Eastfield Farm, Saline, Kingdom of Fife

The distance between our old and new camp was less than 40 kilomtres so we were in no hurry to hitch up and move on yesterday morning. Bad weather threatened so we completed the outside fiddly tasks earlier than required then hung about, finally heading off close to 11am, back on to the A720, the Edinburgh Bypass (effectively the Ring Road) heading westward, then north across the Forth Road Bridge. Even as we turned onto the motorway, serious rain set in and visibility was appalling. All motorists slowed to a sedate and safe pace, and so we left Mid Lothian, crossing the Firth of Forth into the Kingdom of Fife.

 

The Bridges of Forth are a tourist attraction all on their own, and were on my list of to-dos for the coming days, however we were curious even as we crossed the middle of the three, the Forth Road Bridge, a suspension bridge which compliments the older bridge downstream. This road bridge was built between 1958 and 1964, and has served the traffic flow demands until recent times. The most easterly is Forth Rail Bridge, cantilevered and built between 1883 and 1890 by Sir John Fowler and Benjamin Baker, ranking among the supreme achievements of Victorian engineering. 

Upstream of that which we crossed is the work in progress, the Queensferry Crossing, the world’s longest cable-stayed bridge and due to open this year. Even through the veil of rain, we could see construction vehicles and machines busily working toward that deadline.

We travelled on north of Dunfermline then turned westwards onto a minor road, travelling through lovely rural country with less traffic but the weather no better than the Firth crossing. At Saline we followed the directions in the book, turning on to a narrow road then two miles north, finding our way into this delightful little Certified Location. Unlike our previous camping spot, there are no facilities apart from rubbish and effluent disposal, yet we are paying £2 more daily; there is little system to the charges these private people set to allow strangers, albeit Club members, set up camp on their “back lawn”.

The rains eased a little, enough to cosy up under my hostess’s umbrella and discuss connections with New Zealand. It remained so while we unpacked and plugged all the bits and bobs into the necessary orifices. But no sooner did we remove our wet coats, when the rain started to fall in earnest and we spent the afternoon inside watching the second to last day of the Tour de France. Our hostess interrupted the proceedings at one point when she arrived clad in dark and soggy rainwear bearing a bunch of beautiful sweet pea, which I promptly placed in an empty jar. How delightful!

This morning the day dawned better than forecasted. We set off before 8.30 am with a list of to-dos, the first the Forth Bridges, keen to learn more than our travel guide had already explained. Arriving within view of the Firth, it was evident that visibility was even worse than yesterday; the fog was as thick as pea soup; I was greatly disappointed. I had been looking forward to stopping off at the view point for the bridges, all three in their various state of dress or undress, and of course adding their portraits to the gallery of five thousand other photos I have. 

We reset the Tomtom for our next destination, crossing south over the Firth and heading west to Linlithgow, an absolutely delightful town or at least from our own view points. It was too early for the Palace’s opening time so we found our way to the canal basin.  Here is the Canal Centre housed in former stables and from here pleasure boat cruises run on the Union Canal to the Avon Aquaduct, Scotland’s longest and highest. The thirty one mile long Union Canal links Edinburgh and Falkirk, and connects to Glasgow via the Forth & Clyde Canal, and was opened in 1822 to bring minerals, especially coal, to the capital. Just twenty years later the rail had reduced the importance of the canal, however the canal was not closed to commercial traffic until 1933 and officially closed in 1965.

With more recent revival in canals right across the country, the massive efforts of enthusiasts and the odd monetary grant, the canal was re-opened in 2001 and reconnected to the Forth & Clyde Canal in 2002 by the Falkirk Wheel which we were to visit later in the day.

We spent close on an hour walking along the towpath, delighting in the wildflowers. Chris caught sight of a water vole which sadly I missed; I was too busy stuffing myself full of delicious wild raspberries. 

Back at the Basin we checked out an ancient dovecote across the road in the Learmouth Gardens. This 16^th century circular “beehive” dovecote has thick sandstone rubble walls and contains three hundred and seventy holes, and is still home to a noisy flock of pigeons.

We had glimpsed Linlithgow Palace from the towpath and read snippets of its fame as we had done the rounds of royal history, so approached our visit with great expectations. Our guide book explained that this was a splendid 15^th century ruin romantically set on the edge of the Linlithgow Loch, birth place of Mary Queen of Scots and others before and after. Although it was maintained after Union, the Palace was little used and was burned out in 1746 during the Jacobite Rising. Efforts to conserve the ruins have been on-going since the early 19^th century and today is managed and maintained by Historic Scotland.

The Palace or castle, even in its ruined state, is a massive building, a labyrinth of spiral staircases and endless nooks and crannies, some of which we were guided to by the most junior guides we have ever encountered. It seems that this summer, the local youth have been given the opportunity to hone their skills as historical tourist guides. Had the interpretive panels been more informative, this would not have been a problem, and had the dark and damp empty chambers, uncleaned for some time and inhabited by the pigeons for whom there was no room in the dovecote, the visit would have been most rewarding. We should have purchased the guide book offered at the entry kiosk and then all those gaps would have satisfactorily plugged and we would not have come away feeling something had been missing.

We drove down to the Loch to lunch, the rain now well set in yet again, a veil of weeping willow partially obscuring the surprisingly large expanse of water. Before we left I popped out into the rain in an attempt to photograph the castle beyond the loch, something I had hoped to do from the other side, however the rain had put paid to any plans to walk around the loch.

Keen to see one of the canal’s viaducts, the Avon Aquaduct, we followed this road and that, as one chases rainbows, without success, however we were close enough by now to Falkirk, so instead headed to The Wheel.

I mentioned this earlier as being the link between the two canals. During the previous life of the Union Canal, there had been a series of eleven locks to lift the barges and other craft the thirty five  metres, taking most of the day through the flight. The regeneration of the canals required new ideas, and thus the Falkirk Wheel was created, a rotating boat lift which raises boats by twenty four metres and a pair of locks to lift them the last eleven metres, costing £84.5 million.

We parked outside the precinct, not willing to pay for parking for the short time we expected to stay (the set fee covers the visitor for a full day) and walked in to the entertainment space of the canal basin above which the wheel stands like a great Transformer (of the 1980s toy variety). There was little information available; the wares on sale were more about food and drink, souvenirs and tickets for the boat ride where one could ride the wheel for themselves. As we watched a couple of boatloads of tourists descend and later ascend, we agreed watching from terra firma was more enjoyable that being on the wheel itself. We walked up to the top of the lift and along the canal, pausing again to watch the progress of the boats. There we chatted at length with a local who was riding a large scooter pulled by his two huskies. He asked if we had seen the “kelpies”; we had not, or did he mean the two steel horse heads down by the car park. It turns out that these are just small copies of the great structures on the Forth & Clyde Canal near Grangemouth.

After spending more time following the Union Canal into the tunnel under the railway and old Roman Wall which is about 190 metres long and not a very pleasant place to be when sharing the space with a diesel belching boat, we returned to the car and set off to discover the “kelpies”.

We found ourselves in a lovely park alongside the canal, with paths reaching in all directions about a series of lakes; it was a popular place today with both locals and tourists. And sure enough, there were the monster kelpies, with no likeness to sheep dogs which one might otherwise imagine. It seems that “kelpie” or “water kelpie”, is a Scots name given to a shape-shifting water spirit inhabiting the lochs and pools of Scotland. It is usually described as appearing as a horse, but is able to adopt human form. Presumably the Loch Ness monster could also be described as such?

The thirty metre high sculptures opened to the public in 2004, costing £5 million to complete and play a central role in the £43 million, 350 hectare Helix land at the eastern entrance to the Forth & Clyde canal. They are fashioned from stainless steel with cladding of the same and are quite marvellous if you can see past the exorbitant cost and fantastical theme.
 
Despite the intermittent rain and the disappointments, we had had a full day and it was time to head home, which we did via the Clackmannan Bridge approaching Saline from the west along another series of minor roads.