My stash of ale had run out and a Facebook post offered the opportunity of replenishment. A socially-distanced market was being staged in the coastal town of Methil near the football stadium at the former dockland area. Among the stallholders would be Coul Brewery from Glenrothes. I'd previously sampled this microbrewery's wares at beer festivals and other markets. I had been impressed with their offerings and it is also part of my raison d'etre to support local ale producers. Throw in the chance to visit Fleecefaulds Meadow - a hidden nature reserve just a few miles inland - and it had all the makings of a nice wee day out.
I started drinking in the late 80s and caught the tail end of an age when pubs proliferated in ex-mining towns and the majority of punters strayed no further than supping a handful of dull keg brews. Lager was becoming increasingly dominant but there remained a large market for 70 shilling, Special, Heavy (delete according to area) while the "old man's" tipple was often 60, Ordinary, Light (apply the same process). Edinburgh drinkers had their fancy 80 shilling and Guinness was pretty much omnipresent. That, my friend, was pretty much the bar-top selection in any number of working men's pubs across the county. Tennent's and Scottish & Newcastle controlled much of the pub estate while Maclays of Alloa were still hanging on. Not knowing any better, I regarded Tennent's 70 as "proper" beer - purely because it was dark and obviously not lager (which I assumed was full of chemicals - whatever that meant). I recall my dad talking about the days when pints were pumped out the barrel on air pressure but I had no personal experience of such contraptions and proceeded along my merry Tartan Special way. I remember a couple of university flatmates talking about a Dundee pub that sold cask conditioned ales, although I had no real idea of what that might entail. I did find myself in said establishment one night but was there for the music and while I may well have selected a beer from the long-handled pumps (like the ones used in the Queen Vic on TV), it did not propel me along the road to Damascus. The time simply wasn't right. How many 20-year-old blokes actually seek out quality ale? At that age you're too busy having a good time at a stage of life when you probably don't have many responsibilities. Too often CAMRA members worry about not enticing enough young people into the world of cask. I say chill man. Today's trendy 22-year-old trendy premium lager drinker is tomorrow's potential 40-something real-ale aficionado. It's the natural order of things, helpfully buoyed by the fact many youngsters now actually do drink carefully-brewed beers under the "craft" banner. Confused? You certainly ought to be. Digression over.
It was a pleasant day for a stroll around the market. We always seem to end up spending more money than planned at these events but it's all in support of local artisan traders. I had a chat with the bloke at the beer stall and picked up a couple of bottles of 80 shilling, plus a lager and an IPA. They were offering any four ales in a box for £12 and the product was gleefully stashed in the car boot - awaiting future consumption. Lockdown has apparently been kind to small brewers as the local public have supported them and made use of flexible home delivery services. Every cloud and all that. We were parked just outside the modern all-seater home of East Fife FC and I couldn't help reminiscing about their old-style terraced ground in the middle of Methil. I saw some ding-dong battles there with the crowd almost within touching distance of the players. Things had to change but a bit of atmosphere was lost along the way. We then headed for the ancient village of Ceres, near Cupar, planning to have a look at Fleecefaulds Meadow en route. We had to take a couple of minor roads and I knew the meadow was the type of place the Wildlife Trust don't widely publicise (I only found out about it via their members magazine). I had anticipated the exact location might be hard to pinpoint and we did indeed drive past without noticing the entrance. No matter - we stopped at Craighall Den just before Ceres and went for a wander through the woodland. The highlight was an old limekiln dating from 1814 - an increasingly rare example of a substantial intact rectangular-plan single pot kiln with four draw arches. Ok, I just looked that last bit up on the Listed Buildings Register but I also learned the reason why limekilns were often built into the side of a hill. It was to facilitate easy access to the top of the furnace for delivery of raw materials. Who says walking isn't an educational pastime?
It would have been silly not to drive into Ceres itself as the village is a real hidden gem within the Kingdom of Fife. It boasts the world's oldest continuous Highland Games tournament - said to have been staged every year since Robert the Bruce gave royal assent to honour the participation of local men in the Battle of Bannockburn (1314). If this unbroken run actually is genuine, one can only hope that Corona did not puncture that almighty bubble. Surely a gaggle of hairy dudes tossed a few cabers around this year, even if no audience was permitted. On our first trip to Ceres a couple of years ago, we visited the excellent Fife Folk Museum. We immersed ourselves in the exhibition which is housed in several old cottages. Definitely worth seeking out if you are interested in seeing how working people lived in days gone by. The adjoining tearoom is a wonderful place to relax before or after your visit. A bonus for birdwatchers is the frequent sighting of a dipper in the stream that runs past the museum entrance. A stone humpback bridge makes an excellent viewpoint to watch our only aquatic songbird whizz up and down its territory. We have stopped by several times just for a quick spot of twitching. In fact, one such occasion formed the basis for writing my first ever blog post! The Fife Pilgrim Way passes through the village - a 64-mile walking trail that winds an inland course through the county. Initial legs from Culross and North Queensferry converge upon Dunfermline Abbey and from there a single route is bound for St Andrews. The path opened in 2019 and approximates the passage of Pilgrims who crossed the Firth of Forth on their holy journey. I still haven't got round to tackling the trail sequentially but have previously walked a few of the sections welded together to form this exciting new pathway through Fife (it does briefly stray into Kinross-Shire!) - the perfect counterpart of our esteemed coastal path.
Ceres is an affluent settlement but the Pilgrim Way was deliberately threaded through other areas less fortunate in an economic sense. Walkers do bring cash to local businesses and let's hope the new route brings people to parts of the Kingdom they may not have seen before, but are beautiful in their own right. The museum was closed today and we contented ourselves with a stroll up and down the burn but unfortunately the dipper also appeared to have gone into self isolation. No birdie joy, but then something else caught my eye. A large house next to the water had a sign outside the gates saying visitors were welcome to have a wander round the gardens. Might as well check it out, I thought. The property was named St John's Lodge and we quickly found the labyrinth on the front lawn among the many trees and shrubs. Apparently a labyrinth differs from a maze in that it has no dead ends, you simply keep walking and come out the other end. We bumped into a lady tending the plants. She and her husband were the owners and they both made us very welcome. We got a guided tour of the upper terrace which was once the kitchen garden and still liberally stocked with vegetable plots and fruit trees. Down below were the mysterious arched vaults whose origins have never been fully ascertained. We asked about the location of Fleecefaulds Meadow and it transpired we had indeed driven straight past it. This garden visit however was proving to be more than ample compensation. I found an PDF online which supplied more information regarding the history of the lodge and its substantial grounds. Over to the author of this document.
The building's restoration was the first major project of the Central and North Fife Preservation Society. The lodge forms part of the Ceres conservation area, which stretches from here to Meldrum's Hotel, taking in the main part of the village and several other buildings of special historic interest. Formerly the home of the Masonic Lodge of Ceres St John's, the place had fallen into a sad state of disrepair and by the 1960s was in use partly as a hen house but otherwise uninhabitable. In 1964, restoration work was carried out during which a stone bearing the date 1724 was apparently unearthed. Despite this find, the house is thought to be of later origin, probably around 1765. Funds for the project were provided by the National Trust for Scotland and the Historic Buildings Council. After a short period on public display, the property was sold as a private dwelling. Here we stood, talking with the present owner occupiers who had moved up from England. The man was a retired professor of philosophy and had taught at Dundee University. The lady picked up on Nicole's accent and revealed her own mother was from Berlin. It's extraordinary how often that sort of thing happens. Before we departed on our merry way, I wanted to have a quick scout around the vaults. The owners had tried - in vain - to find a concrete explanation of their purpose. A series of arches cut into the stone led to dark chambers, now mainly used for the storage of gardening equipment. I couldn't help thinking that I would probably have some home brew on the go here! Perhaps I could glean further information from the village trail document.
Standing at St John's Lodge, a glimpse can be seen of the arcaded vaults within the grounds. They may have been practically engaged as storage for an orchard which occupied the site, but their proximity to the Masonic Lodge also suggests they were the work of apprentice stonecutters. So there you have it, a sort of training project for budding stone masons. It's as good a theory as any! I love these days when your exploring takes an unexpected turn and something is revealed of which you had no prior knowledge. On returning to the coast road, we spotted the small sign for Fleecefaulds Meadow. It only appeared to be displayed on one side of the road (which gave me a ready-made excuse for my previous oversight) and that's probably because entry from the Ceres-bound direction would require a jack-knife turn. Time was pressing on and I kept on driving. We had already seen more vegetation than we bargained for and I felt it best to leave the meadow undisturbed. Besides, I had beer to sample!
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