Written several weeks later ….

It wasn’t long before another few days empty of appointments appeared in the diary and we could set off again. The No Plans idea had worked so well on the last trip that we decided to do give it another try. Once more we looked at the weather forecast and this time the Kingdom of Fife and Angus looked promising.

Packing for a trip involves making decisions about what items we put in the van’s capacious underbelly. If we take golf clubs and trolleys we can’t fit the microwave and the coolbox in. The golf clubs were obviously essential on this trip and we also decided to take our electric bikes. Shirley, very wisely suggested that we tried them out to make sure they were working properly. Good thing we did – hers was not switching on. What to do? We soon discovered an Electric Bike shop in Dundee who could repair her make of bike so it was settled, we would be going over the River Tay at one point this trip.

Once we knew we were going to Fife, we got in touch with Simon, a friend of many years, and arranged to visit him. So we had two things on the itinerary but after that it was the open road and freedom to choose as we went along. It felt a bit naughty and exciting to just set off without even working out where we would sleep that night. The sun was bright as we drove up the M90 and we decided it would be a good afternoon to walk along the banks of Loch Leven. We parked up at Findatie where the café allows overnight parking. Right beside the path along the Loch, it offers a safe place to overnight and good simple food in a super friendly environment. We were soon fed and exercised and sitting relaxed in the motorhome. A fabulous sunset ended our first day and it felt good.

The next morning we peered at the contents of the fridge, a random mixture of the contents of the fridge at home and a couple of prepared meals. We realised that we needed milk and yogurt so decided to find a supermarket. This information might seem a bit mundane but it was a big revelation. I have never, ever been so relaxed about planning and packing. I could hardly recognise myself. Was this a good thing or not?

Two hours after getting the necessary items, we were pulling up at the Harbour in Dysart. Motorhomes are welcome to overnight here and the outlook is very attractive. There are no facilities other than a small café in the Harbourmaster’s office building and public loos. There is no charge for parking but donations to the Harbour Trust are very welcome. The box is on the corridor beside the café. What more excuse did we need to go have a cup of tea and a scone?

The next day we had a great visit with Simon, lunch together in the Harbour café and a walk along the Fife coastal path. I make that sound like we walked for miles … we didn’t. Back at the van for coffee Simon remarked that sitting in one of the captain’s seats by the big front windows is a people watcher’s dream. It is indeed.

A notice by the tight access road to the harbour informed us that the next day it would be closed for the Kirkcaldy running festival. With some sadness we decided to move on north towards our next stop. There is a very popular motorhome stopover at Ruby Bay near Elie. It was the next obvious choice after reading the glowing reviews of the gorgeous beach, good facilities and great views. We took a few wrong turns trying to find it, including driving through a small housing estate causing people to stop and stare. Finally, as we approached it with that buzz of excitement reminiscent of the moment we had as children when we saw the sea in the near distance, another camper came the other way signing that it was completely full. We could barely believe it but we had to admit it made sense. Saturday late afternoon on a warm and sunny day. The motorhomers were out in force.

Back on the road north we decided on The Beeches – an absolute peach of a motorhome stop over on a farm close to Taymouth. A small field of beautifully tended grass with water, waste and cassette emptying is lined with beautiful beech trees. Here you can spend the night for the amazingly small sum of £5. We found it nearly empty apart from another couple in a brightly painted van, reminding us of the 1970s and flower power. The owners were probably not even born in the 1970s but it gave us a warm feeling to remember.

Two nights of peace and quiet, long walks for Poppy and long sleeps for us and we were off again towards the Tay Bridge and the Electric Bike Shop. Dundee is full of road works – I am told that this is a common state of affairs here. Something like the painting of the Forth Bridge. We drove over the Tay Bridge and attempted to get into City Quay where the bike shop is. It’s almost on the waterfront and the turning is within 50 yards of the bridge exit so we missed it. Driving on we managed to turn in a shopping centre car park across the road and came back for a second go. Once in the right place it took us a while to find a place to stop and also to take Shirley’s bike off the rack. Little did we know that our short visit to City Quay was going to come back and bite us on the bum. More on that later.

Dan the Bike Man promised to phone us later in the day once he had checked the bike over, and so we set off up the coast. We stopped at Dobbies, just north of Dundee, for breakfast and some decision making about our plans for the night. Arbroath is only a short distance from Dundee so we decided to try out the motorhome parking there. When we arrived we found a large number of vans parked along the waterfront. We were a bit taken aback and wondered if there was permission in place for all of them (and one more). We were met by a large sign welcomed motorhomers to spend one night so we found a spot in the long line of vans. It was surprisingly peaceful sitting beside the estuary and relaxing.

Walking along the row of vans we got talking to a man who lived in the van with his wife all year round. In motorhoming circles they are known as full timers and sometimes van-lifers. We had an interesting chat with him. Full timers are a great source of tips to make life comfortable on the road and he was certainly a good source of information. We asked how they managed during winter and he said that they simply drive around the UK and find new places to explore. They had been at this parking for three weeks, despite the notice that said ‘one night only’. He said that nobody had asked them to move on and indeed very few only stayed for one night. He kept his spot clean, picked up rubbish that others have left behind and pointed out that most of it was from cars driving by. Motorhomers do get blamed for making a mess but most are very aware of their surroundings and keep them clean.

Enough chatting to the neighbours, we went for a long walk to an easily accessible beach and bought an ice cream Honestly, this is turning into an addiction.

That evening Dan Bike Man phoned and said that the bike was fixed. We asked him to keep it until Friday – we had no appetite to go back to Dundee and its traffic and road works so soon. No problem at all!

So, there we were, In Arbroath with no plans. For all its generosity to motorhomers and its famous Arbroath Smokies it isn’t really a place we would want to stay long. We sat for a while pondering the options when we began to talk about another of our favourite places – the Moray Coast. Findochty (pronounced Finnechty) is a small seaside village with a camp site, a harbour, a pub and a small shop. We called the site to book in for a three night stay and we promised to be there the next day before the office closed. I must admit to being a bit put off by the monosyllabic, disinterested tone of the lady who took the booking but we reminded ourselves that the site was literally next to the beach and the views would be wonderful. The other big attraction was the fabulous Strathlene Golf Course next door. We’ve played it a number of times and it’s a real gem.

The journey from Arbroath to Findochty takes about three and a half hours in a motorhome. These things are built for comfort not speed. We fully intended to stop for breakfast in the van if we could find a good parking spot along the way. Eventually we pulled into one that had lorry parking and a trucker’s café. Our will power definitely needs some work as we didn’t hesitate for a moment – we were soon inside tucking into an artery clogging delight. We felt a pang of guilt when we realised that they serve chips with breakfast but it didn’t last. We clocked a few glances in our direction from big hairy truckers – no doubt ladies of a certain age eating truckers’ breakfasts is a bit unusual. On a more positive note this meal kept us going for the rest of the day.

Pulling into the campsite in Findochty I was imagining a dour faced person on reception. I was wrong of course – a smiley young woman chatted warmly and told us our pitch number. I checked that it would fit our big van. “How big?” she asked, “With the bikes on the rack it’s probably 9 metres”, I replied. Her mouth dropped open as she said. “OMG – do you both drive that?”

We weren’t offended in the least, taking it that we had done our bit for gender equality. She did spoil it a bit though when she said, “The water tap is just along beside the toilets, don’t knock the wall down as you drive in.”

Things have improved here since our last visit with better laid out pitches and a place to fill and empty motorhomes. Our pitch was big and had views over the sea and after sitting outside in the sunshine and enjoying a good walk around the harbour we retired for a peaceful early night.

The next morning was sunny and warm so we decided that this was the day for a game of golf. We had some Two for One golf vouchers to use so we were keen to get out and use one of them. We remembered the slightly inconvenient fact that the club house was at the other end of the course from the campsite. This links course is long and we quickly realised that walking to the clubhouse to book in and pay would add another full round of walking to our game. Shirley phoned and asked if we could a) book a tee time b) start at the 9th tee and c) hand in our two for one voucher and pay when we got back to the first tee. Absolutely no problem at all! We were free to start and finish whenever and wherever we wanted and “Just pop in as you go by.”

Strathlene is a glorious course if the weather is good. Coastal winds can turn it into a very difficult challenge and we realised when we walked up the side of the hill to the 9th tee that it was windier than we had realised. Not put off at all by this we set off merrily down the course. Something strange happens when you return to a course that you haven’t played for a few years. Each hole seems like a mystery until you take the first shot and start to remember it as though it was yesterday. We kept reminding one another with gems like, “This is the one that the hole is at the top of the hill, best not take our clubs up there.” and “Ah yes, this is the one I peed in the bushes last time.”

Arriving at the clubhouse we went up to the bar to pay. They didn’t need to see the voucher and told us that we could have seniors’ price with the two for one offer. This was above and beyond in terms of friendly welcome and kindness. We knew full well that the voucher doesn’t include other offers but they insisted. We sat in the bar drinking a soft drink and looking out to sea. Idyllic! Then off we set back through the first 8 holes, remembering too late that there is a massive ditch at the first. We were exhausted when we finally got back to the motorhome and wanted only to sit down and drink lots of cool water. Poppy had other ideas of course.

The next day we decided to get on the bus to Cullen and have lunch. Our first challenge was finding the bus stop and the second was understanding the driver when he told us how to use our seniors cards. At home you just pop it on the reader and say thanks. Here we had to say where we were going and wait while he put the details into the machine. Then, thinking it was all done, we got told off for trying to pick up our cards too soon. The bus driver was an eye roller. Contempt for wrinklies is alive and well. I made a mental apology for my own youthful self when my attitudes were similar. The difference was that I tried not to show them.

Cullen held few surprises, it is a traditional little fishing town and we have visited before. We began with a pleasant walk along the front, a quick look at the golf course and then up the steep hill to the main street. We were too early for lunch and the possibilities for entertainment are admittedly pleasant but rather limited. A visit to a gift shop, then the Co-op to get some essentials left us with a dilemma. Buses go once an hour and if we didn’t get lunch now we would have to hang about for a long time after we’d eaten. So we went into The Rockpool, a lovely café on the square and asked for a table. “Have you booked?” said the lady behind the counter. No we hadn’t of course. Well you can have that little table but only until 1.00 p.m. she said with a smile. Plenty of time, we assured her, we want to catch the bus at 12.55 pm. “And I want to have an ice cream before we get on it,” murmured Shirley in my ear. No surprise there.

Our choice from the lunch menu seemed obvious – Cullen Skink with a chunk of granary bread. It was fabulous. We quickly understood why you would need to book; really special food great atmosphere and very cosy. People were walking in from the street and asking for tables the whole time we were there and getting turned away. There was one distraction however. We were the nearest table to the toilet and people kept shuffling by, trying the door, then going away again. After a while we started to wonder if someone had died in there so we tried the door ourselves. It was just a very stiff handle. For the next half hour we found ourselves repeatedly reassuring people that there was no-one using the facilities and they should give the handle a firm push. Each pull of the door gave Shirley’s chair a little nudge but she managed not to spill a drop of her soup. We were grateful that we had been given this little corner table however because we would have missed the Cullen Skink and never known how good it was.

Out in the street with ten minutes to spare we hot footed to the ice cream shop and bought cones, sitting slurping them in the bus shelter while we waited for the bus. By now it was raining and the lady waiting beside us was wearing a big coat with a hood. She didn’t give us a passing glance – probably used to the mad tourists.

On Friday it was time to leave our little seaside corner and head south again. We made sure to have breakfast before we left, to avoid the temptation of that truckers’ café. It was late afternoon when we joined Dundee’s heavy traffic. We got to the bike shop to pick up the bike, all fixed and ready to ride. Great service from Electric Bikes Scotland but beware of the parking – the scene of the bum biting. I know … I’m being a tease.

Ten minutes later we were back at the Beeches motorhome stopover and found another Hymer of the same vintage as ours parked up. We had chats with the very friendly owners talking about owning an older Hymer, all the places we have travelled and eventually discovering that we had been parked next to one another at Glencaple Pier in Dumfries and Galloway in May. They recognised our van, mostly because of its size and the six wheels. Probably also because of the drivers (“Have you seen those two old women driving that big bus?”)

We decided to stay for a second night as the weather was pleasant and we had no need to rush away. The sun was shining and the air warm as we set off walking to Tayport through the nearby Tentsmuir Nature Reserve. The forest paths, all signposted and levelled, made it an easy walk and before long we found ourselves out of the forest and on a path through a golf course. Several people were playing so we kept Poppy tightly on lead. She can’t tell the difference between a lost ball and a ball in play so her penchant for ball hunting can get us into all kinds of trouble. It looked like a pleasant course and, once through it, we found ourselves facing a small community caravan site and a café with tables outside in the sun. We had a coffee and scone (how easily do we find the an excuse to do that?) and enjoyed people watching. The campsite and café belong to the local community and profits go to different community projects. We were thinking how convenient it was for the golf course and began to plan a trip to stay on the site and play golf to our hearts’ content. That lasted until I looked up the visitor fees. £70 each per round. That idea was scuppered so we got up to head back to the van – or so I thought. We had walked more than 3 miles by then and my only thought was that we would have to walk it all again to get back. Shirley had other ideas. “Surely we can’t leave without seeing something of the town,” she said with her best doe eyed look. I couldn’t find a reason to resist but I was going nowhere until we knew which way to go. Shirley has a reputation for getting lost and then saying cheerfully, “Let’s see what’s round the next corner.” I’ve been caught that way before, so out came the phone and Google maps. Shirley chose a pub for our destination, claiming that it looked like it was beside the water. Another couple of miles later the afternoon sun got hotter and so did my feet. At one point I asked if she was sure the pub we were heading for was actually close to the town and she admitted she had no idea. Marching on in front of me and Poppy who was also tired by this time, Shirley came good when we came across the harbour and a beautiful view of blue water and sailing boats. I also clocked some benches and launched myself onto one announcing that I needed an ice cream and if I didn’t get one I would cry. A bit over dramatic I admit, but Shirley just laughed and went in the direction of a likely looking café across the road. It turned out to be a dementia café but they did sell ice cream. And very nice ice cream it was. I took my shoes and socks off and sank into the little bit of heaven that is chocolate ice cream on a hot summer’s day.

On the walk back through the golf course, Poppy, still on the lead, found several balls hidden in deep bushes on the edge of the path. We have no idea how she does that but we’re grateful. We will never need to buy another golf ball. Back at the van with at least nine miles covered I sat down and refused to move. At least Poppy didn’t need a walk, just a gallon of water and a sleep.

The next day was Sunday and time for our last plan of the trip. We quickly decided that we were ready to go home and looked up the most direct route. On the way we stopped at Dobbies in Dunfermline for breakfast. It was a surprise to be met by the question “Have you booked a table?” Who knew? So we had no choice but to wander around the shop for half an hour before we could go and eat. I think this is a ploy to get people to buy some stuff as well as eat in the café. Soon we were on the Queensferry Bridge over the Forth and heading for home.

In the post waiting inside the door was a fine for parking illegally outside the bike shop. £60 for dropping off a bike without buying a parking ticket that would have cost £2.40! We had no idea we needed one. We live and learn and sometimes we swear a bit but nothing could spoil our lovely sunny trip.