|The end of the holidays
||[May. 29th, 2014|10:18 pm]
We had plans for Thursday evening, so we took it easy during the day, pottering around doing our various errands, taking the last chance to visit or explore or -
durham_rambler and I spent the morning disposing of recycling and doing a little light shopping. Our house had no recycling bins at all, but we had found the way to the tip earlier in the week: just past the corner where this lonely figure stood sentinel ("It's the Michelin man!" said durham_rambler, but it isn't...).
Recycling discarded, we followed the signs to the Cheese Farm and Coffee Shop. Coffee first - and perhaps, I suggested, a little something off-diet to accompany it? "The all-day breakfast?" asked durham_rambler. That wasn't on offer, so we had cake with our coffee, examined the menu and felt that another time this would be a place for an agreeable lunch. We bought some of their cheese: the local variety is called Anster (which is allegedly how you pronounce Anstruther, though we didn't hear anyone doing so - and something I read complicated matters still further by asserting that it's pronounced 'Enster') and is a tasty but not exciting hard cheese. I liked the younger, creamy-crumbly form better than the more mature, Cheddar-like version.
On our way into Anstruther. to do a little more utilitarian shopping at the Co-op, we passed this mystery object. It stands alone, apparently in a ploughed field, in the pouring rain, and no amount of internet search has given me any clue what it is.
Though I did find this splendid gallery of Scottish castles, so my time wasn't wasted.
I spent the afternoon wandering around Pittenweem, nosing around the shops and galleries, taking pictures of the harbour, generally enjoying myself. There were some wonderful contemporary crafts, beautifully displayed, at the The Coach House, though the item I most desired was a drawing by James Barclay, of a broken creel at Cellardyke - and that was in a curious shop, which appeared to be the downstairs of the proprietor's house, full of second-hand oddments (including a shelf of books) but dotted with reasonably serious - and seriously priced - contemporary art. Can this have been The Little Gallery? I can't tell...
In the evening we all went to the folk club in Crail - upstairs in the Town Hall, which is a very fine building. The guests were James Hickman and Dan Cassidy, and they were fine: they played very varied material, something for everyone but not really conveying any focus - I'm not complaining, as I suspect the focus of their interest is not the part of their repertoire that most interests me. I enjoyed the evening, and while I wouldn't go out of my way to see them again, I wouldn't go out of my way to avoid them, either. The club had the unusual of startu=ing on time, putting the guests on for a set straight away, then after the break putting in some floor spots before the second set. Which seemed to work, and the Bears did a floor spot, so that was good.
And the next morning it was time to clear up and come home. Goodbye, Pittenweem.