Work has taken me back to southern California this month, and after a week of travel starting in Pasadena, heading out to Riverside and then finally down to Santa Ana, I was able to settle into one place for the rest of my time here. And so lucky I am, that the place is Orange County!
On Valentine’s Day – not because it was, but because it was a lovely day and my most likely day of rest during this trip – I decided to explore a new part of the coast. Recent rainfall meant that I could not hike in the hills as I hoped and so I did some investigation and eventually decide upon a parking spot along the coast, ten or so minutes from Laguna Beach, which I had so enjoyed visiting last year.
Fortunately the drive was only about 20 minutes, and so I got going relatively early in the day and was happy to find that there were plenty of spots available. The parking is run by the state, and so was even more pricey than my visit to Laguna Beach – $15, though this was for a day pass. The pay system is a very simple QR code scan and pay – much better than the cash boxes I’ve seen elsewhere (*cough* New England).
And, after all, this is Orange County.
My first dilemma, after payment, was which way to go. My breath had been stolen while I drove by the day before by the stunning Abalone Point, but I was really curious to explore the area that was called ‘Historic’ Crystal Cove, which popped up top of my Google for short walks in Orange County. So, after a touch of meandering, I found myself at the top of the cliffs with a long flight of steps before me, leading down to the beach. The view behind me was hazy as it looked directly into the sun, but ahead of me was the stunning blue water and sky I had come to expect from this area.
I imagine that we were at about mid-tide, perhaps on the high side, but there was plenty of firm wet sand to walk on, and the waves were constant but not too threatening. As always, I struggled against the urge to just sit and record the crashing surf, the stunning colours and shapes, the dramatic splash when a bigger wave hit the rocks.
I did pause briefly when I met a few very brave sea birds, who were so unbothered by me that I could get quite close.
Like in parts of Fife, the sandy beach was broken in places by impressive rock formations, slicing upwards.
The towering cliffs above the beach were dotted with green but also showed layers of rock and sand – a geologist’s dream, I am sure. As I approached the Crystal Cove area, there was a larger formation of rocks where a few fishermen had parked themselves, accompanied by always-bold gulls. The sun had finally risen far enough that a picture back the way I had come was a touch clearer.
I did not really know what to expect of Crystal Cove, and as I approached it reminded me both of a Caribbean pirate’s lair and a coastal village on Cape Cod. The more I explored, the more the houses reminded me of lakeside ‘cottages’ built on Lake Sunapee in New Hampshire: thin wood, no insulation, designed as a shelter in warm and comfortable weather. Upon reading more, I learned that the Crystal Cove Historic District is a federally listed gathering of 46 vintage coastal cottages built in the 1930s and 40s. One of the last remaining examples of early 20th century coastal development, it has been preserved and the cottages transformed into rental properties. They are nestled around Los Trancos Creek, which is what made me think of the pirate hideout – aren’t there always creeks emptying into the ocean in a lair?
There is a boardwalk in front of the line of houses, so I walked all the way to the end and then back again, enjoying the haphazard, ramshackle nature of some of the cottages. Most were neat, simple constructions with plenty of window and balcony space, but one or two looked like a child had constructed them out of blocks – dormers, gables, windows, extra rooms tacked on in random places. These were, of course, my favourite (in particular the mint green one visible in the collage below).
I walked past the Beachcomber restaurant, which seemed to be very busy, and found a clean public restroom just over the pedestrian bridge. From here, my route took me up a flight of steps back to the top of the cliff, where I could look down over the cove and out to sea.
As I moved away from the cluster of houses and past the very busy Shake Shack (this is when I recalled that it was Valentine’s Day, as they had all sorts of offers on), I realised that the cliff-top walk was not entirely dissimilar to parts of the Fife Coastal Path. The trail was paved and well-used by joggers and walkers, and the scrub-like flora dropped abruptly away to a view of the open sea.
really, this could almost be Fife
In time I reached the edge of the parking lot, but I really wanted to explore the other direction so I pushed on, passing the useful map you can see at the start of this post. There was also another clean restroom and a spot to fill up your water bottle.
Beyond this hut was another car park, but finally at the end I reached a branch in the path. One direction led to a viewpoint over Muddy Canyon, where there were several benches to enjoy the view.
The other direction led to this winding downward ramp – quite steep and a bit slippery with sand. This portion of the path hugs the edge of the canyon, which has been sliced into the cliff by a creek down below. I began to question whether this was a good idea – I really did not want to climb back up the ramp. But, when I reached the bottom, I was greeted by a beautiful fresh breeze, a touch cool and the type that refreshes and rejuvenates. Perhaps it is my childhood by the sea, but I find few things smell better than this type of breeze, pinching your nostrils with a touch of salt.
Immediately to my left was a pond where the creek backed up a bit before emptying into the ocean. Fortunately, the outflow was narrow enough at one spot to leap over, and I managed to do so without falling or injuring myself. The seagulls were watching closely.
On the far side of the creek, the beach stretches out towards a headland, which is the edge of the town of Laguna Beach (I think). This part of the coast was quieter, so I walked along for a while, enjoying the dramatic cliffs and the wind. I considered a few times how far I wanted to walk, and realised in the end that I was setting myself up for a good long hike if I kept going. So, I turned around and leapt over the creek again. It then occurred to me that I did not need to go back up the ramp – my car was quite a bit further along and there was a set of steps between it and me. So, I stayed down on the beach for a bit longer before finding myself at the bottom of the stairs I had descended at the start of my walk.
They were a touch more daunting looking up than down. That said, they were mostly quite shallow so not too strenuous, and they switched back a few times, allowing for a pause and quick look at the view while I caught my breath.
Once back at the top-of-cliff level, I found it to be a relatively short walk back to the car – about five minutes. Along the way I was able to capture a picture of hills I might have been hiking in, as well as this wee ground squirrel who posed very kindly for me. Or possibly froze in fear. Either way, he stayed still for quite some time. While I was heading home, increasing numbers of other people were appearing, particularly couples clearly visiting the beach for a Valentine’s Day picnic. I certainly saw more red mylar balloons that one might expect on a coastal walk, and girls slightly awkwardly clutching bouquets while they headed toward the sand.
In all my hike ended up being about 4 miles with two relatively steep climbs to get the blood pumping a bit. As seems to be the case with much of this area, the beach was stunning and I enjoyed exploring another new spot. The weather has tracked me from Scotland now, as this was the last bright sunny day, and rain has closed in on LA. It looks like I am not likely to get a chance to try another walk on this trip. Perhaps next time!
One last side note about adventuring in this part of Orange County: if you get a chance, stop in at a Pavilions supermarket. The fruit is phenomenal, the packaged salads and breads are delicious and in all it probably comes in around the same cost as a Whole Foods. A really pleasant shopping experience. I am a big fan.
For whatever reason, this past Saturday morning sleep was not my friend and I woke early – the same time I do for work, which is early for a weekend – and got myself going to aim for a bus an hour earlier than I had intended. And good thing I did, as this stretch of the Coastal Path took me longer than expected, even with a few stops to test out my new camera. Yes, that is one exciting development this week: I finally managed to order and have delivered the fancy new camera that was a – cough – Christmas present from my father. Entirely my fault that it took me this long to get it sorted, as I was waffling about what to get. I settled on a switch of brand, moving from Canon to Nikon. I still need to spend some time working it out, but I’ll get there. And I digress. (still…new toy!)
Crail is a bit more limited than Anstruther in terms of public transport, but the 95 is always a good option and I got my favourite seat upstairs at the front. Also on the bus were a group of young caddies, probably about 21, who were on their way to Kingsbarns and discussing their job and how much they would make after a day of work. Blew my mind – I can definitely see the appeal! A lot of hard work to get there, I know, but still paid incredibly well especially for someone on a summer break from university.
I arrived in Crail at 9am on the dot, alighting just before the roundabout where St Andrews Road turns into the High Street. It was a short walk of less than 5 minutes down Castle Street, then a slight veer to the left around the castle wall, to the spot where I had officially ended the walk to Crail from Anstruther a few weeks back.
The oath is clearly marked here, along the Nethergate heading north-east. This street is just an endless line of beautiful houses and well-kept gardens, which are really all-pervasive in Crail. Even the edge of town where the houses are ‘newer’ is a lovely winding neighbourhood with beautiful gardens. That said, the constant shrieking of the gulls (expected, still annoying) made me wonder if I really coveted one of these cottages.
In about a third of a mile, the Nethergate ends at a stone wall and large grassy area, and the path takes a steep turn town towards the beach; ahead is a line of Victorian-era houses with beautiful gardens (notice a pattern?), and the open sea beyond.
There are two paths here, one a straight shot down a steep hill along a wall, and one off to the left which is a touch more gradual. This is the official path, I think, though I chose the other way. Going along the wall eventually takes you past this late medieval doocot, which is still open (though I did not go in) and which includes a detailed explanation of what a doocot is. This one, built around 1550, housed pigeons until the mid-19th century, and is of a quite traditional round ‘beehive’ design, though there are plenty – for example one at Tantallon Castle – that are rectangular.
Beyond the doocot, I turned left along the shore, where there is a playpark next to the sea. The weather was mild but breezy, with a mix of sun and clouds that was the perfect opportunity to test my camera. The beach is rocky with small patches of sand, reminding me very much of the beaches at home. I was relieved to discover that there was also a toilet block, though it was far from clean or well-kept. Those in Crail had been at the other end of town, so this seemed a good opportunity, and potentially the last one on this walk. (Though if you ask very nicely, it may be possible to use the ones at the caravan park, I’m really not sure)
At the end of the bay, there is a flight of steps leading up to what I realised was the actual Coastal Path – oops – which had run along the top of the park. Either way is fine, I’m sure! This is of course a good spot to get a few pictures back over the beach towards the town. From here it was along the path for a short while, and a relatively fast right turn through a grassy field. There are several routes here, some leading off to the left that are clearly made by walkers, and the Coastal Path is not well-marked, but stick to the main trail heading straight for the water’s edge, and you will reach a gap in the stone wall. It may not seem the right way, but it is!
Once through the stone wall, you will see signs again and the entrance to the Sauchope Links Holiday Lodge and Caravan park. There is a clear direction here, sending walkers through the caravans on the main road. While it was early morning and the park was just waking up – some lucky souls sitting on their porch drinking coffee with a splendid view over the ocean – there were some vehicles too, keeping me on my toes.
I was really impressed with the holiday park which had a small but clean-looking pool and a good number of well-kept caravans. In time the caravan park merged into the holiday lodges, including a few glamping pods (I think) and then eventually some really lovely-looking lodges. The views were excellent, but I did have some doubt as to whether I’d want to be quite that close to the water here on the outermost edge of Fife – especially with Storm Floris expected in a few days. Eventually I discovered the style of house I liked best, up on the side of the hill a bit further back, with big patios and I am sure, a great view.
After about ten minutes or so of walking – it’s a big park! – I found a sign for the Coastal Peth taking me off the main road and down a sandy track towards the beach. The path runs between the lodges and the beach, alternately sandy, grassy, and occasionally rocky. It was an odd day where I couldn’t decide if I needed sunglasses or not, and it meant that the views were alternately bright and clear or a bit murky.
In time – longer than I expected – I reached the end of the park and went through a wooden kissing gate onto a more wild path, with high grass on both sides. There is a beautiful rock structure up ahead on the right, and a sign indicating that walkers are now entering the Kilminning Nature Reserve. Here are some great views looking back, particularly if there are waves crashing on the rocky promontories between beaches.
You will note in these pictures an enormous wind farm, with turbines all along the edge of the horizon. There is a lot of controversy over this wind farm, and the recent approval for what will be Europe’s largest wind farm; some object to the visual of them, but there are also environmental concerns. Personally I don’t think the optics are really an issue, and I don’t have knowledge to comment on the impact on sea birds.
From this point, the path rounds a corner into a relatively wide flat area, with long grass on either side and a rocky trail. There was one spot that was really muddy and required negotiation on stones, but overall it is pleasant, a touch flatter than much of the East Neuk trail. In a few places, you will notice entrances to bunkers along the coast; it was of course a perfect lookout spot during World War II.
This part of the trail is quiet and it might be tempting to look up at the view, but it is also quite uneven and I have in the past rolled an ankle pretty hard here. As you go past a viewing platform and through another kissing gate, the path becomes a bit more rolling, with some ups and downs on rocky stairs that can be steep.
There are some great viewpoints, and eventually at the end of the bay you go up and down one more rise and discover a golf course on your left – this is Fife after all – and the ‘corner’ of Fife ahead. By corner, I mean the point of land that sticks out furthest in to the North Sea.
I found myself stopping here for several minutes, looking out over the crashing waves – it was a challenge really not to stay for hours, as I find them quite mesmerizing. Repetitive, yet always different.
I had a goal however and so pushed on. Right at the corner, the trail narrows slightly to pass between the Fife Ness Lighthouse above, and a bird blind and WWII pillbox, constructed in 1941 as part of the Crail airfield. Whereas you often see other evidence of WWII defenses further up the coast along West Sands and Tentsmuir, I had not noticed many or any in the East Neuk.
Once you turn the corner, you approach another small caravan park and the remains of Fife Ness harbour, first mentioned in the 1530s.
The harbour was used for fishing, as well as for shipping stone from nearby Craighead quarry – some of this fine stone was used to repair St Andrews Cathedral in the 1450s. The long lines of sharp rocks stretching into the waves make it clear why this point of Fife could be treacherous for boats; I was walking at about mid-tide, but the rocks clearly went much further under the waves.
There is also a great example of a Scottish seaside cottage, well-kept of course with a small garden. I wasn’t really sure that I was going the right way here, but there was really no other obvious route, so as before I just kept walking.
The paved road soon looked as though it would be heading directly for Crail Golf Club, but sure enough as I reached the edge of the green, the Coastal Path signs returned and I headed off to the right on a path that ran along the edge of the green.
This is a really beautiful stretch, particularly in the sun as it was when I walked, with the ocean and multitude of wild flowers. It is hard not to be fascinated by the layers of stone and the pools of water between them, glistening in the sun. There are a few signs on poster boards for adult geology classes, and it is easy to see why this would be a good spot. The layers of stone and water erosion are very evident.
From here the path hugs the edge of the golf course, at times moving up to the walkways designed for golfers, but only for a short while. I stumbled across Constantine’s Cave quite by surprise, absolutely not expecting it to be in the middle of the golf course. Interestingly, the other half and I had planned to walk to the cave some years ago, joining the trail near the airfield, but gave up due to my rolling my ankle (see above). I’m quite pleased in the end that we didn’t go the whole way, as compared to the Caiplie Caves this one is a bit less dramatic.
While visually not as impressive, the cave does have an interesting history; excavation work has shown evidence of a stone wall across the entrance, protecting the interior space, and the earliest occupation layer was pre-Roman. The cave’s name comes from the local tradition that King Constantine III of Alba (903-943) was killed in a battle near the cave.
Not far beyond, walkers are directed to move down to the beautiful sandy beach below, to avoid interfering with the golf play. I was very happy to do so, enjoying my ramble in the sand, though it was somewhat hindered by what must have been hundreds of beached Moon jellyfish along the high waterline. Eventually I chose to move closer to the waves, where I could avoid stepping on them.
The sandy beach slowly becomes rocky, and the last few metres require some scrambling to return to the upper path, along the golf course. Soon after re-joining the grassy trail, another corner is turned and all at once I could see the tree line of Cambo Estate ahead, though still a distance away. It was a touch intimidating to see the coastline between there and where I stood, including a headland that I was not sure if I would pass over or under.
I should note that the official map of the Fife Coastal Path warns walkers that this section of the trail, between Crail and St Andrews, can be challenging and may not be passable at high tide. While I had neglected to check the tide – not a mistake I will make again – I was lucky to discover it was going out rather than in, so I had plenty of time. Absolutely be more sensible than I if you try this walk, and check well in advance – there are plenty of websites and apps available.
From here to the edge of Crail Golf Course, it can be on occasion difficult to tell if you should be on the beach or not. At least once I opted for the beach route, seeing a faint trail from other hikers, as it was nice to have a bit of variety. I was so fortunate to be walking on such a gorgeous day, and at a time of year when daisies and other wild flowers are everywhere. (I do not know names – must educate myself on wild flowers). There is a series of small white posts in the grass that seems to separate the well-manicured golf course from the trail, but those are not always clear.
Eventually, after about 1.3 miles of edging along the golf course – with frequent reminders that golf is being played and you should be aware, and listen out for ‘fore’! – the course ends and there is a different kind of hazard, albeit short-term. The field of livestock was relatively calm, with one or two getting up as I passed. The white cow did keep a close eye on me, but never actually moved, just watched carefully that I would not be a problem.
At the far edge of the livestock pasture, the path leads steeply up hill – the headland I could see from a distance – then almost immediately back down again. There may have been an option to scramble along the beach here, rather than going up and down, but there was a great view at the top so worth the extra push. This may also be the only option at high tide.
Once down at beach level, the path cuts in front of a large cliff, onto the beach. There is a warning sign here to stay on the beach to avoid the fields of livestock, which are clearly open to the beach.
At first, the beach is not too difficult to manage, a combination of sandy and rocky but mostly rocky. I could see it as definitely being slippery if wet or if the tide had recently receded. As someone who grew up playing on beaches like this, I really enjoyed this section, especially with the view off to the right. The most challenging parts were soft sand and dodging the cow pats that were evidence of the open boundary between beach and meadow.
As I plodded along the beach, though, I realised that I was starting to run a bit short on time. It’s always a touch frustrating on a trip like this when your public travel options are limited, and you find yourself racing the clock. The farther I went, the rougher the terrain became, with rocks that were too small to completely stand on, but too large to step between, requiring a lot of attention and energy, slip sliding along. Progress slowed, and I was running low on energy. Finally, I caught sight of a stone wall – this was the end of the beach walk, though I was challenged in the end by a final obstacle – using a rope to haul myself up a wooden ladder to cross the wall.
It was at this point that I realised I needed to add two things to my hiking arsenal: one, a portable power bank, as my phone was beginning to run low (using it for pictures and voice notes) and I needed it for my return bus ticket. Two, an updated map of the coastal path; mine was from 2017, and it has become increasingly evident with each walk that changes have been made since then. While there is an online version, you are often out of range of data on these walks so it quickly becomes obsolete.
Carrying on past the wall, the path heads up a small hill, offering views of the livestock field on one side, and Kingsbarns Golf Course on the other. It was a busy day for golf with several large groups out, and to my amusement I identified more than a few American accents among them.
I thought that the path stayed by the coast at this point but instead it loops up above the golf course, which caused me a bit of confusion. My last efforts along the beach had driven me beyond the point of questioning, though, so I pushed on, enjoying the view over the course. It was also helpful to see the treeline of the Cambo Estate clearly ahead of me, knowing that was my goal.
The path is a touch unclear here, but I used my instinct and habit at this point to keep to the edge of the golf course – a brief turn left then almost immediately right again, between a few greens. The sun was bright and hot by this time, and up to the left I could see a few old estates including the roof of Kingsbarns Distillery.
The Coastal Path approaches the estate wall and is briefly forced around to the left, curving towards the water, before a small gap in the stone appears. There is a wooden gate and sign for the path – I was quite relieved, as I knew the end was near and I did not want to go all the way back down to the beach.
Through the gate, there is an immediate right-hand turn down some wooden stairs, and a view through the trees towards the beach, looking over the Cambo burn.
Once you go down the steps, the path sweeps towards the river, and on the other side splits into several directions. One leads down to the coast, one further along towards Kingsbarns, and one up towards the estate house and gardens. This was where I marked the end of my walk – 5.5 miles from where I started in Crail. But, I still had a way to go, walking up through the estate grounds.
Cambo is a beautiful spot to visit, with a walled garden, excellent café, and plant shop. It is possible to walk up past the walled garden, through the car park, and along a path all the way to the road – for those hoping to make a bus, this is a solid mile. I tried, I really did, but I missed by about 10 minutes, having forgotten just how far it was. Fortunately, the other half took pity upon me and collected me from the bus stop where the only alternative was a 45-minute wait.
I did consider joining the groups of families and couples enjoying their lunch in the sun, but I was hot, sweaty, and a touch bedraggled. Home was the better option. Overall I found this a really pleasant walk, and not as difficult physically as I thought, meaning that my stamina is definitely improving.
I might try it the other way were I to do it again, with the rocky beach the first thing I tackled rather than the last. But I do seem to have developed a pattern of walking counter-clockwise around the edge of Fife, and I am now reluctant to change that. Public transport is possible for this route but a bit tricky, so worth just being aware of the limited options (one bus an hour to Cambo), and of course, check the tides!
Autumn travel approaches, but I hope I will manage at least one more section of the trail before I disappear overseas.
The last month has a been a whirlwind of work – adjusting to my new job and to the travel it requires has taken a toll on me, but as October moves into November I have been able to take time to rest and review. In doing so, this post formed in my mind.
A few weeks past, in the midst of a busy work trip, I was lucky enough to find myself with a free weekend morning. Originally I had big plans for explorations of the Los Angeles area further north, but a week of traffic and driving did me in and I chose a closer option.
I was staying in Santa Ana and had visited Laguna Beach earlier in the week on a school visit; on that occasion it was swathed in thick fog, with buildings and palm trees just peeking out of the mist. There was a proper Pirates of the Caribbean vibe, with Spanish-inspired architecture a common site.
(side note, I was surprised to discover that almost every morning I was in Orange County was overcast or foggy, but apparently that was not unusual for the time of year).
I had not had time to explore during my weekday visit, and so on Sunday I hopped in the car as soon as I got up and headed south. Even the drive is breath-taking, cutting through the California hills that are as stark as parts of the Scottish Highlands, but a very different colour. I had discovered earlier in the week that several California highways pass through the mountains, making me wish beyond anything that California offered the parking spots and pull-over options that you get in the UK and the White Mountains. My GPS took me along Rt 133, which approaches Laguna Beach from the North-East, the last few miles snaking through high ridges (another option takes you along the coast, but this was less direct). There are periodic parking lots along the 133 for hikers and the myriad of trails winding up into the hills.
Making a mental note to return to one of these trails, I headed into town and found a place to park at one of the several public lots, this one covered so that the car would not overheat. It was far from free – $9 for three hours – but I was not planning a long trip and it was a special day, so I was very happy to pay.
From the parking lot off Glenneyre Street I decided first to make my way up-hill to see St Francis by the Sea, a Catholic church apparently listed in the Guinness Book of World Records as the second smallest cathedral in the world. It was a really cute wee spot, but my exploration was curtailed by the fact that I could hear the service taking place inside as I walked by, so I took a few pictures before heading back downhill.
It was a short walk down to the water, passing the local library with very entertaining benches (see below) and several shops that were not yet open though looked appealing.
I reached the beach front in less than five minutes, and it was early enough in the day that the sky was still overcast. The sun was just thinking about peeking through the clouds, with lighter patches promising where it would first defeat the gloom, but in the meantime the cooler temperature allowed several teams of energetic folk to play volleyball in the sand. There was also, to my delight, a small market with local artists and a jewellery-maker who used sea glass in her art. I could not resist picking up a pair of earrings…or two. Behind the fair, the town stretched back towards the hill, which was layered in houses that I can only imagine have spectacular views over the coastline.
The scene by the beach was classic California – a wooden board walk lining the sandy beach with crashing waves where some brave souls were swimming and surfing. A huge range of people walked and sat on benches: young and old, all races and socioeconomic status. There were homeless people with their belongings, dog walkers and people-watchers, families with young children building sandcastles and playing in the surf, a group of young men working to get a jet-ski into the water, tourists like me, and well-muscled and bronzed lifeguards keeping an eye on everyone (yes this is cliché, but evidently for a good reason). We were all kept company by a group of what I think must have been sandpipers, alternately chasing waves and running back up to the dry sand.
I made my way along the beach and up a set of steps that climbed to the top of the cliff and the California Coastal Trail. I was a touch surprised to see the tsunami evacuation route sign, but I suppose only for its novelty – it is not something we have on the East Coast!
The path follows the cliff top for miles, with viewpoints and plenty of side-entertainments in the form of statues, a war memorial, tropical flowers, gorgeous palms and cacti. There is also a spectacular bird rock covered in what looked like cormorant (though may also be brown pelican) just off the coast – the waves crashed around it but never seemed it disrupt its occupants.
At times the path was built out away from the cliff and it was always well-kept, clean and free of any kind of litter. The further I walked, the sunnier it got and the busier the path became with walkers and tourists. I passed plenty of locals out for exercise – many with pets – birdwatchers and a few photoshoots being taken of special events – a wedding and a quinceañera I think – against the spectacular backdrop. Despite being very much in an urban setting, there was plenty of wildlife – mostly avian – to enjoy, and the scent of the sea was refreshing and omnipresent.
Eventually my need for a cold – and caffeinated – drink turned me back towards the town, but not before one last walk along the beach including a small and accidental dip in the waves. Yes, I was too busy filming to notice one coming a bit closer than expected…
The sun on the waves was just too beautiful to ignore, and the view of the town was excellent.
With slightly wet feet, I walked up the pedestrian Forest Ave where there are high-quality restaurants, bistros, and shops. I stopped for a break at a Parisian-style bakery called C’est la Vie – excellent coffee and an enormous pain au chocolat that I enjoyed with my dinner that night.
After a quick stop at a local shop to top up my dinner supplies, I headed back to the car and programmed in one of the ‘staging areas’ along Rt 133 that offers parking for the hiking trails. While it was a bit challenging to turn left across the traffic, I made it there in very little time and managed to pay for parking. In a massive shift of biomes, I found myself now in a desert scrub-type area, with the trail dry dust beneath my feet and the hills rising around me a mix of brown-green and just brown rock or dirt. But, I had sunscreen, water, and determination, so despite the sun beating down mercilessly, I set off on what I promised myself would be a short walk on the Willow Canyon trail. I just wanted a viewpoint, and I figured it could not be TOO far to reach one.
I said to the other half later that it felt very much like the start of a story where someone disappears – a hot sunny day, a hiking trail, and no one to miss me for hours if not days. My imagination ran away with me slightly, partly due to heat, but I was far from alone – I passed people every few minutes, so I knew that even if I were to slip and fall, someone would find me in good time. I also had a phone and full bottle of water, and I had no intention of walking more than a mile.
The trail started flat and in shade of some trees, with lovely rock formations off to the right that looked very TV-California.
In little time it curved off to the right and began to climb – a wide, dusty road that was clearly well-used by hikers, bikers, and horses. My fitness was not at tip-top by any stretch but I could see what I thought was a good place to turn around and see the view, ‘just up ahead’. So, I paused several times and availed myself of plenty of water, and kept pushing – up and up past my first ‘I’ll turn back there’ point, as every time I reached one I could see what looked like a viewpoint just ahead.
In all fairness, I do not think I hiked more than a mile and a half or so, but it was quite steep in places and the mid-day sun was sapping my strength quickly. I had nearly determined to turn around when I finally caught sight of a small sign indicating a viewpoint up ahead. I pushed a bit further and was far from disappointed when the trail swung around sharply to the left, leaving a stunning view across the valley in both directions. Behind were the hills leading towards the coast, and ahead the hills and valleys that eventually flattened out into the populated areas. In the distance, one can just make out what I think must be Rt 73, which I had driven south a few days before.
The hot, sweaty hike was very much worth the view from the top! And despite my knee injury acting up on my way down, I was so happy and proud of myself for the walk. Plus, there was an ice machine back at the hotel for sore joints…
All in all, it was a fantastic morning that allowed me to release some of my work stress and feel like I had a proper California experience. Travelling for work has its ups and downs for sure – it can be lonely, exhausting, jet-lag inducing, and hotels and hotel food can be depressing. But, it can also open the door for experiences like this one, and another I had in Thailand a few weeks later. A subject for my next post!
For a good part of my tween and teen years, I spent several weeks each year visiting my father in Puerto Rico. So much of the island is stunningly beautiful, with sunny beaches and tree-covered mountains of a rugged nature unlike those we have in New England and Scotland. The flowers are bright yellows, pinks, oranges and clear whites, the greens varying from almost yellow to dark rich near-black hues. The architecture is modern and also historic, with cities like San Juan and Ponce demonstrating their European connections. But there is also striking damage from numerous hurricanes and generations of poverty. I recall vividly driving through the mountains past corrugated metal houses, and coming across a road that had been washed away by Hurricane Maria’s rainfall. I could spend a great deal more time discussing the economy of Puerto Rico, but this is a photo blog and not a political one; I will likely return to the topic when I post about Vieques. The many sides of Puerto Rico mystified me when I was young, and it is only during my last few visits as an adult that I have truly come to appreciate the unique nature of the place, and realise how lucky I have been to see it change over the past 30 years. I have been trying to work out the best way for me to share my favourite places for some time, so I’ve settled on my highlights of Puerto Rico, starting off with the city of Ponce, on the south coast.
Ponce
I really enjoyed our short trip down to Ponce a few years ago, and was struck by its clear European roots – the architecture is very Spanish Caribbean. Newer buildings offer views up towards the mountains that form the spine of the island. The second-largest city on the island, Ponce was founded by the Spanish in 1692. It boasts a beautiful fountain in the square and the extraordinary Rincón Argentino, serving mouth-watering steaks.
In the mountains above Ponce is Hacienda Buena Vista, an old coffee plantation run on water power. It is beautiful and fascinating, with several enormous water wheels and a series of tunnels and rivulets carrying water all over the plantation.
Hacienda Gripiñas
Further into the mountains near the town of Jayuya is Hacienda Gripiñas, another old plantation that has been transformed into an inn. Dad took me here many years ago and it stood out in my mind for its stunning beauty in the mountains, and the fried plantains we had with breakfast. The accommodation is basic, but the food was classic Puerto Rican and the surroundings quiet and peaceful.
Mountains of Puerto Rico
As is quite common in the Caribbean, Puerto Rico boasts a coastline of beautiful beaches and interior of lush, craggy mountains. Unlike northern mountains that were smoothed by glaciers, these have lots of sharp edges and cliffs. One of the only crops that grows at altitude and on such steep hillsides is coffee, and Puerto Rican coffee is some of the best I have ever tasted (costing about $1.50 from a roadside caravan).
El Morro, Old San Juan
Castillo San Felipe del Morro is arguably Puerto Rico’s most famous building; the iconic garitas (overhanging, wall-mounted turret or sentry box) are a symbol of the island throughout the USA. Construction started in the 16th century and continued for more than 100 years, until it reached its current state in the late 1700s. While we did not manage to get inside the fortress, we did explore the outer walls and I was able to capture some of the stunning views along the north coast of San Juan, as well as one photogenic local.
Luquillo Beach
Moving eastward along the north coast of the island, one reaches the famous beach of Luquillo. At certain times of year, it is crowded with tourists and locals, taking advantage of the numerous kioskos offering food and drink refreshments like seafood, burgers, chicken, beer and cocktails. It is also a stunning beach with plenty of palms and warm clear water. We visited on our last day and wished we had never gone anywhere else! Though we were also lucky enough to have it all to ourselves…
Seven Seas Beach, Fajardo
Our ‘local’ beach when visiting, Seven Seas is not as spacious as Luquillo but it is a great beach for a walk and a swim; the water is warm and relatively shallow, and its location makes it easy to reach. And, if you walk far enough, you can see through the trees into Laguna Grande, one of Puerto Rico’s eco-masterpieces, a bioluminescent bay. I was lucky enough to take a boat ride in a bio bay on Vieques years ago, and it is a truly unique experience.
Punta Puerca and the Vieques sound
Not a small part of Puerto Rican history is a complex and often troublesome relationship with the US government. This was embodied by the US Naval occupation of more than half of Vieques island, and the enormous Navy base at Roosevelt Roads, near Ceiba. The base has been inactive since 2004, replaced by a large area of abandoned military buildings and the Jose Aponte de la Torre Airport. The hills of Punta Puerca offer lovely views back towards Fajardo and across the sound to Vieques. I plan to write more about Vieques in the near future.
Balneario de Humacao
I cannot really recall how we ended up at this beach, other than my father must have recommended it. When we visited it was completely abandoned, and the recent hit by Hurricane Maria was evident in severely damaged palms and other foliage. The waves were a bit high for swimming and the beach quite narrow, but we were graced by a visit from the local gang of wild perros puertorriqueños. We didn’t have any food for them, so they watched us for a bit and trotted off down the beach.
El Nuevo Horizonte
One of the most stunning drives in Puerto Rico – and harrowing at times due to narrow, steep and winding path – is route 901 that runs through the community of El Negro and up along the coast before plunging down the hills into Emajagua and Maunabo.
At the apex of the road, as it tops the hills, is Restaurant El Nuevo Horizonte, where one can find amazing views and very tasty frozen piña coladas, both with and without rum.
Playa Larga
After visiting this beach for the first time, I routinely referred to it as ‘paradise beach’ (not partly because I didn’t know its real name). It is simply one of the most stunning beaches I have ever seen, lined with palm trees and with a small river that emerges from the palms to meander down towards the water. I have also taken some of my favourite pictures of all time at this beach. Yup, it’s one of the best.
Faro de Punta Tuna
First built in the 1890s, Punta Tuna lighthouse is a close sister in style to the lighthouse looking over Isabela Segunda harbor on Vieques. It sits high on a promontory with my paradise beach on one side and Puerto Maunabo on the other. When we visited in 2018 it was also one of the clearest spots to observe the hurricane damage wrought by Maria, only a few months previous (check out the scars on the palm trees in the view overlooking the beach).
Puerto Maunabo
Last but not least, La Cueva del Mar, a spot in Fajardo overlooking the marina, where you can get fantastic fish tacos and of course, piña colada 🍹.
I have been wanting to do a Puerto Rico post for some time but was a bit flummoxed on where to start. There are so many beautiful beaches and views that I could not decide if I wanted to choose one, or just highlight some of my favourites. In the end, the former won out, as I looked through my many pictures and realised that if there was anywhere in Puerto Rico that stands out, it is Sun Bay.
A bit of background – my father moved to Vieques when I was a tween, and until I moved to Scotland, I would spend several weeks there every year, usually around Christmas, my March break, and a week or two in the summer – sometimes a bit longer. My father very much used Sun Bay as a kind of wild gym, going there almost every day to walk and swim, and I always joined him. I have to admit that I have not visited this beach now in more than ten years, but I knew it very well. I gather that there have been many changes since I was last there, some caused by man and some by weather. I can attest that it is not only stunningly beautiful, but also the perfect spot for a long walk or swim.
Sun Bay is, as it sounds, a beautiful crescent-shaped beach facing south, with plenty of gorgeous sand and lined with palms and sea grapes. The palms often take a beating during hurricanes and you can never be sure how many will be there. The beach is deep enough that you can usually find a place in the shade or in the sun, and all within a few steps of the usually clear water. There used to be a swimming area marked out, with a line of buoys stretching along the length of the beach that made it very easy to swim along and stay in deep water; this also protects swimmers from boats of course. Behind the beach is a relatively well-kept road that allows you to drive the length of the shore and back to find the perfect spot for you, or continue on to Media Luna, the next beach along that was well-known for having good surf.
This road is also where I had my first-ever driving lesson, on a quiet day one January, and the parking lots adjacent to the beach were where I first practiced manoeuvring into spots and learning how hard to step on the brake and gas.
While Sun Bay is a great place for swimming it is not necessarily for snorkelling; there used to be a spot to the far left that you could swim out to, but it was not as well-developed as most of the beaches on the former Navy Base. Also, it was quite a decent swim just to get there and the waves were often strong enough to make any real enjoyment of the fish quite difficult. Even in swimming closer to the beach, though, I have seen a variety of creatures over the years including turtles, an enormous ray, barracuda, and of course plenty of fish. Out of the water, one can often spy groups of wild horses that roam the island, but seem often to congregate near the beach.
My fondest memories of the beach are the hours we would spend here alternately sitting in the sun, swimming, and taking long walks from one end of the beach to the other. As one walks towards the right – facing the water – or to the west, one finds that there are spots where the rock shelves have emerged from the sand. If ambitious, one can also cross the spit of land and look back towards Esperanza, and the often impressive boats moored there – often a mix of yachts and sailboats.
These long walks often included deep discussions of the state of the world, my life, my future, and any number of other topics; then when we had fixed our lives, or the world – in theory at least – we could cool off by diving into the waves. Or, depending upon the time of year, at least dive in – in summer months and early autumn, the sea is often so warm that it feels like bath water.
I hope that in time I will be able to dig out my older pictures of other beaches – Vieques has no shortage of stunning beaches, and many of them were prevented from development by the long occupation of the island by the US Navy. In the early years of my visiting, a good portion of the island was still being used for bombing and other training, and the impact on the local population was extreme – and a discussion for another time.
I understand that in recent years, Vieques has become an increasingly popular place for visitors, as gradually access to the island has improved and recovery from various storms has been achieved – Hurricane Maria in 2017 was particularly damaging, as it was for so much of Puerto Rico. If you do manage to visit, Sun Bay is an absolute must!
West Sands in St Andrews is a destination beach for many reasons, and it never disappoints. A close friend of mine walks the beach almost every day, and he agrees that it never looks exactly the same. The beach is well-known as the location for the opening scene in Chariots of Fire (check it out here, starting about 2 mins in to really see the beach), and for running alongside the world-famous Old and New Courses.
It is also a stunningly preserved (with much work done by the Joint Nature Conservation Committee and Fife Coast and Countryside Trust) example of coastal dunes, which are immensely important defences against erosion and are a protected area. For locals, the beach is a popular walk location for families with children, dogs, horses and everyone else – particularly University students looking to de-stress with a pick-up game, jog, or mind-clearing walk. It is about two miles in one direction, and can seem quite quick when you are walking with the wind – just be aware that walking into the wind is a much harder option. And yes, it is almost always windy.
For most, the walk will start only steps away from the Royal Golf Museum and the Bruce Embankment Car Park (not free). There is a recently refurbished toilet block available, and a bit further on a dog-friendly café, Dook, open 9-5 currently (‘dook’ being a Scottish word for a quick dip or bathe).
There are two options available for walkers: you can start off following the road behind the dunes, and choose one of the many paths that branch off to the right leading to the beach. It is possible to follow the road the whole way out to the end, where there is a small car park, but walkers beware that the pedestrian path ends probably less than a mile along. Alternatively, you can just stick to the beach. At low tide you can walk quite a way out, but at high tide you are quite constricted to a small section of beach – there is about a 5m difference between high and low tide, or 16 ft.
Whichever option you choose, prepare for wind! And bring your camera – West Sands really is one of the more stunning beaches I have ever seen, and it is almost impossible not to take another picture, even if one already has 100s.
It would be remiss of me not to also point out the potential dangers in getting carried away with your walk. The end of the beach eventually curves around the corner, as the North Sea meets the Eden Estuary, and here the tides can move incredibly fast. It is very easy to get caught out, and so it is recommended that walkers be very cautious around this point. You can in fact cut back up to the car park here and walk along a small access road which takes you another 15 minutes or so out to a viewing platform. This platform offers birdwatching guidance as well as stunning views back across the golf courses towards town, or in the other direction across the water to Leuchars base and Tentsmuir Forest. This end of the beach is quite popular for bird-watchers as well as walkers.
While the beach is no doubt stunning in the middle of a sunny day, the evening hours are what I love the most, as you can see below!
The Wandering Medievalist 