Ales and Windswept Ambles along the Fife Path near Edinburgh

Walking, ideally, is a state in which the mind, the body, and the world are aligned, as though they were three characters finally in conversation together, three notes suddenly making a chord. ~Rebecca Solnit, Wanderlust

Scotland is a walker’s paradise of wild and dramatic landscapes. Long-distance trails hug the banks of deep lochs and rugged coastal shoreline. They traverse glens and windswept plains, and pass in the shadow of craggy peaks. You could lose yourself for weeks on end along Scotland’s walking paths and hiking trails, all the while striking that three-note chord “in which the mind, the body, and the world are aligned.”

One aspect of walking that commentators from Jean-Jacques Rousseau to Rebecca Solnit only ever allude to is that walking is also an ideal way to seek out liquid sustenance of the adult variety. It’s no coincidence that if you scratch the history of ancient trade routes, droving paths, and pilgrimage routes, you’ll notice that the pubs and inns that line these trails are a breakfast, lunch, and dinner apart.

If you’ve found yourself in Scotland with a yen for walking but don’t have the time to commit to several days on the road, fear not. For those who like to mix ambling with the hunt for pints or drams, shorter day hikes offer the possibility of meandering through fishing villages where fish n chips and an ale are never far.

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Fish n Chips and Pints along the Fife Coastal Path

You don’t have to venture very far from the big city to immerse yourself in Scotland’s natural scenery by turns beautiful and sublime. The Fife Coastal Path, an undulating trail that passes evocative castle ruins along the shoreline from Kincardine to Newburgh on the Firth of Tay, is just a bus ride from Edinburgh on the other side of the Firth of Forth. Find the X60 to Anstruther or St. Andrews from the Edinburgh Bus Station, get off at any of the small towns along the way, and begin wandering eastwards. (You may need to transfer to Bus 95 at Leven, which is what I had to do.) Amble as far as you want, then get the bus back to Edinburgh.

By the Sea in Elie

On this particular day I chose a short 6-mile walk from Elie to Anstruther in the East Neuk region because exploring the embarrassing richness of Edinburgh’s pub scene the night before made for a relatively late start. These things happen. I began my afternoon amble in style with seafood chowder and a few pints at the Ship Inn, a recently refurbished but still cozy pub right by the sea. This creamy chowder with smoked haddock, mussels, and clams was one of the best I’ve ever had, and the perfect foil for beer.

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Fruity and cidery on the palate, the Tennent Bitter from Wellpark Brewery melds subtle green and golden apple with a whiff of boxwood hop aromas but was a bit of a wallflower. Not so Eden Mill’s The Clock, a red ale from a brewery and distillery in St. Andrews. This copper beer bursts forth with a cascade of aromas and rich flavours belied by its mere 3.8% ABV. Café au lait, mocha, and bitter chocolate set the stage for shortbread, caramelized brown sugar and marmalade on toast, plum, toffee, and a pleasant whiff of butterscotch. The elegant baking spice notes lingering in the aftertaste put me in the mind of Christmas cake. And at this low level of alcohol, The Clock won’t throw you off your hiking game. (One Tankard)

Castle Ruins Beyond Elie

The clock had struck one, so it was time to get a move on to beat the early sunset of mid-autumn. It was one of those windswept autumn days when the sun darts in and out from behind the clouds, shafts of light dancing on the waves of the cobalt sea. I’d imagine that this trail is lively with wanderers during the warmer months, but today I was the only soul, a speck in the vast landscape of rugged shoreline. The whole way the crunch of my footsteps in the gravel was muffled by the low rumbling of the pounding surf — the perfect kind of day for contemplation, for aligning mind, body, and world, as Solnit puts it.

Just beyond the Elie harbour you can make a short detour to the Lady Tower, part of a summer house built for Lady Anstruther in 1760, now deserted and crumbling. From there the narrow footpath sweeps up and down through fields along the coastline past the lonely ruins of the fourteenth-century Ardross Castle before, on a promontory in the distance, you catch your first glimpse of the dramatic Newark Castle ruins looming ever larger with every twist, turn, and dip in the trail. Once you’ve rounded the promontory, glance back at the ruins etched against the liquid silver of the mid-afternoon sky.

The Fishing Villages of St. Monans and Pittenweem

Not far beyond the Newark Castle ruins you’ll pass the uniquely stunning St. Monans Church on the edge of the fishing village of the same name. The trail meanders through town and along the harbour before passing the St. Monans Windmill. The windmill, together with the architecture of the village, is a fascinating visual echo of the maritime towns and villages of the Low Countries to the south.

Just a short ramble from St. Monans, Pittenweem is the main fishing port on the East Neuk coast. The name of the village means “place of the cave,” and it’s here that you’ll find St. Filian’s Cave, a refuge used as a chapel by a seventh-century missionary. Pittenweem is also an ideal place for a pint while you watch the fishing boats bobbing languidly in the harbour. The unassuming Larachmhor Tavern is a fisherman’s pub named after a local fishing boat and serves a lineup of mainstream but serviceable beers.

As I made my way along the harbour after my beer I couldn’t help but marvel at the similarities between these Scottish maritime villages and the ones in the Canadian Maritimes thousands of miles across the ocean. (It’s not for nothing that Nova Scotia bears the name it does.)

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Arriving in Anstruther

With twilight in the air I reached the edge of Anstruther and made a beeline for Wee Chippy, a fish n chips shack that came highly recommended by my B&B host in Edinburgh. You have a choice between breaded fish (more traditional, according to the chef) and battered. I opted for the battered, which was light, buttery, crispy, and reminiscent of tempura batter. And those crispy fries! Fries that actually tasted like fresh potatoes! No mean feat these days.

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All that was missing was a pint of ale to go along with it. Alas, the Wee Chippy doesn’t serve alcohol. Fortunately a pub is never far away in these fishing villages. The Bank Bar & Kitchen is a lively refurbished pub inside an old stone building that houses a hotel. Even if the place isn’t quite on par with some of the classics of Edinburgh, the Bank serves up real ale from handpumps along with a decent selection of whiskies, including local offerings from Eden Mill, the same folks who brew the tasty beer I had to start my day in Elie.

I found a spot at the bar and ordered a Claverhouse Red Ale from Strathaven Ales near Glasgow, and followed that up with a Santa’s Sledgehammer Winter Ale from Cairngorm Brewery in the Highlands. Both were just what the doctor ordered to keep the autumn evening chill at bay.

The Claverhouse Red is a fruity ale with a beguiling strawberry toffee aroma followed by dates, baking spice, and a hint of butterscotch. It’s equally pleasant on the palate: creamy and smooth with a slate-mineral crispness cutting through biscuit, shortbread, and mild roasty cocoa layered over the toffee and fruit ensemble we met in the aromas.

Despite its bone-crunching name, Santa’s Sledgehammer is a contemplative beer perfect for evenings in toasty pubs — a little darker and a little richer than the Claverhouse Red. There’s also more coffee, mocha, and fruity dark chocolate. For all the dark toast, bread crust, vanilla, oak notes, black cherry, and licorice, this silky beer finishes drier than the Claverhouse Red. What I found most intriguing was the whiff of smoke not unlike the barrel notes you’d get with a Cabernet Franc or Syrah. (Two Tankards)

Pleasantly warm and feeling perfectly aligned with the world around me, I paid my tab, headed to the bus stop, and arrived back in Edinburgh for the Halloween festivities at the Hanging Bat.

*What I recounted here is just a prelude to the longer walks you can do if you start early enough from Edinburgh, or if you stay the night at one of the inns along the Fife Coastal Trail. The fishing village of Crail with its seventeenth-century harbour is just 4 miles beyond Anstruther.

Postscript: Accommodations for the Weary Traveler

Simply put, Scotland’s inns and B&Bs are national treasures. You’ll find something that suits just about every budget and taste. Most offer excellent breakfasts that draw on regional specialties. And they’re unique reflections of period architecture and interior design. Best of all, the owners of these establishments are gracious hosts and founts of local information.

In Edinburgh I stayed at the Amaryllis Guesthouse when I arrived, and at the Townhouse when I returned from the Highlands. Both are just west of the bustling Tollcross junction. Catherine Bell of the Amaryllis offers spacious rooms in a quiet and unassuming Georgian rowhouse. The slightly more expensive Townhouse flips the relationship. The characterful rooms here are small. But the comfortable sitting room filled with books on music and architecture means you won’t have to confine yourself to your quarters. And the haddock and potato fish cake breakfast whipped up by host Susan Virtue and her husband is particularly good.

Sources

The Fife Coastal Path: https://fifecoastandcountrysidetrust.co.uk/

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Images by Franz D. Hofer

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