Delving into Devilla

The large plantation between Cairneyhill and Kincardine is known as Devilla Forest. Operated by the Forestry Commission, many of the trees were planted in the 1950s but parts of the woodland are much older, dating back to the days of the Tulliallan Estate. I've been to Devilla many times as it's just along the road from me. A lot of history is contained within the woodland. Myths and legends also resonate. I recently sought out some of the more obscure artefacts but this post is also a compilation of previous trips.

There is one short waymarked route in the forest. Known as the Red Squirrel Trail, it loops around Loch Bordie. A couple of years ago, I successfully completed the 1000-mile challenge and did my final walk on this popular circuit in a frosty Devilla. I returned last weekend to seek out some of the historical items which lie not far from the beaten path. One unsavoury aspect of this woodland is the amount of dog owners who permit their mutt to defecate on the ground then leave the mess lying. Not much better are those who bag up the poo yet don't take it with them. Stranger still are the folk who go to the effort of lobbing it into the nearest bush where it often dangles for the world to see. The weirdest of the lot are the individuals who actually tie the offending bag on to a branch, thereby creating some sort of scatological sculpture. Filthy b**tards! On a hot day you can sometimes smell the dog's dirt on the Red Squirrel Trail. Not nice at all. I have no wish to offend responsible dog walkers but there is definitely a rogue element. Probably "proud to be Scottish" as well.

Just off the main loop lies the Standard Stone with its two depressions. It is said to be the place where King Duncan raised the Scots flag prior to the Battle of Bordie against the Danes, the Scandinavians emerging victorious. Historians are undecided on whether the scrap actually happened and some reckon the stone to be nothing more than a parish boundary marker. I'm quite happy to run with the battle tale. It keeps you guessing if nothing else. From the stone, I wandered over to the edge of the forest to view the remains of Bordie Castle a few hundred yards distant. They are now incorporated into a farmhouse on the other side of the A985 and part of the ruined upper floor juts into the air. Unfortunately it was far too misty to take a decent photo. The castle was clearly constructed in the tower house style often found around West Fife and the neighbouring county of Clackmannanshire. One thing that had been niggling me was the presence of circular drystone structures deep inside Devilla. I'd seen pictures of them on a geocaching website and had attempted to find them a few months previously. I gave up on that occasion after trudging around off-path on boggy ground and finding nothing.

But I was here anyway and they do say good things come in threes. I decided to give it another bash, taking a narrower path Nicole and I call the mushroom trail. It used to be a rather muddy informal track and we did indeed find some nice pickings there over the years, including the fabled cep or penny bun. In my early days of shrooming, I brought back a bucketload of sickeners from this location as they looked rather tempting. Subsequent research suggested it might be better not to eat them, the clue being in the name. I should point out that I would never contemplate eating a fungus unless I had a 100% positive ID. Many people say to me they'd like to collect mushrooms but are afraid of poisoning themselves. Well, the trick is to seek expert advice to allow you to recognise a handful of safe types....and leave everything else well alone. Our mushroom trail has now been upgraded to a gravel surfaced cycle track and who knows if it will continue to bear fruit in the future.

I studied the rough map of Devilla which was created in the 90s and shows many points of interest. I figured I could leave the forestry track at a tight bend and take an approximate bearing towards the stone circles. At least that was the theory. It turned out there was a track of sorts to follow, by which I mean it looked like a bulldozer had come this way in the past and churned up the ground. Once again I found myself in uncharted terrain and just hoped I wouldn't end up randomly blundering around. One thing saved me from this fate. I had read the circles were near an area known as Praybrae Wood and I happened to be walking steeply uphill. This looked promising. I emerged over the rise and scanned my surroundings. There they were! A couple of curious stone structures. It also became apparent that the way to the funny stone mounds is loosely signalled by ribbons strung on various trees. I haven't found any confirmation regarding the purpose of the circles, other than the fact an explosives research area was located around here during the war (of course military installations aren't marked on old OS maps). Maybe it was the work of aliens. I headed home a happy man but later found out the remains of the actual M.O.D. buildings lie a little further north. Looks like I'll have to go back for another scout around.

There are four lochs in Devilla. Bordie I've already mentioned and this one is the easiest to access from the main car park. Information boards on the Red Squirrel Trail relay tales of witches and other supernatural goings on. I've also been at Keir Dam several times as it lies just beyond the end of our mushroom path and it's a peaceful location with swans usually in attendance. Until last Christmas, our exploration of the forest had been limited to the eastern end closest to home. I decided it was time to seek out Moor Loch and Peppermill Dam which lie closer to Kincardine. I worked out two circular walks that would encompass relics from the past. The forecast was for cold crispy mornings and I set out just after sunrise to blow away some of the usual festive excesses. A study of online maps had revealed a core path running through the grounds of the Scottish Police College, located on the edge of Kincardine. New recruits have trained here since 1954 and the main building was formerly known as Tulliallan Castle.

An open gateway led into the old estate and I skirted the edge of the compound, passing the National Police Memorial. Signs did inform me that a visitor's presence could be challenged but the place was quiet and and I proceeded unhindered towards the woods. A roughly circular network of paths would take me around Moor Loch and I soon caught sight of water. I had been told the loch level varied throughout the year but it was fairly full and there was an island in the middle. I found a bench to sit on and enjoyed the views and the tranquillity of being alone. Resuming my walk, the trail took me away from the loch before angling back. A narrow path signed "Danish Camp" led into the trees and I followed this. It brought me right to the water's edge and ran through an impressive rhododendron tunnel - definitely worth a return visit when in full bloom. I didn't find much evidence of the camp but apparently it was used as a base in the lead-up to the Battle of Bordie.

After completing my loop of around three miles, it was time for a little urban exploring. An informal path shadowed the police college boundary and ran past an old-fashioned water tank, the kind that sat on high stilts. Further on were the remains of a laundry which presumably functioned in the days when Tulliallan was a working estate and officially part of Perthshire. A few of the historic counties had exclaves, also known as detached parts. The parishes of Tulliallan and Culross were transferred to Fife during a tidying-up of boundaries in 1890 and the subsequent introduction of county councils. Quite a lot of the old wash house was still standing and I took the obligatory photos. On the way back I sought out the ice house which required a bit of guesswork. The structure appeared to be in good condition but was gated shut. A nice winter wander and I was back in the forest the following day for a visit to Peppermill Dam - the largest loch.

I approached Devilla from the same end and rounded a corner of Moor Loch before veering off towards Peppermill. I had again opted for an early morning departure and the forest was deathly quiet. Until I heard a familiar rat-a-tat from above. I saw a woodpecker hammering away on a tree trunk and reached for my camera. Having only previously observed woodpeckers on feeding stations at nature reserves, this was to be my first live action shot. Except it didn't turn out that way. Of all the moments a battery could choose to die! I therefore had to switch to a cheap phone camera for the rest of the walk. They're not bad for photographing objects close up but vastly inferior for landscape shots as you can tell from the picture above. Peppermill Dam was formerly a reservoir for the paper industry. I guess there's a clue in the title! A path runs all the way round the water but today I planned to cut across one corner. I wasn't completely alone today as I could see an artist sitting sketching on the far side. A cold day for it!

I wanted to visit the mausoleum just north of the loch and soon found the site. A chapel originally stood here and there are gravestones dating from the 17th century, several of which have skull and crossbones motifs. Some folk mistakenly believe these symbols signify a plague death but in fact they merely depict the concept of mortality which defines us all. The Keith family tomb was erected in 1830 and is now a Category-B listed building, although somewhat overgrown. A rather eerie place and one not widely known. It was time for the return trek and a farm track brought me to another entrance to the police college grounds. Again it was signed as a core path and I walked the entire length of the compound, past Tulliallan Castle itself and what appeared to be a skid pan for driver training. The present castle was completed around 1820 in place of the previous structure which dated back centuries beforehand. Nothing seemed to be happening at the college but it was the week between Christmas and New Year so I assume the cadets were all off duty. I myself headed back to the house for a hot drink.

Did someone mention plague victims? There is a grave on the fringes of Devilla where three child siblings were buried after succumbing to the illness on the same day in 1645. It is still maintained today and marked with various toys and trinkets. I had intended to walk from Cairneyhill to High Valleyfield then follow a ridge above Culross to reach the southern boundary of the forest where the grave was located. A fair distance but Nicole shaved off half a mile by dropping me at the roundabout just outside our village. I landed lucky when Ronnie Collins stopped to pick me up in his works van. Ronnie is a local historian who organises guided tours of the old Valleyfield Estate during the months when snowdrops abound. He is also involved with the West Fife Woodlands Group who do a lot of good work in maintaining local paths. They have published an excellent colour-coded map showing local trails. It was at the launch of the map that I'd met Ronnie and I was glad to accept his offer of a lift to High Valleyfield. He also furnished me with a lot of information about the grand Valleyfield House which was pulled down in 1941.

I began my walk and the elevation allowed me to see over the Valleyfield ash lagoons. They occupy part of a man-made peninsula known as Preston Island. The land reclamation process subsumed the original industrial island which was protected by a sea wall and established by Robert Preston as a base for coal mining and salt production. "Floating Bob" was one of the country's richest men and Valleyfield House was his stately home. I passed through the grounds of Culross Abbey Mansion and eventually reached the ruined church used as a filming location for the TV series Outlander. More old graves here, then I joined the path bordering the bottom of the forest. A wooden sign directs you to a plague grave among the trees and I hopped over the stile to investigate. As previously stated, the grave is cared for and decorated with various objects. Ribbons dangle from the surrounding trees. A quiet reflective place. I took a farm road back towards Culross and was picked up by Nicole. This brings to an end my account of the Devilla adventures so far. Who knows what else lurks within.

Fife Coast Drive

We live on the western fringes of the Kingdom of Fife, a natural peninsula which juts out between Edinburgh and Dundee. The Fife Coastal Path is a 117-mile walking trail that follows the shoreline from Kincardine to Newburgh, taking in a varied landscape. I have completed the route in its entirety and can heartily recommend it to fellow walkers. There are nearly always good public transport options for returning to your starting point.

The car reigned supreme today and we headed for the picturesque fishing area known as the East Neuk. More specifically, Fife Ness, the most easterly point of the county, near the harbour town of Crail. The nearest available parking was at Crail Golf Course and a sign requested that visitors pay £1 at the club shop. I certainly had no problem with that but the gentleman behind the counter was somewhat on the pompous side. We requested directions to the coastal bird hide and he stressed how dangerous it was to cross the golf course. He didn't say we couldn't do it though (but it was made perfectly clear that access to the clubhouse toilets was not granted to the plebs). Off we trooped and it quickly became apparent that the route over the hallowed turf was in fact an official core path. We had absolutely every right to be there and I hoped the bloke was seething from every pore. The hide was situated near the old Fife Ness harbour and a member of Fife Bird Club allowed us inside. It is a private viewpoint and we were soon furnished with membership forms for our consideration. The man was very friendly and eagerly outlined the type of bird activity normally in evidence.

We saw several gannets swooping around and a diver whose throat colour I can't quite recall. I might join the club one day. A point of interest for me on the drive back to Crail was the old airfield which is now partially occupied by a karting circuit. Many old dilapidated buildings remain and I had time for a quick look around the site. Racing was in progress so I stuck to the fringes. The airfield was opened during the first World War and used as a naval air station when the second global conflict broke out. The remaining structures all date from WW2. Crail also has a largely unknown connection to the Cold War as the airfield hosted a Russian language school to train intelligence agents. More information can be found in the town's excellent little museum. Our next stopping point was Anstruther, a few miles further down the coast. The famous fish & chips shop attracts many visitors (including Hollywood royalty and actual royalty), as does the general seaside ambience.

Parking was at a premium on a warm weekend afternoon in Anstruther but I managed to grab a space. We strolled past the harbour with its large array of boats. Commercial fish traffic is handled at Pittenweem down the road and it's mainly pleasure craft moored at Anstruther, although lobster creels continue to be deployed. We ventured on to the sands just as the sun fell upon the town centre, presenting a wonderful photo opportunity. There were a few gulls squawking away but no exotic bird action to be found today. Instead, we made a beeline for the ice cream café and found a seat by the quayside. Anstruther is a gem of a place I return to time and time again. Below the East Neuk lies a more industrial part of Fife where coal mining and shipping formerly held sway. Leven is a large town with a seafaring heritage. The adjacent Methil Docks were at one time a major trading post but decline set in during the latter part of the 20th century. The area recently received a boost with the announcement that the dormant freight railway to the old power station is to be reopened as a passenger service.

Leven promenade is a handy platform for spotting birds. Sanderlings often run along the beach and plover can be spotted among the rocks. Turnstone and oystercatchers are also regular visitors. One of the spectacular sights is to watch the gannets dive into the sea from a great height. All of the above were out in force today and it rounded off a lovely excursion in perfect fashion.

Embo Excursion

Located 40 miles north of Inverness, the village of Embo has a population of a few hundred people and lies in the sprawling Highland county of Sutherland. Fishing was formerly the main industry but the harbour is now abandoned and a large caravan resort - Grannie's Heilan' Hame - draws many tourists to this beautiful seaside location today. The nearest town is Dornoch, just over three miles distant.

I have great childhood memories of Embo. My parents took us up to Grannie's on caravan holidays and I would spend hours playing on the beach and in the sand dunes. Later on, my folks purchased a static van on the site and the now grown-up Fraser kids all booked at least one time slot per year. The caravan was later moved down the coast to Monifieth and finally sold to a local farmer. The site owners place limits on the maximum permitted age of a static caravan, usually somewhere between 15 and 25 years. You are then "invited" to upgrade or instructed to move elsewhere. As these deadlines came and went, my folks were by then in their 70s and decided to cash in their chips. There was a family return to Embo two years ago when we all headed north to celebrate my parents' golden wedding in a place that was special to them. Nicole and I decided this year to make a weekend pilgrimage and keep the tradition going. This meant departing straight after work on Friday and hopefully arriving at our Air B&B before the darkness descended. A straight drive to Embo takes around 3 hours 45 minutes but we always include a brief stop en route. As I finished at 15.30 and with our landlord requesting that we arrive by 8pm, we had no time to dally. The journey ran to schedule and I noted the dualling works in progress on the A9 carriageway just north of Perth. We halted at the House of Bruar country stores for a refreshment break. Our digs in Embo were in an end terraced house. The room was comfortable and we had use of our own toilet and shower. The landlord was a pleasant chap who told us the doors were never locked and we could simply come and go as we pleased. Perfect!

Fatigued after the long drive, we crashed out and enjoyed a breakfast of toast and cereal the following morning. Dornoch was the first port of call on the day's itinerary. The town has a lovely bookshop and I headed straight there. It's the kind of place I would never visit without buying something and I treated myself to a couple of books. One offering a humorous look at maps and travel and also the new release from Max Hastings, a weighty account of the Vietnam war. Hastings is brilliant at writing about major conflicts and I learn a great deal from his meticulously researched work. The shop cat Gilbert slept in a basket on the counter in bygone days and it's great to see a business like this still thriving. Next up was a visit to the Cocoa Mountain for a mug of their self-proclaimed world's best hot chocolate - an assertion I tend not to challenge too rigorously. Their original premises are in the far-flung craft village of Balnakeil, right in the northwest corner of Scotland. A few drives up there were undertaken in the past but it's certainly useful to have a branch in Dornoch. After this refuelling stop, we wandered around the old town, formerly the seat of local government in Sutherland. We located the Witch's Stone and read the rather gruesome tale of Janet Horne, the last woman in Scotland to be burned at the stake.

A short drive up the A9 took us to Golspie, apparently the first town you cannot realistically avoid when travelling from south to north in the UK. We passed through in search of Carn Liath, an iron age broch close to the shoreline. It was an impressive sight and the excavations have revealed the complete extent of the structure. We drove back into Golspie for lunch at a very blustery pier. Warming beverages followed at the Coffee Bothy. Well, we were on holiday and Nicole was still celebrating the remarkable achievement of securing a first-class honours degree. The rest of the day was spent viewing the birdlife at Loch Fleet and wandering along the colourful sands of Embo Beach. We enjoyed a nice dinner at the Eagle Hotel in Dornoch, an old haunt of ours. My chicken curry was washed down with a pint of Orkney Red McGregor. Afterwards the local pipe band did their usual Saturday night performance on the High Street, much to the delight of the visitors.

Sunday's long homeward trek was punctuated by several nature stops. Leaving Embo, we saw the seals slumbering on the sandbanks in the sea loch and a forest walk near Golspie yielded an impressive haul of chanterelle mushrooms. We caught sight of a bird we thought might be a crossbill but it was gone in a flash. Insufficient evidence to place that tick on the list. Three firths have to be crossed on the A9: Dornoch, Cromarty and Moray, the latter two demarcating the Black Isle, which is actually a peninsula. A quick stop at the Storehouse of Foulis proved a mild disappointment as they no longer have a deli counter. Chocolate (with sea salt) and oatcakes it was then. Not that I protested too heavily. It was a fairly relaxed drive down the spine of Scotland, the mad tourist season having passed. We cut off the A9 near Aviemore to visit the RSPB Loch Garten Osprey Centre, famous for being the UK location chosen by the majestic fishers for breeding purposes in the UK, after a long absence.

The ospreys weren't in attendance at this time of year but the reserve itself remains open. A major draw is the presence of the crested tits, who come down from the treetops to feed. There are flighty and notoriously difficult to photograph but I got lucky after training my camera on the scattered seed and waiting patiently. Nicole also managed to hand-feed coal tits and another welcome sight was a tree creeper doing exactly as its name would suggest. Ditto the woodpecker. I must admit I'm more of a bird photographer than a twitcher but it's always interesting to observe the behaviour of our feathered friends, especially at close quarters. There was a funny moment when a red squirrel appeared on the scene, scaring the birds away and helping itself to the nutty contents of the feeder. Everyone has to eat.

Time to hit the road again and head for home. It was perhaps a tad ambitious to go as far north as Embo for just a two-night stay. However, we wanted to visit one of our favourite parts of Scotland and sitting for hours in the car is part of the deal. The chanterelles made a delicious meal served with pasta and a creamy sauce. Food always tastes better if you've actually picked it yourself. I put my feet up and savoured a chocolate-infused stout I'd bought along the way. The plan is to make the Embo run an annual excursion. I won't put up much resistance to that.