The Binn - New perspective

I feel very lucky living in Edinburgh’s seaside suburb, Portobello. At the bottom of my lane, just 30 metres from the house, is the beach and beyond the sand is the expanse of the Firth of Forth. I watch the sea a lot and I love how it’s never the same on two days. It can be glassy on a day with no swell and a gentle westerly but with a strong east wind, it can be wild and rough with big waves crashing to shore. When there’s a surf, I can hear the sea from the house and the waves seem to fill the whole area with sound. But when it’s quiet, I can hear the oystercatchers piping from the shoreline, or geese or swans flying overhead. They seem to use the coastline as a handrail for navigation. Living beside the sea also enables long beach walks straight from my front door and the opportunity to launch the kayak on calmer days. Apart from all of this, one of the best things about living at the beach is the expanse of the view, even though it’s backed by the city. I can see along the East Lothian coastline where the land first rises at Falside Castle and undulates eastwards, culminating in the dome-shaped hill of North Berwick Law at the furthest point of my horizon. In the middle of the Firth is the rocky outcrop of Inchkeith Island and across the water is the coastline of Fife and the East Neuk. The view of Fife is dominated by the twin conical peaks of the Lomond Hills but latterly my eye has been drawn to a lower hill in front of the Lomonds that rises above the town of Burntisland. When I wander down to the beach in the early morning and sip my coffee wrapped in a blanket on the colder days, it is immediately opposite me. It’s called the Binn and for some reason that I can’t fathom, I had missed climbing up it all these years. So, on a breezy day that put us off bigger hills or bike rides, I set off up the Binn with my friend, Graham.

A walk up the Binn is not long so for a bigger stretch of the legs, we got off the train at Aberdour, the stop before Burntisland. It has a lovely little station that has won awards for its floral displays and they still looked beautiful on that late summer morning. 

We used the Fife Coastal Path to walk from Aberdour to Burntisland. It’s a nice section that hugs the shoreline between the sea and the railway line but it also dips into shady, green woods along the way. That day, in strong sunshine, even the normally grey waters of the Firth of Forth were blues and greens in the shallows. Eventually our path flirted with the outskirts of Burntisland and here we began the climb up through the woods above town.

The Binn is only 193m high so it wasn’t long before we were breaking free of the woods and striding across open ground to the top. What was really surprising was that the Binn was not a singular top but a range of small hills and high ground, dotted with woods and stands of gorse. I wouldn’t have guessed there was so much up here from my straight-on view from Portobello. There were farmed fields as well that stretched almost to the edge of the sudden drop-off on the hill’s south side. Between the fields and the edge was a narrow footpath that undulated pleasingly along the ridge. The wheat fields were a striking gold in contrast to the blues of the sky and sea, and the black of the rain clouds that were following behind us and quickened our step. 

As we wandered along the ridge, the landscape of the Forth was set out below us. To the west, where the waters narrowed, we could see the three Forth bridges. The new Queensferry Crossing catches the light beautifully as the sun glints off its sweeping, elegant lines. It’s a stunning backdrop for the iconic Rail Bridge.  We could see along the full coastline of East Lothian, its undulating land and its terminus at North Berwick Law where the land turned from our view. The conical outline of the Law was a perfect match for the peaks of East and West Lomond behind us. Across the Forth was the unmistakable outline of Edinburgh. The knobbly upthrust of Arthur’s Seat and the sloping plane of Salisbury Crags added a touch of drama to the cityscape. 

And of course, standing in a place that I normally see from the opposite shore, I looked across the water to Portobello. I was seeing my home in the landscape that it inhabits from a whole new perspective.

Fact File

Start: Aberdour train station

Finish: Burntisland train station

Public transport: Regular trains from Edinburgh on the Fife line stop at both stations.

My route: Exited Aberdour station on the side of the ticket office. A cycle/pedestrian path is signed to the left, along the left edge of the car park. Followed this past Aberdour Castle. Where it meets a road, crossed the road and immediately opposite a path begins signed for Silver Sands. Followed this towards the beach where it picks up the Fife Coastal Path and followed that towards Burntisland. The path approaches Burntisland at new houses on the left and for the second time it goes under the railway line. Didn’t go under the railway line but left the Coastal Path at this point, following blue cycle path sign to the left. Straight on at a mini roundabout then right at the next bigger roundabout. Crossed the road and walked up Grange Road. At the top of the hill went straight on, ignoring the “private road” sign as there is through access for walkers. At the very top there is an exit for walkers out onto the Cowdenbeath Road. Immediately opposite the footpath for the Binn is signed up into the woods. Followed the path up through the woods, across an open meadow, through a gate into an open field and just ahead there is another green walking sign pointing to the Binn. This took us to the top. We followed the ridge eastwards then descended at the far end back into woods. At the four-way crossroads in the path where there are large boulders, we turned right, following a path back down through the woods to the back end of Burntisland at the golf club. Followed our noses down to the main street where it’s worth stopping to look at the lovely old Port Buildings. Walked to the far west end of the main street and turned left for the station.

Fife - Smell the sea and feel the sky

Running for 117 miles along the coast of Fife like a long piece of squiggly string laid along the edge of the land is the Fife Coastal Path. It runs through an incredible variety of landscapes and since walking stretches of it a few years back, I’d forgotten what an absolute delight it is. So when my old friend Bart was visiting, I decided to head there for the weekend to show him something a bit different to his usual mountainous home in the Pyrenees. Over two days, we walked the section of the path between Leuchars and Leven.

The first few miles were at odds with the rest of the trip as we were accompanied by rumbling traffic beside a busy main road. It was a relief when the route then joined a section of disused railway line to continue into the genteel atmosphere of St Andrews. Pringle-jumpered golfers practised their swing and throngs of tourists milled around the quaint streets of the ancient town centre. The old harbour provided us with a haven, its stone walls reaching out into a still, blue sea like a pincer claw.

The outline of Fife is often likened to a Scottie dog’s head and as we left St Andrews we were starting the long trek along the coast towards the dog’s nose at Fife Ness. The coastline here was an interesting juxtaposition. For a few miles we were walking along rugged beaches where wild geese dropped out of big skies to land on quiet bays and bruise-coloured clouds sent down the rain in drenching sheets. Then the next few miles we found ourselves crossing luxury golf courses. Two soggy, damp hikers with sheep poo on their shoes mixing with smartly dressed, wealthy golfers. 

There was great variety as well. At one point the trail headed inland and cut a route across farms and fields where we picked blackberries for an evening dessert. Then we returned to the coast through the lush, dripping gorge of a river, overhung with trees and green ferns. The beaches themselves switched between sweeping crescents of pale or russet sand that were a joy to walk on to rough beaches of rocks and boulders that tired us out.

By the time we reached the Scottie dog’s nose and turned the corner, it was early evening. A grassy shelf on a quiet bay provided the night’s wild camp spot. To the east there was sea as far as the eye could see. But to the south the water was broken by the squat outline of the Island of May. With sheer cliffs at one end like a huge baleen plate and a tapering tail at the other, the island made me think of a giant whale drifting on the surface of the sea.

Next morning, under a hot, late summer sun, we continued our trek west down our Scottie dog's chin. Our view was no longer endless sea now but the distant coastline of East Lothian on the other side of the Firth of Forth. The unmistakable hump of North Berwick Law was our sundial, its ever-changing angle marking the passage of time and distance. The morning sun picked out the guano-covered lump of the Bass Rock rising sheer from the sea and there were sea monsters as well in the bizarre shaped rock formations along our route. 

As we trekked further west, the character of the walk changed again as the Coastal Path linked together the charming old fishing villages of the East Neuk. The route stuck faithfully to the shore here so that we found ourselves walking through charming, old harbours and along quaint promenades where the fisher cottages were so close to the sea that you could cast a line from your bed. The old villages here were lovely with stone buildings stacked steeply above the harbours and narrow cobbled lanes winding between them. Some of the old harbours were obviously devoted to leisure craft these days but those at Pittenweem and Anstruther still had working boats bringing in the fish.

As we trekked the final few miles along the sweeping sandy beach of Largo Bay, the path meandered through sweet smelling dunes. On our horizon, the industrial outline of Leven clamoured up into the big skies that we’d enjoyed for the last two days. It signalled the end of our walk as offshore oilrigs drifted on the surface of the sea instead of whale-like islands.

Fact File

More photos on Flickr - click HERE.

Start: Leuchars

Finish: Leven

Public transport: Train from Edinburgh to Leuchars. Bus from Leven to Kirkcaldy then train back to Edinburgh.

Our route: On exiting the train station turned right along Station Road and then left along Toll Road - at the bottom the Fife Coastal Path is joined. The route is very well signed so I won't set it out here but maps and info can be found on the Fife Coastal Path website. Note that a couple of sections between St Andrews and Fife Ness need to be passed when the tide is not high. On entering Leven we left the promenade and followed signs for the bus station, a couple of minutes walk away. In Kirkcaldy got off the bus at the stop before the bus station as that's closer to the train station.