The Long Walk to Freedom... (from being a fat bas...)

To quote the great Winston Churchill, "this is not the end. This is not even the beginning of the end. It is, perhaps, the end of the beginning". That's kind of how I feel with the completion of tonight's walk, which took us from picturesque North Queensferry, through the industrial drudgery of Inverkeithing, before we ended our trip back at Ian's house in Dalgety Bay.

So, stats fans, what does the tale of the tape tell us tonight.  Well:

Distance: 5.71 miles
Time: 1hr 49min 15sec
Blisters: None! Thanks mainly to Ian providing emergency sockage, and the liberal application of Compeed* plasters to my feet.
Average Speed: 3.1mph

The eagle eyes amongst you will have noted that average speed is a new stat I've thrown in. Yep, it is, because tonight was the first time my average finished above 3mph, so it is, for me anyway, a bit of a breakthrough. Those amongst you who are more experienced in excursions of a perambulatory nature may scoff at my mere 3mph, but for me it's an achievement. The first of our walks was a fairly similar distance, but of much longer duration. It was absolute hell. So was tonight, but for a different reason. I'm pushing myself a bit harder, I only had to stop 2 or 3 times tonight, so if only my back didn't scream in agony for the first 4 miles or so, I'd be set!

So, tonight's starting point was our ending point last week, the historic and pretty village of North Queensferry, in the shadow of the two bridges. The Queen in question, was Queen (and later, Saint) Margaret of Scotland, wife of Malcolm III. Cars having not been invented in the 11th century (and there not being a bridge anyway!) St Margaret took to using a ferry for carriage from the capital (in those days, Dunfermline) to Edinburgh, which became known as the Queen's Ferry.

St Margaret, born in Hungary of all places, was the sister of a little known English king, Edgar Aetheling, whose family fled to Scotland following the Norman Conquest of 1066, which ended an away win for the Normans. She was, by all accounts, a truly pious person, befitting not only her status as Queen, but as the mother of three more Scottish Kings, known for her acts of charity, she ensured, for example, that any orphans or poor of the land who were around were fed before she would eat, and she would personally wash the feet of the poor. She was regarded as the epitome of a fair and just monarch, and was widely revered.  She died on November 16th, 1093, two days after being told of the death of her husband, Malcom III and her eldest son Edward in battle. In 1250 she was canonised by Pope Innocent IV in recognition of her piety, charity and all round awesomeness.  Following her canonisation, her remains were moved to Dunfermline Abbey, where I believe they remain today.

Inverkeithing Harbour

Inverkeithing may not have the history or charm of North Queensferry, but there are some interesting facts to be had about the place.  For example, the harbour you can see pictured off to the right, was the final destination for a number of famous ships, who sailed up the Forth to Inverkeithing to die. HMS Dreadnought, the iconic battleship, whose construction gave rise to an entirely new class of big-gun warships, and sparked probably the biggest naval arms race in history, was broken up at Inverkeithing, as was RMS Mauritania, sister ship of the Lusitania, whose sinking by a German U-Boat in WWI was one of the catalysts which precipitated the entry of the USA into the war.  Whilst we are talking about ships which had RMS as a prefix (which stands for, if you are interested, Royal Mail Ship - the ship could only carry that prefix if it was under contract by the Royal Mail for long distance maritime transport of mail), RMS Olympic also saw her demise in the town.  You may not have heard of RMS Olympic, but I can pretty much guarantee you will have heard of her sister ship, RMS Titanic. I wonder what happened to that one...

Dalgety Bay - one of the
many posh bits!

After passing through Inverkeithing, we re-joined the coast on our way to our destination for this leg of the trip, Dalgety Bay.  Dalgety Bay started life as plain old Dalgety, until the local aristocracy, the Earls of Moray decided they didn't fancy having a village full of peasants on their estate, and ordered it removed.  Then, eventually, the war came, and one of the Earls donated a tract of land for the construction of an airfield.  Eventually, after various wars, it was decided that the Donibristle airfield (named after Donibristle House, the seat of the Earls of Moray) wasn't needed any more, so the land around it was slowly transformed, seeding the start of modern Dalgety Bay.  If you know where to look, you can still see a lot of buildings which were part of the last airfield complex.  Indeed, the first job I had after school, for Marconi Command and Control Systems, was on land which once formed part of the airfield, and some of the outbuildings Marconi used for storage were actual airfield buildings.  It was said that the Donibristle factory where I worked, was haunted by the ghost of an airman, killed as his damaged plane came in to land, crashing just before touchdown.  Dalgety Bay's military past has left another, less welcome legacy - the first place in the United Kingdom to be designated as radioactively contaminated. Apparently, back in 'the day' some bright spark through it would be a good idea to bury a shedload (technical term) of dials, which contained radium.  I await the reports of two headed dogs, and glow in the dark cats.

In all, it was a challenging, but enjoyable sojourn. It also highlighted that Scotland is possibly the only place on the globe where you can find yourself needing sunscreen, a raincoat and some winter apparel more or less at the same time. As we turned toward the coast from North Queensferry, in bright sunshine, all was good with the world.  Literally no more than 5 minutes later, we had hail.  Then a bit of rain, and a cold wind, before finishing in glorious sunshine once again.

Anyway, so ends the first sector of our traverse of the Fife Coastal Path. Next up is central Fife, which gives us some pretty parts to look forward to - Aberdour and Burntisland, for example, before we eventually hit Kirkcaldy.  This, to paraphrase someone, I forget who, is where shizzle gets real...

*other blister plaster things are available. Apparently!