As you walk into Lower Largo there is an ever-growing feeling of
excitement. It's the sort of excitement that comes with that first
glimpse of a village whose level of prettiness is way off the scale.
Apart from the narrow main street with its tiny whitewashed cottages,
crow-stepped gables, and roofs of curvy red pantiles (or 'panties', as
my computer would rather have me say - what sort of two-bit bundle of
electronic cack has not heard of the word 'pantile'?), there is this
whopping great railway viaduct that towers over the village in a most
agreeable fashion. It is a constant reminder of the past.
Lower Largo once had a railway station, and trains once chugged over the
breathtaking multi-arched viaduct high above its panties. At one time
the railway dominated life in the village, if for no other reason than
that folk might have spent every waking moment with one eye squinting
upwards, thinking to themselves, 'If the 4.50 to Leven comes off the
rails and lands on my head, it's going to hurt.'
Today, even in the absence of the
railway, it still dominates life in Lower Largo. For nestling in the
shadow of the mighty structure you will find Station Wynd, on whose ancient cobbles sits the Railway Inn, a glorious old pub whose interior
festooned with things to do with trains. How very sad that there
no railway in this part of Fife. When we banished trains from places
like Lower Largo we made a BIG mistake.