Spring was in the air and I had a free Sunday. It was warm(ish) and dry outside. What better way to restore some fitness than by tackling a local hill? I plumped for the Bishop which overlooks Loch Leven and stands just over 1500 feet high. Half a Munro! Despite growing up in this area, I'd only ever scaled the Bishop once. That was with a small walking group from my old place of work and we took the relatively benign route along the shoulder. Today I planned to get the blood pumping by heading straight up the main face from the lovely little village of Kinnesswood which sits on the incline. Height was rapidly gained from the outset.
After dog-legging round a water storage tank, I was standing on the Michael Bruce Way. This is a pleasant circular route that skirts the lower slope of the Bishop and returns to Kinnesswood via the next village of Scotlandwell and the old peatlands that form Portmoak Moss. Nicole and I had done this trail previously, which is named after a local poet. Today my mission took me straight over the crossroads and up the hill path. A real thigh burner was in store. I was in no hurry and happy to take regular breaks upon a convenient rock or tuft of grass, turning round to take in the unfolding views across Loch Leven and the Shire of Kinross. Truth be known, I needed those frequent pauses as I was physically out of sorts after weeks without proper exercise. Only one way to combat that particular ailment! Stamina-sapping gradient aside, my navigational task was a simple one as I merely had to head in the direction of a rocky outcrop just below the ridge. Upon reaching this point, I reclined against a stone and watched the gliders from nearby Portmoak Airfield fly around the hill. They sneak up on you silently. One day our roads will be like that when we've all made the switch to electric cars. I've certainly more chance of seeing that happen than fleets of driverless vehicles ferrying us around. About a decade ago, I heard an expert confidently state on the radio that he would be astonished if autonomous cars weren't commonplace by the year 2020. Well we've passed that particular milestone bud and not a single machine has made it off the test circuit without a human being present in case of emergency (which kind of defeats the purpose). Anyway, I digress. The things you'll do to catch your breath! Up on top, Bishop Hill has a surprisingly large undulating plateau. I strolled around, gazing across to the neighbouring Lomond Hills in Fife and Benarty on the other side of Loch Leven. The Bishop summit has a weather station resembling an enormous golf ball. I ate my lunch and noted the walkers on the myriad paths below, obviously just passing by. I was happy to mount just a straight up and down job.
One thing that often catches out newbie hillwalkers is the fact the descent can be just as tough on the legs as the upward climb. Moreover, you have to be more aware of where you're plonking your feet. I was returning by the reverse route and reached a path junction I had ignored on the way up. Having another look, the track off to the side looked like it might provide a gentler rise to the top as it appeared to wind around the rocky patch I'd fixed my sights on earlier. Having plenty time on my hands, I decided to give it a try and perhaps a identify more forgiving route for my obligatory walk description on the website. Muscles already weakened, I didn't actually find this passage any less taxing on the day but it's certainly the way I would go on a future visit. From my new vantage point I could see another large loch. This was a actually a man-made effort on the site of the old Westfield energy plant. Apparently the excavations were at the one time the deepest opencast workings in Europe. The massive hole has now been filled with water and I must head over for an explore sometime. Back at my original route, I continued downwards, passing a couple of families with young children who had climbed a bit of the hill but didn't appear to be going further. I skipped (make that hobbled) over the Michael Bruce Way and was soon back at the car. I went for a little stroll along the main street in Kinnesswood and noticed the red phone box had been converted into a book exchange. I love that sort of thing but didn't have anything with me to swap. Back home it was time to put my feet up and I was pleased I'd made the effort to conquer a local peak. Going down the stairs the next morning was the toughest job of all as my legs had stiffened up big time. But at least I was back in the game! The following weekend we were trying to think of places to go and Nicole suggested a trip to Ceres - a charming village near Cupar where Scotland's oldest Highland games are staged. That sounded good to me and I added to the itinerary by saying we should check out Hill of Tarvit mansion, a property owned by the National Trust. According to the website, the grounds were fully open.
I've written about Ceres in a couple of previous posts so I'll keep it brief here. The Fife Folk Museum is situated at the heart of the rustic village and is well worth a visit (as is the tearoom). The burn flowing past the museum is a good spot to catch a sighting of the dipper - our only aquatic songbird. I recommend taking a stroll through the gardens of St John's Lodge. Although a private residence, the notice on the gate makes it clear that visitors are most welcome. The recently-created Fife Pilgrim Way passes through Ceres and must surely have brought increased footfall. One final note, the name of the village should never be pronounced like a "series" you watch on Netflix. The stress falls on the second syllable and should come out like si-RESS. If I may don my phonetics cap for a minute, common examples of misplaced stress frequently heard from outsiders are Carlisle, Caithness and Mallaig. In all three, the emphasis should be on the first part. Ceres was quiet today and after a spot of lunch at the picnic table and a brief stroll around, we pushed on to Hill of Tarvit. We used to have National Trust memberships but found we weren't visiting enough locations to justify the cost. It must have been 15 years since were inside the Tarvit stately home. Today a walk around the grounds was the only (and far cheaper) option. The mansion is Edwardian and was built upon the site of a much older property (the old wings were retained). The modern estate became home to the Sharp family who were involved in the Dundee jute trade. Frederick Sharp amassed a huge collection of paintings, porcelain and antique furniture which is now on display to the paying public. The new abode was state of the art with central heating and electricity throughout, along with an internal telephone system. An avid golfer, Sharp commissioned a private 9-hole course alongside the extensively landscaped gardens. It now operates as a hickory course which means playing with retro wooden-shafted clubs and feather-stuffed balls. What would Tiger make of that?
It was indeed a delight to wander around the manicured surroundings and view the stone staircase with the house sitting symmetrically above. A sundial was positioned above the main entrance. Apparently visitors are encouraged to try croquet and other lawn games during the summer months. We headed round to the old laundry and I was able to view the washing and ironing equipment through an open window. A shift here involved rising at 5am and working until the evening. A reminder that behind the opulence was an army of people (deemed to be of lower class) grafting away. That said, a career "in service" probably had its benefits relative to the living standards of the day. I suppose it meant a steady supply of food, sanitary accommodation and pocket money to spend on your day off. Clean air too. The gardens to the rear were on a fairly steep slope and the actual Hill of Tarvit loomed behind. We made our way to an ornate iron gate set into the boundary wall and took a short hike through a patch of woodland. Upon reaching a style, I had a clear view up the grassy slopes towards the top of the ridge. The actual summit was across to the left and I could make out part of a monument. Until this point in time, I hadn't actually planned to scale the hill, I had been more interested in seeing and photographing the mansion and grounds. But since I was already a quarter of the way up....it seemed incredibly rude to turn back. I reckoned I could be up and down in no time and proceeded to batter up the slope with Nicole waiting behind. I reached paused for breath a couple of times before the land levelled out and I was able to make the straightforward trek to the highest point. The summit was marked by an impressive stone structure and a handy viewfinder pointed out the surrounding landmarks. Beautiful views were available in all directions across this part of Central Fife and I could make out the North Sea in the distance. A modest climb in a fairly flat area can reveal a stunning panorama and this was certainly the case here. The Lomond Hills were in close proximity as was Largo Law. I was looking down upon the county town of Cupar. The East Coast Main Line was clearly visible and I heard a familiar hoot. This stretch of railway has a couple of level crossings and a train was obviously on its way.
I steadied my camera on the trig point and lined up the shot. I always enjoy including a train in my palette of pictures for the day. A few people were either milling around the summit or advancing up the slopes. Obviously a popular walk among locals. I began to pick my course back down and bumped into Nicole who had decided to do the climb after all. Back I headed towards the top, following an assortment of faint tracks and open terrain. A curious structure down below was Scotstarvit Tower - a six-storey L-plan dating from the early17th century and a scheduled ancient monument in the care of Historic Environment Scotland. We didn't investigate further today but it's certainly one for the future as I'm sure we'll be back at Ceres. Another Fife hill had been ticked off the list and more historical knowledge had been gained. Not a bad day.
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