The top of the Kingdom of Fife lies just across the Firth of Tay from the City of Dundee. Ferries plied their trade across the water for centuries and finally ceased when the Tay Road Bridge opened in 1966. The railway crossing infamously collapsed in 1879 after just a year and a half of service. The far more substantial bridge that carries trains today dates from 1887. After a brief stop at Letham Pools to view the bird life, our first port of call however was a place with a history stretching way back beyond Victorian times.
Balmerino is a tiny village on the shore of the Tay and is home to a Cistercian abbey of the same name. Established in 1229 by Queen Ermengarde - widow of William the First of Scotland - Balmerino Abbey fell into decline during the 16th century and a programme of repair and consolidation was launched in 1910 to safeguard the ruins. Several centuries of stone plundering rendered the main building entirely absent and only parts of the cloisters and other outbuildings are visible today. Now in the care of the National Trust for Scotland, the grounds have a donation box and you can visit at any time. We came here a few years ago to try out the newly-purchased bridge cameras we still use. An extremely gnarled Spanish chestnut tree stands on the site and is reckoned to be around 450 years old. In actual fact, we weren't planning to enter the abbey grounds today but we parked outside before picking up Monk's Road - a local walking trail around one mile in length. Unfortunately the going was boggy and Nicole was wearing sandals. We therefore decided to abandon the walk and jump back in the car. In the village we noted a recently abandoned property with butterflies sadly trapped behind a firmly closed window. I suggested a drive along the the nearby town of Wormit, where we could walk around the bay and view the memorial to those who perished in the Tay Bridge disaster. En route we passed through the hamlet of Bottomcraig which features one of the cosiest bus shelters in Scotland. My sister Linda and I came across the neatly furnished hut one evening after completing a stage of the Fife Coastal Path. We sat inside as we awaited a ride back to Wormit. Today we drove down to the shore, passing underneath the Tay Bridge that dominates the local skyline. The 8-feet tall granite memorial stones are inscribed with the names and ages of the 59 known victims and Nicole remarked upon how young most of the travellers were. The tribute was erected in 2013 and an identical installation can be found on the opposite bank. I found it quite surprising that such a major incident wasn't officially commemorated until well over a century later. The tragedy occurred during a violent storm on the 28th December, 1879. The middle section of the bridge collapsed as a train was making its way across and all passengers and crew were killed. Chief engineer Sir Thomas Bouch died a broken man less than a year later at the age of 58.
The new crossing was built to substantially robust specifications and this school of thought also pervaded the construction of the Forth Bridge on the southern flank of the Kingdom during the same decade. Bouch was initially in line to oversee this project but was moved aside following the Tay collapse. Eerily, the stumps of the original bridge piers can easily be identified if you look downwards while crossing the river today. Astonishingly, Wormit witnessed another railway tragedy - one that is little known today. In 1955, an excursion train carrying in excess of 500 passengers - mainly children - entered Wormit tunnel at a speed way above the permitted limit. The sharp curvature forced a derailment inside the tunnel and upon emerging into Wormit Station, the carriages overturned. Three people were killed, two of whom were apparently riding on the footplate contrary to regulations. Amazing photos of people escaping from the melee were obtained by professional photographer Grant Balfour who - by sheer chance - was in the process of capturing action shots of a tennis tournament being held on a court adjacent to the railway. Upon hearing the cacophony of the crash, he lugged his equipment over to a bridge above the line and snapped the scenes of people clambering out of the stricken coaches. The driver was later arrested on suspicion of intoxication. The railway through Wormit was closed in 1969 but the tunnel still exists. One portal is situated in a restaurant car park and the other emerges in a private garden on a new housing estate. Hmm, I wonder which property I would have gravitated towards if on a viewing mission. Still, I did not to badly with occasional steam services using the old Longannet Power Station line that passes close to my current home. I can catch a glimpse from the window in the spare room. It was time to head along to the bustling town of Newport-on-Tay for a bite to eat.
Now a commuter base for Dundee, Newport was once home to the city jute barons who sought a quiet life away from the factories in the grand Victorian villas that overlook the Tay. The town boasted two railway stations - East & West - on a line that hooked up with the Tay Bridge at Wormit. Although ferries had been shuttling across for close on a thousand years, a modern steamboat terminal was established in the centre of town in 1823. Thus Newport owed almost its entire existence to the industrial powerhouse just over the water. Nowadays, the close proximity of the Tay Road Bridge - a sloping carriageway on concrete stilts - means Dundee can rapidly be reached by car or bus. The Fife Coastal Path runs right through the town and the ferry terminal building is now incorporated into a boatyard. The Silvery Tay chipper is a favourite haunt of mine whenever I'm around these parts but today we found a nice coffee shop for lunch. Manna Café is owned by the local church and profits from the business go towards helping fund a full-time Christian youth worker who deals with young people of all faiths or none. Much of the produce on offer is endorsed by Fair Trade and there is also a nice craft corner showcasing the work of local artists. I bought a Mothers Day card - something a bit different from the usual selection at Asda. We enjoyed a lovely plate of soup and upon exiting, discovered the Newport Bakery right next door! This artisan outlet has a mouth-watering array of cakes, pastries and biscuits on offer. No doubt the bread isn't bad either, but my eyes were superglued to the sweet stuff. I plumped for a sticky fig cake and we drove along the coast to Tayport, parked by the harbour and got stuck into our goodies. On the way, we passed an ornamental fountain on the edge of Newport and I made a mental note to stop for a look on the return journey. Tayport was formerly known as Ferryport on Craig (also the name of the wider parish) and the town name was simplified after the coming of the railway to the north in 1848. Before the construction of the Tay Bridge, trains ran from Leuchars to Tayport, where a boat service conveyed passengers to Broughty Ferry in Angus and from there the railway continued up the coast. This arrangement ceased when the Tay Bridge opened and northbound trains followed the present alignment from Leuchars. Tayport however still had local services to Dundee until 1966, when the road bridge cut across the line. Three years later, the entire route along the northern fringe of Fife bit the dust.
We had a little walk around Tayport Harbour, now well populated with pleasure craft. On the way back to Newport, we paused to inspect the impressive fountain by the roadside. Now a B-listed structure, the fountain was donated to the town in 1882 by local resident Blyth Martin - a member of a prominent Dundee jute family - with the intention of providing clean drinking water to the citizens. Seated on a two-tiered octagonal plinth, the canopy is supported by eight columns of griffin terminals positioned over capitals with foliage frieze sitting on square bases. Four elaborate consoles support drinking cups on chains. A complete restoration was undertaken in 2012 and the fountain now provides a contemplative spot with superb views across the Tay. Sadly the refit did not include turning the water on. I wonder if health & safety regulations have an influence here. I'd love to see the list of people who died after patronising a drinking fountain! We had visited several coastal locations but I still had one destination to tick off the list. For many years I had known the legendary motor racing champion Jim Clark was a native Fifer. He was born in the small village of Kilmany, just off the modern A92, but grew up on a farm in rural Berwickshire. Clark won the Formula One word title in 1963 and 1965 as well as 25 individual Grand Prix events. He also achieved a third place in the legendary Le Mans 24-hour race and took the honours stateside in the 1965 Indianapolis 500. Clearly a versatile driver and apparently a very unassuming man from a humble background who wasn't your typical champagne-quaffing racing driver who had grown up surrounded by wealth and privilege. In an era when top competitors put their lives on the line every time they raced, Jim Clark died in 1968 while competing in a Formula Two event in Hockenheim, Germany. It wasn't unusual back then for famous faces to appear in the lower grades and there was a 4-month gap to fill between the first two F1 races of that season. Clark had already secured victory in the opening fixture and was still at the top of his game. The fatal crash occurred in a forested section of the circuit and no other vehicle was involved. The cause was never ascertained. I do recall close friend and fellow world champion Jackie Stewart (also a Scotsman) talking about the incident on a documentary many years later. He maintained that "Jimmy was too good to go like that" - indeed many of Clark's contemporaries insisted that driver error could not have been a factor. But who knows. The answer lies deep within the woods that now envelop the section of track where Clark lost his life (the track layout having changed over the years).
Certainly, Jim Clark's name ought to be better known today outside of the generation that remembers the crash. I pulled into Kilmany and immediately noticed the memorial statue. I assume it's life size. Racing drivers are often small of frame and I towered over Jim. I like the quiet reflective pose that suggested a sheep farmer running an eye over his flock while in the background there is this whole other - and utterly different - lifestyle. I confess upon first sighting I thought well ok, but is that it? Upon reflection, the artwork makes perfect sense. I had been meaning to view the statue for ages but had simply never got round to it. I was glad I'd finally come to pay my respects. Safety standards on the F1 circuit have improve vastly over the years and driver fatalities are now mercifully rare. In some ways, Jim Clark is a forgotten Fifer. I can handle that but he should never be allowed to fade away as a Scotsman. There you have it. Another day packed full of historical discoveries. We live on this enormous planet and it's fascinating to explore far and wide but you can find stories that resonate across the globe by simply venturing an hour from your front door.
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