English border which is highlighted by an old British Railways signpost as you cross from one country to the other. Pressing on towards Needles Eye (an unusual rock formation protruding from a headland) we stop to wonder at feeding Gannets as they drop from the sky in search of food. Although ungainly on land, gannets are magnificent in flight. When searching for food they fly parallel to the coast, between 1 and 20 metres above the sea, looking for schools of fish. They plunge headlong as soon as they spot their prey. Just before they hit the water, they fold in their wings to swoop down beneath their food. They can enter the water at speeds up to 145 kilometres an hour, relying on inflatable air sacs around the neck and chest to absorb the shock of impact. We watch from high above their entry point and find it hard to identify their success rate but can’t help thinking that the seals back in Eyemouth have an enviable lifestyle in comparison to these hi-energy Raptors.

Just before we reach Berwick we pass through our second caravan park of the journey. Is there any stretch of coastline unaffected by these growing blots on our coasts? Not only are the sites growing unhindered but they are also being populated by vans of a visually abhorrent identity. No attempt at colour cohesion between van owner and countryside is adhered too and the caravans now resemble small houses without the normal planning consents. The owners of these sites apply the simple philosophy of stacking as many vans as possible in to whatever space he/she has or can acquire before sticking a tacky, cheaply constructed club/pub in the middle of it for further profit. Adds to the local economy they would have you believe.

Plotting a route through these massive sites for the first timer can be quite a tester as every lane has a similar appearance to the lane you have just came from i.e. no lighting, no trees, no door numbers, no ambience, just row upon row of aluminium and glass. One wonders at the confusion that must ensue at closing time of a Saturday evening as the hordes of well lubricated wander around for hours in the dark continually entering the wrong vans.

Thankfully for us, daylight and the sound of a passing train provides us with a reference point that helps to guide our way from the site and in to Berwick.

Berwick is a town with a bloodied past, between 1296 and 1482, Berwick was besieged and assaulted on more occasions than any other town in the world other than Jerusalem, changing hands no less than 13 times! For many years it was in the possession of the Scots but is now regarded as England’s most northernmost town. It is built mainly of stone in grey to pinkish brown. The town is piled upon a peninsula at the mouth of the Tweed and it faces the river, rather than the sea. Three great bridges connect it with Tweedmouth on the south side of the estuary: the low stone bridge with 15 arches of varying height and width, completed in 1634; the 1928 concrete span known as the Royal Tweed which has just had a recent facelift and the railway’s Royal Border with its 28 soaring arches, completed in 1850.

The importance of its strategic position and the evidence of its turbulent past can be seen in its 18th century riverside walls which were rebuilt with gun emplacements overlooking the river mouth.

Sadly the fading light dictates that we must curtail our visit to this historic town as we board a local bus which takes us back across the border to Scotland and a fish supper from the seals' favorite Fish and Chip shop in Eyemouth.

Back To The Mountains

Back to the mountains for this weeks adventure as we tackle Ben Lui in Argyll.

Ben Lui is the highest and most famous of a group of four Munros that lie south of Glen Lochy, and about 10 km north of the top end of Loch Lomond. Having seen various images of its range of peaks we have been looking forward to conquer this one for some time.

It is early o’clock when we set of up the A82 towards Tyndrum where we turn left on to the Oban road for 10 or so miles to reach the well used car park at the foot of the climb in Glen Lochy. Recognising that it has been some time since we climbed a Munro, we set of in some trepidation as to the pain our thigh muscles may have to endure on the return down the 3703ft. It is not long before we meet our first obstacle in the shape of the free flowing River Lochy which thankfully is not in spate (we have heard stories of attempts on Ben Lui failing at this early hurdle). Managing to keep our feet dry we hop across some well placed stepping stones, this fine effort at even weight distribution to keep our pedis dry proves to be a complete waste of time as we immediately enter a forest with underfoot conditions that could only be traversed comfortably in fisherman’s waders.

After an hour trekking through the dense forest we break free of its confined enclosure and welcome our first view of the cloud covered summit above us. Hopeful that the summit will clear as forecast we press on up to the saddle which links Ben Lui with Bein a’Chleibh. From here we turn left and climb north east towards the summit. This part really does require the leg muscles and lungs to work in harmony as the ascent becomes increasingly vertical. As we reach the final plateau it becomes clear that there are in fact two summits to this mountain. There is a cairn marking the northwest summit, with the (true and the one most seen on film) southeast summit a short distance further across a dip.

Sadly the weather forecaster’s predictions turn out to be inaccurate as the clouds still remain at the summit and offer us only a brief glimpse of the beauty that spreads below us through intermittent breaks in the low cloud base. We decide to hunker down for 30 minutes in the hope that the cloud will disperse but depressingly the cloud cover becomes increasingly thicker and we decide to trek back down the mountain knowing the variances of the Scottish weather that the cloud will be clear and the sky deep blue by the time we reach ground level.

Coming back down our feet begin to dry off in time for us to re-enter the forest and get them reacquainted with the boggy conditions yet again and yes when we reach the car and look back at our conquered mountain we feel its inner smile as its tops are completely cloud free.

We may have straddled its peaks but its honour remains intact.