The day began with breakfast at the hotel: The best bowl of porridge that I have ever tasted, made by the waiter himself, an older, Scottish gentlemen. At first, he was quite taken aback by my request. He even asked if I planned to have the full traditional Scottish breakfast (eggs, bacon, link sausage and baked beans) after the porridge. I assured him that the porridge in itself would be plenty. He asked if I wanted it sweet or savory. "By all means, sweet!", I told him. Marty and his co-worker, who had joined us, followed my lead and ordered the same.
In short time, this delightful man returned with our choice. Just one taste solved the mystery, in my mind, as to why Goldilocks felt the need to taste 3 bowls of the stuff. (Was Goldi Scottish?)
When I complimented the man on the taste, he blushed, and went on to describe just how he had personally made it. He had taken the order to the Chef, but the chef is Indian and he scoffed at our request. So, the waiter, being from Aberdeen, made the porridge just as his mother would have. Or so he says. He also mentioned that he makes several varieties of porridge, so Marty and I are looking forward to tasting some more of his handiwork.
Little did I know that I would need that filling breakfast to sustain me as I headed out for the the Royal Burgh of Dysart. It was quite a hike, but well worth the miles. I walked along the coastal trail, enjoying the beautiful views of the firth and admiring the many houses of old.
The weather was tolerable: A bit windy, overcast, and an occasional sprinkle. Typical Scottish weather.
My foot travels took me through the town of Kirkcaldy to the Coastal Path which, as its name implies, winds along the coast of the Firth of Forth. Sea Gulls scream as one admires the beauty of the sea. The locals take advantage of this path and I spotted many a dog out for a walk, off leash, along the trail.
The ruins to Ravenscraig Castle are along the trail, standing since the year 1460. This is one of the first castles built to withstand cannon fire. Defensive walls still stand along the coast, with the water lapping up against the sides during high tide. I didn't venture into the ruins of the castle, but continued on towards my intended destination of Dysart.
I soon realized that I would need to walk through a rather dark tunnel in order to continue on the path. I had seen several people with dogs at this point, and it was apparent that they had come through this same tunnel, but I was a bit nervous, at first, about entering. But, going back would require a huge hike, and I had been walking for well over an hour at this point, so I peered through, saw light, gulped hard, and ventured inside.
When I came out of the other side, I found myself in the quaint little fishing town of Dysart. Cobblestone streets leading along a high wall on one side with a harbor dating back to the 17th century along the firth. A variety of sailboats were scattered in the water and walls of the harbor.
I headed to the Harbormaster's house where I rested my feet while I enjoyed a delightful Scottish vegetable barley soup with a piece of dark bread. Just what I needed to rekindle my energy. Oh, and a cup of tea with a lovely Scottish shortbread cookie that melted in my mouth. Yumm!
Re-energized, I went out to explore the remainder of the town. St. Serf's Tower looms over the town. It stands 80 ft. high and was both a steeple for the church and a defensive tower. I had read that the top offered an outstanding view, but the place seemed to be closed up and I wasn't willing to investigate any further since I was by myself.
I continued up the road and through the red-pantiled houses at Pan Ha', some of which date back to the 16th century, making quite a picturesque seen.
My ventures then took me up the hill towards the center of the town when I realized that the tourist map icons did not line up with the streets as marked. But, I was able to spot the old Tolbooth built in 1576, the Old Scottish Dysart Kirk and the WWI Memorial outside.
A little more walking and I found the Carmelite Monastery where several sisters stood outside talking and I inquired about a Catholic Church in the area. They were eager to assist me, and even mentioned that there was a 9:00 Mass at the Chapel in the Monastery on Sunday, if we were interested in attending that.
I then began my treck back to the hotel. The weather had gotten colder and misty and my feet were getting pretty tired at this point. I couldn't help but be in awe at the beauty of the firth as I walked along one of the stone walls that is built along the top of the hill. Truly magnificent, and well worth the effort that I made to seek this place out.
The streets in these towns can often be likened to a maze. I was lucky to have picked up some maps at the tourist info center or I certainly would still be attempting to find my way back. At this point, I was eager to take the shortest route, and I was checking my map to see when to make the next turn. A local woman spotted me and asked if I was lost. I merely told her what street I was looking for, and she told me that I was a long way off (which I had already figured out), but she was out for a walk and would be happy to step along with me for awhile. Which she did, and we had a delightful conversation along the way, with her showing me some of the different types of housing. She was curious as to why I would walk so far and not just take a bus.
Walking not only gives you time to admire the beauty of a scene. It also helps to work off the calories in that exceptionally delicious shortbread cookie that I had treated myself to after lunch. And, perhaps, a few more? Let's hope so!
In short time, this delightful man returned with our choice. Just one taste solved the mystery, in my mind, as to why Goldilocks felt the need to taste 3 bowls of the stuff. (Was Goldi Scottish?)
When I complimented the man on the taste, he blushed, and went on to describe just how he had personally made it. He had taken the order to the Chef, but the chef is Indian and he scoffed at our request. So, the waiter, being from Aberdeen, made the porridge just as his mother would have. Or so he says. He also mentioned that he makes several varieties of porridge, so Marty and I are looking forward to tasting some more of his handiwork.
Little did I know that I would need that filling breakfast to sustain me as I headed out for the the Royal Burgh of Dysart. It was quite a hike, but well worth the miles. I walked along the coastal trail, enjoying the beautiful views of the firth and admiring the many houses of old.
The weather was tolerable: A bit windy, overcast, and an occasional sprinkle. Typical Scottish weather.
My foot travels took me through the town of Kirkcaldy to the Coastal Path which, as its name implies, winds along the coast of the Firth of Forth. Sea Gulls scream as one admires the beauty of the sea. The locals take advantage of this path and I spotted many a dog out for a walk, off leash, along the trail.
The ruins to Ravenscraig Castle are along the trail, standing since the year 1460. This is one of the first castles built to withstand cannon fire. Defensive walls still stand along the coast, with the water lapping up against the sides during high tide. I didn't venture into the ruins of the castle, but continued on towards my intended destination of Dysart.
I soon realized that I would need to walk through a rather dark tunnel in order to continue on the path. I had seen several people with dogs at this point, and it was apparent that they had come through this same tunnel, but I was a bit nervous, at first, about entering. But, going back would require a huge hike, and I had been walking for well over an hour at this point, so I peered through, saw light, gulped hard, and ventured inside.
When I came out of the other side, I found myself in the quaint little fishing town of Dysart. Cobblestone streets leading along a high wall on one side with a harbor dating back to the 17th century along the firth. A variety of sailboats were scattered in the water and walls of the harbor.
I headed to the Harbormaster's house where I rested my feet while I enjoyed a delightful Scottish vegetable barley soup with a piece of dark bread. Just what I needed to rekindle my energy. Oh, and a cup of tea with a lovely Scottish shortbread cookie that melted in my mouth. Yumm!
Re-energized, I went out to explore the remainder of the town. St. Serf's Tower looms over the town. It stands 80 ft. high and was both a steeple for the church and a defensive tower. I had read that the top offered an outstanding view, but the place seemed to be closed up and I wasn't willing to investigate any further since I was by myself.
I continued up the road and through the red-pantiled houses at Pan Ha', some of which date back to the 16th century, making quite a picturesque seen.
My ventures then took me up the hill towards the center of the town when I realized that the tourist map icons did not line up with the streets as marked. But, I was able to spot the old Tolbooth built in 1576, the Old Scottish Dysart Kirk and the WWI Memorial outside.
A little more walking and I found the Carmelite Monastery where several sisters stood outside talking and I inquired about a Catholic Church in the area. They were eager to assist me, and even mentioned that there was a 9:00 Mass at the Chapel in the Monastery on Sunday, if we were interested in attending that.
I then began my treck back to the hotel. The weather had gotten colder and misty and my feet were getting pretty tired at this point. I couldn't help but be in awe at the beauty of the firth as I walked along one of the stone walls that is built along the top of the hill. Truly magnificent, and well worth the effort that I made to seek this place out.
The streets in these towns can often be likened to a maze. I was lucky to have picked up some maps at the tourist info center or I certainly would still be attempting to find my way back. At this point, I was eager to take the shortest route, and I was checking my map to see when to make the next turn. A local woman spotted me and asked if I was lost. I merely told her what street I was looking for, and she told me that I was a long way off (which I had already figured out), but she was out for a walk and would be happy to step along with me for awhile. Which she did, and we had a delightful conversation along the way, with her showing me some of the different types of housing. She was curious as to why I would walk so far and not just take a bus.
Walking not only gives you time to admire the beauty of a scene. It also helps to work off the calories in that exceptionally delicious shortbread cookie that I had treated myself to after lunch. And, perhaps, a few more? Let's hope so!
What a wonderful day you had. When I travel, I love best meeting people along the way. Wonderful story about the waiter and the porridge. And don't short shrift busses when your feet have had it. You can also see the scenery pretty well from them. I always prefer busses to metros when I travel in foreign places. The above ground vantage they give you are bested only by being on foot (which, for me, give out after 8 or so hours of walking). Happy travels!
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