We woke to the gentle sound of the sea on pebbles. The air this morning was cool, with a breeze making us feel unseasonably cold. We wore waterproof jackets to keep the breeze off as we ate breakfast and enjoyed our first hot drink of the day. We were both eager to start walking, feeling excited for what the day would bring. Yesterday set a very high bar, with whale sightings and the drama of the Arbroath Cliffs. Already, Eve was staring out to sea, desperate to glimpse more whales. We packed up the tent and set off, climbed out of Carlingheugh Bay towards the small village of Auchmithie.
Walking along the cliff tops towards Auchmithie, the views did not disappoint. The cliffs were strikingly wild and dramatic, with large sections jutting into the sea, gradually crumbling into the waters below. We discussed geology and coastal erosionāhow, in years to come, if Eve were to return, the cliffs would look very different.
Approaching Auchmithie, we knew we would have to head slightly inland. Feeling somewhat despondent about the prospect of leaving, albeit briefly, the coast, we slowed our pace, stopping regularly to āwhale spotā.
The small village of Auchmithie is charming, with a history that goes much deeper than it seems. There is a fire beacon on the south side of the village that, when approached, looks old. In reality, it is a modern installation to commemorate the millennium. The local community lights it on special occasions and every New Year's Day. We would like to return one day and see it ablaze. With its backdrop and ornate metalwork, it would be a dramatic sight! Walking into Auchmithie, made use of the public toilets before heading inland along a farmer's track out of the village.
The farmers' track was flanked on both sides by brambles laden with the largest, sweetest blackberries we've ever seen. It was the first big surprise of the day, and one we made the most of. We dropped our backpacks to pick blackberries, gathering handfuls. Feeding ourselves and each other, our hands, lips, and tongues were dyed a deep purple that persisted for the rest of the day! We ate enough blackberries to feel full for most of the day, delaying our lunch and even dinner. The energy and feeling that freshly foraged foods give surpass anything you can buy in a shop!
We carried on walking along tracks, through farmers' fields, and even passed under an apple tree with a couple of apples still hanging from the branches. We picked them, carrying them with us for an afternoon snack! Getting back to the coast, we had a decision to makeā¦
Signs instructed us to move inland, avoiding the coast, and to stay on farmers' tracks and minor roads. However, the maps depicted a trail along the cliffs passing Red Head, Aulds Mains, Kirk Loch, Joss, Spectacle, Lang Craig, Yellow Craig, Lime Craig to our Corbie Knowe on Lunan Bay. Without any discussion, we chose the latter, sticking to the cliffs along the coast. It was the best section of coast all day.
Walking around the cliffs was a spectacle. The cliffs were rugged and jutted out into the sea, hiding bays and inlets that shelter wildlife, flora, and fauna. The tide was out as we walked, revealing massive slabs of rock intertwined in the never-ending battle between sea and land. With every few paces, a new surprise unfolded and a new challenge underfoot as we navigated our narrow strip of land between farmers' fields and the coast. The trail was wide and grassy as we walked on the sandwiched land between the fence and the sea. The fence was electrified, as I found out at my cost.
Eve spotted a bumblebee and asked me to take a photograph, which I attempted to do. In my concentration on photographing the bee, I touched the fence, sending a sharp bolt of electricity into the knuckles of my hand. I dropped my phone and let out a yelp. It hurt and caught me off guard. It hurt! Eve was very apologetic, although she didn't need to be.
I wondered why the fence was electric, given that the fields were arable and contained no livestock. That was until we realised what the fence was guarding against. Dozens of goats lived on the cliffs. We hadnāt noticed the goats at first, but after we did, we kept spotting them in the most inaccessible locations you could imagine. Perched on small rocky outcrops, crumbling cliffs, and wave-battered rocks at the base of cliffs hundreds of feet tall! These goats were brave and hardy. Eve and I were humbled by the way they scrambled along the cliffs with the ease and grace of a ballerina!
Following the cliffs and leaving the goats behind, we passed Ethie Haven, a small picturesque hamlet built into the grassy cliffs overlooking Lunan Bay. This quaint collection of cottages has a long, fascinating history, Iām sure. However, lacking time as the day pressed on, we didn't linger long enough to research it, although weāre certain its connection to the coast was linked to fishing!
On the edge of Lunan Bay beach, there seems to be a hut community. Walking through the huts was like strolling through a ghost town. The huts appeared rustic, and we saw no one, although a few cars were scattered around. It was an intriguing place with a pleasant atmosphere. We didn't feel threatened or unwelcome as we passed by, heading onto the sandy beach.
Lunan Bay is a wide, golden sandy beach and was where we hoped to find somewhere to spend the night. We walked along the beach, close to the water, to put some distance between us and the huts before we started searching for a secluded spot to pitch the tent for the night. We found several places but kept feeling the need to walk on.
Reaching the small bay where Lunan Water flows into the sea, we could see a small wooded area high up on the dunes. This was where we felt we might find somewhere to camp. Not wanting to venture into the small village of Lunan to find a bridge, we removed our trainers and socks, tied them around our necks, and waded through the river to the other side, across the beach and into the wooded area. We found the most beautiful spot to pitch the tent.
On the edge of the trees with the beach stretching out in front of us, it was an idyllic spot to spend the night and watch the sun set over the horizon. I pitched the tent as Eve played happily on the beach, doing cartwheels, digging holes, and writing in the sand, before eating our usual dinner! Cold trail pizza.
We didnāt go to bed early this evening, sitting outside as the day slipped into twilight and descended into night. It had been another fantastic day hiking the coast, feasting on blackberries and watching ghosts navigate cliffs as if they could fly! If only this could last forever, I would be the happiest man alive, and Eve, I hope the happiest child!
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