Pittenweem

Half an hour's walk along the coastal path and I arrive in the old fishing village of Pittenweem, named after its Pictish description, " place (Pit) by the cave (Nweem)," the cave being St Fillans cave which dates from the 7th century and was used by him as a place of worship.

Here, in Pittenweem, are more whitewashed cottages with red pantiled roofs, which crowd into the small winding streets which lead to a secluded harbour.
There is still a fish market here most weekdays.

The place is swimming with seagulls.
What a racket!
Watch out for the little white gifts from above. Splat! - I'm off pronto.

Across the water is the Isle of May which used to be a monastery but is now a seabird sanctuary.
In the early summer the sea cliffs are covered with shinola.
Kittiwakes, Razorbills, Guillemots and, if you're really lucky, you may find yourself a shag.
Fingers crossed eh.

Back on the top deck, next stop Anstruther three miles up the road.

When I was eleven I had to travel three or four miles on the school bus each way.
For some strange reason most of the swotty, good-looking, brainy kids travelled downstairs while the future misfits, hooligans and psychopaths travelled upstairs.
If there wasn't enough room downstairs I went upstairs, I had no choice.

Occasionally it was good fun, especially going under bridges, we all used to hit the deck screaming, shouting and laughing like idiots until we were safely through.
Some kids did exactly the same thing going OVER bridges!

Snaking its way through the ancient village of Anstruther, the bus eventually arrives at the famous harbour - the town centre. See you at the ship.