Livingston Long Loop

The new town of Livingston is an outpost on the Stagecoach Megarider Plus zone and it was on a Sunday morning I left Dunfermline bus station. The journey took one hour and terminated at the entrance to the vast Almondvale Shopping Centre. After a quick breakfast at McDonald's, I set off to explore the 10-mile circular route I had pieced together online.

Some people may think the purpose-built post-war settlements are not the most exciting places to visit but they often contain excellent path networks. Furthermore, these places didn't emerge in the middle of nowhere and often adjoin older villages and other places of interest. I had previously followed the river as far as the Almond Valley Heritage Park which contains the Scottish Shale Oil Museum. This industry was a feature of Lothian landscapes for over a century until it ended in 1962. Only one plant ever existed in Fife. The Burntisland works closed as far back as 1896, although the village built to house workers and the connecting railway line can still easily be traced today. The modern museum is part of a complex largely aimed at families and the only way to explore the industrial exhibits is to pay full admission to the park (currently £9.50). However, I didn't grudge a single penny as the tale is a fascinating one. Growing up as a Fifer, I had little grasp of the scale of the shale oil industry across the water. Nor did I learn until much later that my mother's grandad hailed from Midlothian and started his working life as a shale miner, as did his three brothers. The development of deep-sea drilling and enormous oil tankers inevitably changed the method of sourcing the liquid black gold but the domestic shale scene was extended by large government subsidies during WW2 in an attempt to secure a guaranteed supply of fuel. Eventually this had to give way to economies of scale.

The museum route formed the first part of today's walk, passing through the original Livingston village around which the new town was constructed. Subsequent family research revealed my maternal grandad had a sister who died aged 6 in the children's hospital that was situated here. The traditional inn and surrounding buildings are painted white and I explored the old churchyard before encountering a curious stone circle. I then broke away from the River Almond, following the Lochshot Burn path up to Eilburn Reservoir. This body of water was a pleasant spot with people fishing and enjoying picnics. I made my way up to the railway line and the next three miles were spent paralleling the tracks on a tarmac walkway. I was never going to complain about a trek in close proximity to trains! I passed by Livingston North Station and the next stop on the line was Uphall. At this point I swerved away to follow the course of an old mineral line that served the shale oil plant at nearby Pumpherston. An industrial link to the past. The highlight of this stretch was the impressive 9-arch Camps Viaduct across the River Almond. The 75-foot tall structure offered nice views across the surrounding countryside but I had to leave the railway path here in order to follow the river back to Livingston town centre.

The walkway was well signed and largely followed the banks of the Almond. I passed a sewage works before making a little detour through the village of Mid Calder. It had a couple of rustic pubs but I had to press on as I wanted to be back in Livingston for the start of Scotland's first match in the Women's Football World Cup. I found a connecting path back to the river and encountered a tidy little stadium - Livingston Rugby Club. As I approached the town centre I could sense a few droplets of rain in the air and I cut across the Asda car park to enter the huge shopping centre at the opposite end to where I started. The complex is a quarter of a mile long and while I'm the very opposite of a shopaholic, I can see the attraction for Fifers making their way out here. The rain came on just as I entered the sanctuary of the supermarket. Good timing! I walked the entire length of the mall, exiting at the far end and seeking out Wetherspoons, where I ordered a pint of ale and found a stool with a view of the TV.

'Spoons generally don't do music and sports commentary. The match was being shown without sound but I could live with that. It had been a great achievement for the Scots to qualify for the tournament. The crucial fixture had taken place at Falkirk and I'd briefly thought about heading through. However, an unlikely combination of results was required and I gave it a miss. Lo' and behold, the matches panned out in Scotland's favour and the ladies were in the finals in France. Our opening game was against a strong England side and the Scots soon found themselves 2-0 down, the first goal the result of a controversial penalty awarded by VAR. The ball was blasted against a defender's arm from close range and a spot-kick awarded. A ridiculous direction for football to go in. Scotland pulled one back late on but ultimately to no avail. The same scoring pattern occurred in the next group match against Japan. There was still a chance to go through as one of the best third-placed teams by beating Argentina in the final group match. I actually watched this one at home on iPlayer after a night out in Edinburgh. Not knowing the score, I was delighted to see the ladies race into a three-goal lead with just 20 minutes left to play. Home and hosed! - or so I thought. The roof fell in and the South Americans netted three times to level the match and send the Scots home.

Anyway - I digress. The Livingston walk was an interesting day out and a visit to the town is recommended. It was actually built across the county boundary of West and Mid Lothian. Aerial maps reveal a strip of trees along the dividing line. Nowadays the whole place is administered by the West Lothian Council Area, which I guess is more practical.

Culross and Craigluscar

A gloriously sunny Saturday at the end of September. A day for hanging out the washing early doors then head off exploring. I'd had Dunimarle Castle on my radar for a few months. An article had appeared in the Dunfermline Press saying the buildings and gardens were opening to the public for the first time in nearly 40 years.

Dunimarle is now a private residence but had previously been a museum until 1980. Following a lengthy period lying empty, it has been fully restored by the new owners.

The entrance gate is just a short stroll from the car park at the edge of the village. The path climbs up to St Serf's Chapel which was built in the 1870s as a private place of worship for the estate owners. After falling out of use, it eventually became a mausoleum. The chapel walls feature some nice stonework and there are a few old gravestones dotted around. Pushing on, the castle came into sight through a gap in the trees. The crenellated tower is striking and there are obviously good views across the Forth from within. A sign informed us that a visit to the gardens would cost £2, and for £7 the caretaker would conduct a guided tour of the interior. We were content to wander around the grounds and found an impressive avenue of giant redwood trees to the rear.

We bumped into gardener and caretaker George, who relieved us of our pound coins. He chatted for a bit and told us the visitor numbers over the season were up and down but generally positive. Apparently the owner uses the castle as a holiday home. Obviously not short of a bob or two. There are also plans to open a café on the terrace which looks out across the water. It's certainly worth visiting Dunimarle if you happen to be in the area during the season. I returned to Culross in the afternoon to stitch together a historical walk for the website. I've been to the village countless times over the years and have trodden most of the streets and pathways so it wasn't difficult to formulate a circular route. Starting at the other end of town, I headed up a steep grassy trail towards the abbey. This path is part of the newly established Fife Pilgrim Way - a 64 mile inland route from Culross to St Andrews. There is another starting point at North Queensferry and the two initial legs converge at Dunfermline Abbey. Having already completed the 117-mile Fife Coastal Path, I must get stuck into the Pilgrim Way at some point. I didn't dally too long at the abbey as I'd been before and took the public rights of way across to the ruined West Kirk. This is an Outlander filming location and therefore a mandatory stop on a Culross heritage tour.

Leaving the old church, the path led straight back down to the main road and from there it was a short distance back to the village centre. An information board on the shore relayed the story of a 16th century underwater coal mine that had been constructed in the intertidal zone by piling up an artificial island and boring down the middle. Strangely, I saw a TV programme the very next day called Britain at Low Tide, that featured this moat pit. Aerial photography revealed the clear cylindrical outline of the workings and I'm seriously thinking about pulling on a pair of wellies and going out for a look. One part of maritime history that's accessible (but for how long?) is Culross pier. A foot crossing takes you over the single railway track and a wooden walkway leads to the stone jetty. The pier is crumbling in places and hopefully funds will be found to stop any further decay. The railway is also moribund at the moment following the closure of the nearby Longannet Power Station. Passenger services ceased in 1930 and the line thereafter carried freight traffic. These days it is occasionally used for special steam tours. Calls to establish an Alloa to Edinburgh link via Culross have so far fallen flat. On one hand, the infrastructure is in place but folk often conveniently forget the track and signalling would all have to be replaced (at vast cost) to meet the demands of a passenger service. There's also the matter of Edinburgh bound trains having to reverse at Dunfermline. I don't wish to pour cold water on the project but the reality is it's not happening anytime soon.

I wish I could tell a few tales about the interior of Culross Palace but I must hang my head in shame and admit I've never been. I think I once attended some sort of fair in the courtyard but isn't it amazing how we sometimes take visitor attractions on our doorstep completely for granted? I'm sure there are a fair few Edinburgh folk who have never set foot inside their castle. Moving swiftly on, I had a wander around the winding cobbled streets of the ancient royal burgh. The village pub is called The Red Lion and it has an extensive menu and a welcome cask beer pump. I've been a few times over the years. I now had my Culross historical trail formally mapped and ready to publish. The sun was still shining and I headed eastwards to Carnock Moor to begin an assault on Craigluscar Hill. It's a small secluded peak in the shadow of Saline Hill and Knock Hill. Largely unknown as only narrow minor roads pass by.

I first had to negotiate Carnock Moor, a chunk of mixed woodland near the hamlet of Cowstrandburn. There is some parking at the entrance and a typical Forestry Commission road leads through the trees. I was looking for an offshoot path near the other end but missed it and came to the end of the stony access track. As I began to retrace my steps, my eye was caught by a red squirrel scampering up and down a trunk. I managed to get a couple of nice pics and it's good to see a native species thriving. I found the trail I'd overlooked, hidden by some overhanging vegetation. I was soon clear of the forest and walking along a pleasant path with fine views of Saline Hill. Even though it was a September scorcher, I always wear boots for hillwalking at this time of year as you often encounter muddy patches. This indeed proved to be the case and chunky footwear is also ideal for vaulting field boundary fences containing barbed wire. I passed through an open gate and cut the corner of a cattle field, the livestock a couple of hundred yards distant. I don't take silly risks with cows and in this instance it was perfectly safe to proceed. Even so, it was slightly unnerving as they began moving towards me. Not that they even remotely threatened to cover the ground. I easily negotiated the fence. Hand on the post, boot up on the top strand and over I go.

An informal trail led through the long grass around the base of the hill. I'd read it was easy to climb the far side which was covered in heather, therefore I resisted any temptation to try and find a route through the thick tree plantations on the lower slopes in my present vicinity. Arriving at the northern flank, I followed a narrow path up the open hillside and the gradient was initially severe. Not to worry, it's quite nice to sit down for a breather on spongy heather and take in the views. A peaceful valley lay between me and the neighbouring Knock Hill. Although Craigluscar is a designated nature reserve, it doesn't look as if many people venture out this way. As is often the case with lower hills, the sharp slog soon gives way to a far gentler stroll to the top. Craigluscar doesn't have an obvious summit and the ground undulates considerably upon the plateau. I wandered up to what appeared to be the highest point and there were excellent views over Dunfermline towards the Firth of Forth. The bridges dominated the horizon and Dunfermline Abbey was easy to pick out. An information board furnished me with details about the Iron-Age fort that once stood on the hill. The south face looked too severe to descend and I simply retraced my steps back towards Carnock Moor. Although the sunlight had held up well, allowing me to take some fine photos from the summit, it was remarkable how quickly the day began to dim as I reached the lower ground. Preparing to skirt the field, I saw a stationary mass next to the open gate in the distance. I hadn't noticed any large boulders on the way in and my camera zoom confirmed the presence of a sleeping cow. I therefore leapt over the fence at an earlier point and gave the beast a wide berth. Then home for a well-earned rest.

Commercial Closure

I was travelling home from work on the bus, pondering whether I should pop into the Commercial Inn for a quick pint. The pub lies just behind the bus station and I've been enjoying their wonderful selection of real ales for the past 20 years. I then remembered I'd said I would attend Nicole's evening yoga class and would therefore have to shoot straight home to Cairneyhill. No problem, there was always tomorrow.

A shock was to unfold. While scrolling through my Facebook feed, I saw a story posted by the local press saying my favourite pub had closed due to unforeseen circumstances - a note with this message having been attached to the door. Most worrying of all, the article suggested the state of affairs was permanent. I couldn't believe it. The Commercial was a long-standing purveyor of cask ale and a regular entry in the Good Beer Guide. It had also won the Fife Pub of the Year award on no fewer than five occasions. The place was well known and respected in real-ale circles. I tended to visit whenever I was changing buses in Dunfermline, on my way home. I classed myself as a punter who dropped in for a couple of pints on a semi-regular basis. Yes, the pub was usually quiet during the week but that's entirely normal. If I happened to find myself there on weekends, it was always significantly busier. I certainly never had the impression it was struggling - if that's indeed what forced the shutdown. No information has been forthcoming to date.

I ran round for a look when I arrived in Dunfermline and - worryingly - a steel shutter had been bolted across the entrance. I will certainly miss the place if this does indeed turn out to be the end. Yes there's a Wetherspoons less than a minute away and - credit where it's due - it does serve a changing selection of well-kept ales at bargain prices, but I liked the traditional atmosphere of the Commercial.

It's no secret that pubs up and down the land face challenging times and the closure rate is frightening. However, traditional alehouses in Scotland (and there's not that many of them outside of Edinburgh) had proved remarkably resolute. Discerning drinkers will always seek out quality beer. In my opinion, a major issue for the licensed trade is the growing belief that a visit to the pub is unaffordable. Lifestyles change, as do people's priorities. Many believe a smartphone contract is essential to modern life and happily allocate £50 of their monthly income to this connectivity, yet baulk at the prospect of a few drinks in their local.

Small businesses provide a vital sense of community. As a regular customer, your face will become known and you'll receive a more personal service. It's not all about a race to the bottom to see who can provide the cheapest deals. It can be a case of use it or lose it. I make a conscious effort to patronise the petrol station at the end of my street. I visit the two convenience stores in my village. Fair enough, I haven't bothered with the pubs but that's because I'm a real-ale aficionado and gravitated instead to the Commercial. If just half the local population made some effort to support the traders on their doorstep then all would be well and good. I raise my glass to all those who ever drank in the Commercial Inn.