Wednesday, June 2, 1999

So the Simon & Garfunkel song goes and here I am, sat on platform 8 of Huddersfield railway station, waiting for the 11.21 trans-Pennine shuttle that will take me on the first leg of my journey to Scotland.

The sky is grey and there is a steady drizzle - a good start to my journey! Got my cigarettes, got my tubes of beer and I've got some sandwiches so I am well prepared.

One or two other trains are arriving and departing to the doleful sound of the station announcer. All in all railway stations are miserable places at the best of times. With the tearful good-byes and the impatient waiting, one rarely sees a smile. Even joyful reunions are reserved for the station forecourt.

At last the diesel powered train arrives. All aboard for the happy time express, next stop York.

The train originated from Manchester Airport and will terminate at Newcastle. It's very full so there is standing room only. Plenty of brown faces and suitcases but, once again, a dearth of smiling faces. And away we go - next stop Dewsbury, a sleepy industrial town.

Whilst standing in the overcrowded carriage my mind wanders back to my childhood which coincided with the golden age of steam powered locomotives.
As a very young boy I used to stand on the platforms in awe as the smoke-belching monsters arrived at the station, exhaling clouds of steam as if puffing after a long run. I was raised near the railways and developed a love for the sights, sounds and smells of the old steam engines. Sadly those days are long gone, it is the age of diesel or electric and the magic has been lost.

On to Leeds, a city that I used to visit frequently in my teens. Indeed I briefly rented a flat here (above a strip club would you believe!) and had a close friend who lived nearby. Sadly we drifted apart over the years.

Back to the journey. A few people have disembarked but I'm still standing but at least I can scratch my nose without having to ask my neighbour to lift his arm too!

On to the ancient, walled city of York, Eboracum in Roman times. This is where I have to catch my connection to Dundee so I disembark and wait for the 10 minutes before the Inter-City 125, London to Aberdeen express pulls into the station. I am looking forward to this part of the journey, provided there is room to sit in the smoking carriage.

It is 12.26 and the train arrives on time so I join the mad rush to board - throwing women and children to one side as I attempt to secure a comfortable seat.
As it turns out I could have taken my time as the carriage is almost empty.
Then I find out why! There's a black guy sat there who obviously does not believe that personal hygiene is as important as the rest of us do and the pervading stench of body odour makes the atmosphere decidedly unpleasant.
Dilemma - do I stay in the carriage or do I find a seat in the non-smoking carriages? No contest, I am a slave to the weed so I take a seat and try not to breathe in through my nose.

Perhaps I could get him arrested for the rape of my nasal membranes? Still if I chain smoke I'm sure I can keep the smell at bay.....

The train leaves the station and we are on the East Coast line heading for Scotland, next stop Newcastle. Through the plains of the Vale of York with it's fertile fields and lush greenery.The predominant crop is wheat but there has been an invasion of a new cereal over the last few years. I can tell which fields have been given over to this new crop, rape ( grown for the vegetable oil it produces), as they produce bright yellow flowers in the late spring/early summer. There are occasional fields of vegetables and ones lying fallow but it's mainly wheat and rape.There is also livestock in some fields, mainly sheep with their lambs.

It is still overcast but the rain has stopped. Far in the distance I can make out the image of a white horse carved out of a hillside.
There are a number of these giant images scattered around England, some animals and some men.
The one of a man at Cerne Abbas in Dorset is said to aid fertility and it has been known for desperate couples to make love on it's oversize manhood in order for the woman to conceive!

We have just passed through the red brick town of Darlington, the gateway to the North east of England - on to Gateshead. On the outskirts of Gateshead there is a massive sculpture called the Angel of the North. It has been fashioned out of steel and stands 100 feet high and is clearly visible from the train.

A few minutes later and we pull to a stop in Newcastle station.It's many a time I've gazed upon the famous bridge which spans the Tyne in central Newcastle. Not because I have visited the city very often but because Scottish and Newcastle Breweries use its image on the label of my favourite tipple, Newcastle Brown Ale!

Speaking of ale I'm now on tube 3 and decidedly mellow. The station masters whistle blows and away we go again - next stop Edinburgh, Scotland.

Over river and under hill we race at 100 miles per hour plus. I catch brief glimpses of small towns and villages whose names flash past. Penrith, Alnwick and Grange-Over-Sands as we hit the coastal part of the journey.
Unfortunately the scenery is somewhat limited by a sea fret.
I gaze at the rocky shore and wonder how long it will be before erosion takes its toll and the railway engineers have to start a massive reclamation project to stop the lines from being washed away.

Onto the picturesque town of Berwick, a seaside town which spans the mouth of the River Tweed. One of these days I will drive up to Scotland and call in at al of these places I have mentioned.

In the past, whenever I have taken the car, I have always driven up inland route. The A68 is my favourite because it take me over switchbacks and through the Lammermuir Hills with the magnificent view at the English/Scottish border.
But if one follows the A1 it takes you along the East coast of England and through the towns that I have mentioned.

We have crossed the border while I have been musing so its och aye the noo! We follow the coast round and find ourselves on the south coast of the Firth of Forth.

Far across the Firth, on the north shore, I can make out the landmarks of my ultimate destination, Leven.
But I am a long way off arriving there so it's on with the journey and the next stop, Edinburgh's Waverley station.

Whilst we are stood at the platform I can just see some of the architecture that makes Edinburgh such a wonderful city in my eyes.
Granite stone building some 4 or 5 storeys high, clinging to the hillsides.

After 5 minutes the train makes the brief journey to Edinburgh's Haymarket Station. The architecture around Haymarket is more modern and predominately office space.
The stop here is brief and as we pull out of the station we pass Scotlands National Rugby Union Football stadium, Murrayfield. Very impressive it is too!

Thereafter it is a short journey to the Forth Rail Bridge which straddles the water alongside the more modern road bridge and offers a unique view on all sides.
This is our crossing point from the Lothian region into Fife.

Stops become more frequent now. Inverkeithing, Kirkaldy then Leuchars where there is a Royal Air Force base.
No activity at the moment, a rare occurrence at this busy airfield.
To travel to St Andrews on has to disembark at Leuchars.

Finally we arrive at my destination, Dundee - the City of Discovery.

I dive into the nearest bar, order a pint of beer and then telephone my friend Bill (see About Us ) to tell him that I have arrived.
We arrange to meet at the Mercantile Bar at 7 o'clock so I grab some food and drink in my surroundings.
I seem to have overdone it with the drinking by the time Bill has arrived and we have renewed our friendship so it's a taxi back to where I am stopping the night and sleep.

My accommodation is at the flat of Bill's sister, Ann, on the 12th floor of a block of flats on the outskirts of Dundee.
The suburb, Lochee, is where Bill stays during the week whilst he is working as the manager of a local charity shop.
Tomorrow it's down to Bill's place at Leven.

I regain consciousness at 9.00 am the next morning and, after a couple of cups of coffee, head on down to the city centre with the aim of catching the X60 express bus to Leven.
Bill has a day off work so he decides to accompany me.

Outside the Caird Hall the mobile Army Recruitment caravan has appeared.
Strange but it always seems to appear whenever I visit Dundee - perhaps they are trying to tell me something?

Dundee city centre is full of architectural delights and the city fathers have seen fit to pedestrianize many of the roads so one can take in the views without fear of being run down.

My favourite building is the one that houses an estate agents, not because of the way it is built but because one of the partners is called Blackadder. I kid you not!

A new shopping centre is currently being built next to St Michaels Church and I hope that it has been designed to fit in with the surroundings.

On to the bus station and it is time to board the bus.
As we set off we immediately cross the Tay Road Bridge (for further details of this and Dundee itself follow this link).
Not as spectacular as the Forth crossing the Tay road and rail bridges still make an impressive sight.

As I looks back towards Dundee I can see the floodlights belonging to the city's two football clubs, Dundee and Dundee United.
It is a particular curiosity of the city that the two clubs are on the same road, a stones throw away from each other.

The bus travels along the narrow, winding roads of the East Neuk (corner) of Fife and we stop at a number of towns and villages during our trip to Leven. Leuchars first and then St Andrews, the home of golf (for further details of St Andrews follow the link).

Once again the magnificent scenery is obscured by the mist and rain so I concentrate on writing this journal and catching a few zzzzzzzzz's.
As I open my eyes again I see that we are travelling down the sweeping hillside towards Leven with it's power station chimney plain for all to see.
I always think that it is a shame that somebody allowed Scottish Power to build such an ugly edifice at on end of Levens sandy beach.
The ugly, grey square building with it's 200 ft chimney stack dominates the Western skyline, ruining an otherwise idyllic vista.

After disembarkation at the bus station we walk up the main street of the town, making our way through the crowds towards Bill's flat.
This is all familiar territory to me now as I've been here so many times before.

We purchase a sandwich along the way and arrive at the flat in time to consume our lunch whilst resting from the journey.
After our siesta we decide to take a walk along the sea front.
The tide is in and people are sat in their parked cars gazing out across the Firth of Forth, watching the seagulls wheeling in the sky and the small ships plying there trade on the water.

Bill and I catch up on each others news and discuss the progress of our Web site.
It is agreed that thing are as they should be and that natural development should take its course.

A circular route around the promenade and we find ourselves back at the flat.
An in-depth read of the newspapers and then it's out for a couple of beers.

The town centre is now deserted - it's almost like a ghost town!
Weird how only a few hours ago the streets were full of hustle and bustle.
Refreshment is obtained and in due course we pick up a Chinese take-away and, once more, return to the flat.

It's music time now - on with the stereo, chow down and then sing along to some familiar favourites.
I once made a video of the two of us sat in the very same place, Bill jamming on the guitar and me singing the words.
I eventually erased it out of embarrassment!

The night draws to a close and it's bed time.
In the morning Bill will be up early and off to work in Dundee so I will have the place to myself.

So it's Friday morning and I have the day to myself.
I take the opportunity to walk along the beach, looking around and scavenging amongst the rocks and pebbles.
I end up with a variety of small stones. I stop and sit on a bench and spend a couple of hours taking in the sights and delving into my own mind.

Along the shore, to the East, the bay curves round and I can make out the village of Lower Largo (click the link for details and pictures), the birthplace of Alexander Selkirk (a.k.a. Robinson Crusoe).
The view is quite charming but my attention is grabbed by the sounds that surround me.
The call of the gulls and the sound of the waves breaking on the beach act as an aid to reflective contemplation.

I love the sound of water, be it waves on a beach, a gurgling stream or rain on a window pane - I find it so relaxing.
No doubt someone will link it to my time in the womb but, for now, I have arrived in my own personal Nirvana.
Serenity...................

Snapping back to reality again I continue with my walk.
I can see people walking their dogs further along the beach and some men digging for worms before the tide comes back in.
Amongst the pebbles and rocks I notice the intrusion of man-made detritus, mainly plastic and rubber.
There is even a complete car tire embedded in the sand.
It is a shame that the natural beauty has to be spoiled by the carelessness of humanity.

As I look around and observe all the people, animals and birds I, once again, ponder over the insignificance of our existence on this planet - and indeed the temporary state of the planets themselves.
Many, many years from now, when we have long ceased to exist, the same sea will still be breaking on the same beach( taking erosion into account) and the same hills will still dominate the skyline.
And in the greater scheme of things even this will only be temporary as this planet is erased from the cosmos when the sun goes supernova.
But I am right here and right now so I continue walking and head back to the flat for a spot of lunch and a bath.

In due course I make my way to the bus station and catch the express back to Dundee to rejoin my friend.
After dining at the lodging in Lochee it's back on the town for my last night in Scotland.

The less said about the evenings entertainment the better but we ended up at a bar in Lochee which can best be described as the centre of attraction for the local alcoholics and villains.
There was a karaoke session in full swing, the quality of vocalist being on a par with the local tom cat on heat!
However, by this time the demon drink had taken it's toll and I found myself looking for a song to sing.
Luckily the session wrapped up before I found a suitable tune so I managed to avoid getting locked up for murdering the music.
Time for bed folks, it's an early start for me in the morning.

And so for the return journey back to Huddersfield.
I manage to consume several cups of coffee at the railway station before the train arrives.
I also notice that there has been a recent fire and a lot of the station is cordoned off.

The journey down to York is uneventful although I am sat like a papoose - with my back to injun.
So I am watching the world slip away rather than anticipating what is to come.
At least the atmosphere is a lot better this time.

I catch my connection at York and one hour later find myself at Huddersfield station, surrounded by my family and ready for forty winks when we get home.

In retrospect I thoroughly enjoyed my trip up North and am satisfied with the material that I have gathered for the Web site.

If you ever get the chance you should visit the East Neuk of Fife coast, find yourself a seat on the sea front and muse over the intricacies of life - Groovy Baby!