If you squinted a little, the silver-haired man had a Kirk Douglas look about him. We had a chat at the bar in the Auld Hoose in Kinghorn; he showed me a screenshot of a movie he had appeared in in 1998, with his quiff as perfectly coiffed then as it is now. “It was after that I met Jason Connery, who said to me, you look just like Kirk.”
This touch of A-list glamor seemed quite fitting. I was on the coast of Fife, which, with its pastel fishing harbours, rocky coasts, beautiful beaches, ancient fortifications and excellent food, is like a Scottish version of Italy’s Cinque Terre; a Bonnie Riviera. The place to work with the Hollywood jet set of yesteryear – even if this Kirk drinks a can of McEwan’s Export instead of a glass of Sciacchetrà.
Does it all sound a bit false? I admit that the weather in East Scotland may not feel very Mediterranean. On my first day, walking the Fife Coastal Path, I did indeed have sun, rain, sun, rain, sun, hail, sun and a robust north-easterly flush on my cheeks. But I also had blue days, a lot of cultural interest and several Italian fragments.
One of Scotland’s official Great Trails, the 116-mile Fife Coastal Path follows the region’s varied, largely low-lying coastline, from Kincardine to Newburgh, on the Tay. I started my edited version with highlights in North Queensferry, beneath the towering girders of the Forth Bridge.
Like the villages of the Cinque Terre, the first settlements along the Fife coast are linked by trains, which run across this striking 19th-century area. It is one of three towering bridges that converge at North Queensferry in a bravado of civil engineering. The old harbor meanders quietly underneath and has seen it all before. Travelers have been crossing here for thousands of years, at the narrowest point of the Forth estuary.
The path took me east, beneath the cliffs of Carlingnose Point Nature Reserve, around Dalgety Bay, past the waterfront ruins of St Bridget’s Kirk and on to Aberdour. Where the Cinque Terre has its Genoese towers, built in the 16th century to protect against attacks from the Turks, the coast of Fife is dotted with castles of nobles, in varying states of repair. Aberdour Castle, which dates from around 1200, is one of the oldest surviving in Scotland.
Partly ruined and partly not, with lovely walled terraced gardens, open to the public – but was awkwardly closed for lunch when I walked past. I took the hint and walked a short distance to Silver Sands, where the beach cafe had a terrace surrounded by potted palm trees. It felt like a suitably Mediterranean place to stop – although as it was late spring in Scotland I ate my delicious fish soup indoors.
My day’s walk ended in the town of Burntisland, bouncing along a main street full of independent businesses. I peered into One One Four, the windows full of interesting wines, whiskeys and gins. I inhaled the cheese counter in the Grain & Sustain scoop shop. And I coveted everything at Bel & Etta, a chic boutique where I came in to try the nettle heather hand cream but left wearing a kimono. I rounded out the afternoon with a scoop of stracciatella at Novelli’s ice cream shop and spent my evening in Kinghorn with Kirk.
Così buono so far, but no pastel-colored village in sight. On the plus side, the next day dawned bright blue. As I left, Kinghorn’s whitewashed harbor sparkled in the sun and beneath the red sandstone ruins of the 16th-century Seafield Tower, seals soaked up the rays.
I soon reached Kirkcaldy, which is too big to be Cinque Terre cute, but offers a dose of culture. A young Jack Vettriano – born in Fife but of Italian descent – studied the paintings of Kirkcaldy Museum & Art Gallery, and many of the self-taught artist’s most famous works are on the wide, windswept beaches around Lower Largo and Leven. where he grew up.
As I drove into the East Neuk – the eastern corner of Fife – the fishing port charm started coming thick and fast. The next day and a half, between here and Anstruther, I walked through Dysart, Lower Largo (birthplace of Alexander Selkirk, aka Robinson Crusoe), Elie, St Monans and Pittenweem, all interspersed with huge, cheerful, wild beaches, fascinating rocky beaches . foreshore and the odd golf course (this was Scotland, not Italy, after all).
Dysart was a pleasant surprise, accessible via a tunnel. In the 1890s the local baron built a wall around his estate to prevent people from wandering in from the coast, so a tunnel was cut through the rock to allow carts to move ballast between the harbor and the beach. And what a beautiful harbour, with a handful of old pressed sailor’s cottages and a lovely Georgian harbourmaster’s house, now home to a busy cafe – I got the last table – and a visitor center telling stories of the Fife coast.
Elie was a more expected delight. Set behind the original cliffs of Kincraig Point, this traditional fishing village has adorned many a postcard. If you catch the light well, an almost Ligurian glow radiates from the stones and brightly painted houses along the coast. And if I wasn’t looking for a new place every night, I’d probably choose to stay at Elie’s Ship Inn, which looks west over the golden bay, ideally situated for sunset.
But I was fooling around. Firstly via St Monans, where the jagged coast is formed by 300 million year old volcanoes and where a tidal pool has been carved out of the rocks. Then via beautiful Pittenweem, where I went to the chocolate shop for whiskey-filled truffles, to strengthen myself for the last kilometers.
In charming Anstruther – also a beautiful harbor – I happily plopped into the Spindrift Guest House, a grand former captain’s quarters where owners Jenni and Mark could not have welcomed me more warmly. My room, high in the eaves, overlooked the sea, although the lounge, with its well-stocked honesty bar, was an even better place to sit. Not that I sat too long, because I had a booking that I didn’t want to miss.
Italy is famous for its food, but the small cellar, hidden in a former smokehouse and cooperage in a back street of Anstruther, could give any trattoria a run for its money. Chef and owner Billy Boyter grew up overlooking the harbor in neighboring Cellardyke. “And most of the food comes from within a five-mile radius,” manager Michael Whytock explained as he guided me through the set menu. The dishes ranged from North Sea turbot with farmed sea asparagus to early Pittenweem strawberries, from a silky crispy donut to Balcaskie ox tongue, perhaps the tastiest thing I have ever eaten. Seven courses. One Michelin star. An ouch-y £130 per person – but oh mio dio!, so delicious.
If the region can deliver on this, in terms of top-class food and dreamy coastal scenes, perhaps the Cinque Terre will have to start calling itself Italy’s Fife Coast?
Essentials
Sarah Baxter was a guest of LNER (London King’s Cross to Edinburgh from £49.80 one way; lner.co.uk) and Macs Adventure (0141 530 5452; macsadventure.com), which runs a six-day Highlights of the Fife Coastal Tour from £655 pp, including B&B accommodation, maps and luggage transfers. The Ship Inn in Elie offers B&B doubles from £120pn (01333 330246; shipinn.scot). The Cellar serves lunch and dinner, Wednesday to Saturday (01333 310378; thecellaranstruther.co.uk).