Day 45 Cupar to Dundee
The weather forecast for today encouraged us to get a move on. So we decided on an earlyish breakfast. I may have mentioned the delicious eggs royale in previous posts. This morning’s eggs royale were eggs rubber meaning that I didn’t go to work on an egg today.
Cupar is a pretty town and has a fruiterer so the disappointment of no egg was soon forgotten after the purchase of an apple.
One of the delights of today has been the villages through which we strolled. Most of these villages have, for we strangers, unusual names. How does on pronounce Foodieash?
On the occasions when we have had to use minor roads they have been largely traffic free. This freedom from traffic fear has been the case for most of this stroll and does make the day so much more fun.
When I used to work near Duns, many, many years ago, we used to go to the disused airfield and zoom about in an ancient Ford Capri. I was told that Jim Clark, the famous racer, was from Duns. I learned today, by passing his statue, that he really came from Kilmany. You learn something new every day by strolling.
Keeping off the roads we followed a track through a field. We have been much better of late in noticing when there are junctions on our tracks and checking that the one we have chosen is the correct one. Remembering that the weather might turn nasty we were trotting along at quite a pace and missed the turn so found ourselves under a wind turbine. Fiddle dee dee we said.
Approaching midday we became thirsty and spotted the excellent Gauldry Arms. The Gauldry Arms is a small but vibrant hostelry. We learned that Gauldry or The Gauldry was a gallows village and was called Gallows. I had no idea such villages existed..
Further along the coast we came to the village of Wormit. Some wag had managed to modify the village name to vomit on the bus stop sign. The railway bridge is very prominent and can be seen from quite a distance with the stumps of the old bridge columns alongside like rotten teeth as a reminder of past failure. I was reminded by these stumps of that piece of epic poetry by McGonagell The Tay Bridge Disaster Beautiful Railway Bridge of the Silv’ry Tay! Alas! I am very sorry to say That ninety lives have been taken away if you click the link you can enjoy the poem in all its magnificence.
So, from the rail bridge to the distant road bridge. Like the Forth Bridge it opened in the 1960s putting the ferry out of business. I am told that people crammed onto the last ferry journey, happily paying the fee of 5/6, for those under the age of 50 years this was a significant sum of money,
The meteorological office promised us rain and wind and other stuff after lunch so we decided to wait until we got to the bridge before making the decision to cross. On arrival at the staircsae to heaven the skies were clear, apart from a slight drizzle, so the crossing wasa on.
The stroller ascends to a central walkway by means of a staircase. Once on the bridge the length of it creates an optical illusion that it goes on and on for ever. Not only does it seem that it goes on and on for ever but that one has walked along it for ever and ever.
I think that suspension bridges are more fun than beam bridges as suspension bridges move with the wind and passing traffic. Beam bridges, in contrast, feel more like causeways than bridges nevertheless the length of the thing makes it a terrific stroll.
The day after tomorrow? We head towards Arbroath, perhaps.