Silverburn Park

For Christmas 2021, my sister Linda gifted us a night's stay at Silverburn Campsite on the edge of Leven. The beach is just a short stroll away and we had a voucher for an eco pod. We had originally pencilled in the trip for the summer but Nicole ended up spending three months in Germany unexpectedly and the camping expedition had to be pushed back into autumn. We reserved a pod for the first Friday of my October holidays and headed there straight from my workplace.

We had previously gone camping in a tent on several occasions (including journeys to England and Wales) but ultimately Nicole decided she preferred indoor hostel accommodation. A wooden pod however was a fine compromise. We had stayed in a similar unit in Northumberland a few years back. We arrived at Silverburn around 4.30pm and were directed to our house for the night. The site has three pods plus space for regular tents and campervans. It was obviously the tail end of the season and the place was quiet. Two pods were occupied and a couple of tents stood in the field. Toilets and showers were located just a few steps away and our pod contained a microwave and mini fridge, along with heating and lighting. We unloaded our gear and decamped to Sainsburys to fetch some supplies. Linda had generously included a fire pack on our voucher and I noted the sack of wood by the firepit with no small amount of satisfaction. I have loved building fires ever since I was a small child and used to burn any old wooden furniture my folks happened to be throwing out. We also purchased a disposable barbecue from the site office and returned from the supermarket with sausages, bacon and other goodies. A visitor in the form of a friendly male ginger cat was waiting for us. As soon as we opened the pod door he went straight in and jumped on to the mattress upon the double bed. We both surmised he had been here before. Sheets and blankets weren't supplied so we had brought our own sleeping bags and pillows. The sofa inside the pod extended to form another bed, if required. The interior was spacious enough for two people but I reckoned it would be a bit crowded with three or four occupants. Mind you, during nice weather you could sit outside and the pod would simply be a place to crash. Tonight was dry but rather chilly and it was time to get the fire going. I soon cajoled a blaze from the kindling and we also lit the little barbecue. These things are a hit-and-miss affair but it generated enough heat to cook the chunky sausages and a couple of rashers. Our new-found friend was happy to sit with us at the picnic table and hoover up any scraps on offer. Darkness fell and it was nice to sit by the roaring fire and savour the peaceful atmosphere. Eventually it got too cold for Nicole and she went inside to lie down, followed by the kitty. I burned the rest of the wood and thought back to the time when we stayed at the semi-wild campsite near Inverkeithing. We bought firewood that night but foraging for additional deadwood was permitted. I was up at 5am the following day and collected a handful of sticks to raise a flame from the glowing embers in the fireplace. Fantastic memories. I'd love to go back there.

The cat had snuggled into the sleeping bags and would have happily stayed all night. We were concerned about potential toileting arrangements and decided to let him out. Our alarms were set for 7am in order to catch sunrise and the glowing ball of fire duly appeared on the horizon the following morning. Breakfast was rolls on cheese and salami and we decided to head down to the beach before the scheduled check-out time of half past ten. The trail ran through the golf course and brought us to the wide sands of Leven. It's a popular section of the Fife Coastal Path and local dog walkers are always out in force. We chuckled as a middle-aged woman (probably Polish) called after her pooch, who was named Ganja. Had we woken up in Jamaica? A refreshing beach wander was just the ticket and the peak of Largo Law was clearly visible in the distance. We often come to Leven for the birdlife and I had visited the Silverburn Estate a couple of times before. Now a growing community facility, the land was previously owned by the Russell family, who established a flax mill here at Silverburn and later ran the huge Tullis-Russell papermill on the edge of Glenrothes. Nicole worked there for a few years until the plant went into administration in 2015. It has now been flattened and presumably a housing development awaits. David Russell senior opened the Silverburn flax mill in the 1850s and the B-listed building is currently disused but earmarked for development in the near future. The campsite headquarters and adjacent café are housed within former workers' cottages, as are a couple of artisan workshops. A lottery grant of £3 million has been received for the regeneration of the old mill and the current plans outline a backpacker's hostel, along with shops and studios. Fife Council has also committed £2 million of funding. The project will create around 130 new jobs, including construction trainee placements for local young people and roles for those with mental health problems. The centre is expected to be complete by 2026, to coincide with the opening of the Leven rail link. It all sounds very exciting. Let's hope it comes to fruition. The Levenmouth area is a corner of Fife with great potential for tourism.

Upon our return to the pod, guess who was waiting for us? We learned from the site manager that the feline visitor is called Archie. He lives in Leven but spends most of his time on the campsite. We still had an hour before check-out and I read through a pamphlet giving a detailed history of Silverburn, including a foreword from the daughter of Sir David Russell - a successful businessman who had merged the family flax business with the papermaking concern to create the mammoth Tullis-Russell complex that became a major Fife employer over the next century. Just to confuse matters, his father (already mentioned) and son were also called David Russell. The flax mill had originally sourced its raw material from Russia but the outbreak of the Crimean War meant the crop had to be grown in Scotland for a while. It apparently fares quite well here. Hostilities over, trade with Russia resumed and Silverburn thrived, despite being a fairly small operation by the standards of the Victorian industrial revolution. The military requisitioned the mill in 1914 to provide uniforms for the Great War and troops were quartered on the estate. When peacetime arrived, David Russell wound down the flax operation to concentrate on his paper business along the road. Silverburn became a pleasant family retreat. Sir David had a great interest in trees and many were planted, including rare and unusual species which continue to thrive to this day. The third David Russell - who hadn't actually lived at Silverburn - gifted the estate to Leven Town Council in 1973 with the strict stipulation that the extensive grounds should remain forever as a quiet area used for the benefit of the public in general and the people of Leven in particular for nature trails, secluded parkland and organised camping. A decade later, Kirkcaldy District Council undertook a job creation Programme to reinstate Silverburn House for use as a residential centre, to be used by groups such as scouts, guides, school parties, caravan rallies etc. A stand-alone wing to the rear was used by crafters to make and show their wares throughout the summer and Christmas/New Year periods. The mansion had previously served as a day centre for patients from Stratheden Hospital, while still in the hands of the Russell family. An empty country house was no good to business-minded folk.

The newly-christened Silverburn Park attracted 20,000 visitors per year and the chief attraction for families was the mini farm and petting zoo housed within the old flax mill. Along with traditional livestock, the compound featured exotic birds, reptiles and insects. Victorian machinery was also on display. The old retting pond was retained. Unfortunately Fife Council closed all animal facilities across the county in 2002 as part of a cost cutting drive. This move saw Silverburn fall into decline and several ambitious schemes to regenerate the place never got past the drawing board. In 2013, Fife Employment Access Trust (FEAT) took over the reins and began the transformation we see today. This charity is based in Glenrothes and helps people with mental health issues return to the workplace. The walled garden has been restored as a restful place for locals to enjoy and the café opens each day at 11am. We were already on our way into Leven by then. After visiting Linda at her optician's shop, we enjoyed a bite to eat at the Caledonian Hotel on the High Street.

Regarding the paper mill, David Russell's nephew David Erdal introduced an employee cooperative, giving workers a major say in how the company was run and prioritising staff welfare. The turn of the century was a tough time for Scottish paper mills due to increased competition from Asia and many domestic operations closed their doors. Tullis-Russel diversified into high-end materials such as fancy chocolate boxes and even produced the CD inlays for a Metallica album. Land was sold to allow the creation of a biomass power plant, in return for cheap energy, which kept TR in the game for a few more years, until the end came. I look forward to seeing the proposed developments at Silverburn, and of course the opening of the Levenmouth railhead. I hope Archie lives to witness it too.

Hotel California

I have always enjoyed the music of the Eagles and saw them in concert at Murrayfield in 1996. They are one of the most successful rock acts of all time and were initially active between 1971 and 1980. Their Greatest Hits compilation is the biggest-selling album in American history, shifting an incredible 38 million units in the States. Follow-up LP Hotel California clocked in at a mere 32 million! After an acrimonious split, singer/drummer Don Henley famously declared the band would never play again until "hell freezes over" - a temperature that was finally achieved down below in 1994 after Satan forgot to switch the heating on. The juggernaut rolled into Edinburgh two years later and I attended with my folks. Mum turned 77 last week and I gifted her tickets for an Eagles tribute show being staged two days after her birthday by Scottish band Hotel California.

The concert was at Carnegie Hall, Dunfermline and my sister Linda came along. The event was a sell-out and I had only been able to obtain back-row seats when I booked a week beforehand. The theatre holds around 400 and sitting up in the balcony was no great hardship. The view of the stage was perfect. Most of the Hotel California guys also perform in a tribute to Free/Bad Company and it was while attending one of those shows that I found out about their main gig. I bumped into a guy I knew and he told me to keep an eye out for an Eagles booking. That night, singer Al King did a superb job of handling Paul Rogers bluesy vocal parts for the Free/Bad Company songs and the whole band played exceptionally well. Now it was time to see an expanded line-up (seven musicians in total) tackle the country/rock groove of the American legends. This meant King shared vocal duties with a couple of others as the Eagles themselves adopted this approach. Lush harmonies are frequently required, whereas The Free/Bad Company Experience was a one-man show as far as the singing was concerned. Al strapped on a guitar for tonight's concert but I suspect this was a case of giving him something to lightly strum when he wasn't required at the mike. The other principal singer was Ed Jones, who also played a bit of rhythm guitar. I observed how his voice was better suited to laid-back numbers such as Peaceful Easy Feeling while King was the go-to man for songs originally sung by Don Henley. Horses for courses! The twin lead guitars of Jim Bowie and Sean Lithgow provided nice embellishments and the rhythm section comprised Mark Anderson (drums) and Des Whitlie (bass) - both fine players. Keyboard flourishes were supplied by Kenny Archibald. The set covered the entire Eagles career and the real band are still active today, minus Glen Frey who sadly passed away in 2016. I must confess I wasn't too familiar with the newer material but there were enough classics to keep me happy.

The solo careers of Henley and Joe Walsh weren't overlooked and songs like Boys of Summer and Rocky Mountain Way are widely known. The first half closed with Take it to the Limit - originally performed by bass player Randy Meisner, who left the Eagles in 1977 and didn't return to the fold after the reformation. Guitarist Don Felder did, but was booted out in 2001, as hell began to warm up again. Ed Jones quipped that Hotel California are "the best of pals" and the faithful replication of the music doesn't extend to the actual personalities. Fifer Al King informed the crowd he'd recently received his bus pass and would be catching the number 19 back to Rosyth after the show. Interval over, the familiar extended intro to Hotel California - perhaps the Eagles best known song - rang out in darkness before the stage lights came on for the immortal first line - on a dark desert highway. It's my personal favourite, along with Life in the Fast Lane. I also adore Witchy Woman. The duelling guitars at the climax to Hotel California were flawlessly executed and a real highlight. As you might expect, the final part of the show was laden with hits and the band left to rapturous applause, Mark Anderson remaining on his drum stool to beat out the pattern for Heartache Tonight which triggered the inevitable encore. They did "one more for the road" with the ballad Desperado - which sent mum home happy. An excellent night of entertainment and only slightly marred by the bloke sitting next to mum who turned up late then sat and rabbited away endlessly to his companion. Fortunately I had two unclaimed seats beside me and we discretely slid one along. On the band's website, I read they had 16 theatre shows scheduled for 2022 (and a further eight as Free & Band Company). Tonight's gig had twice been postponed due to lockdown restrictions. Glad to see the hotel open again for business. You can check out any time you like...

Anatomy Exhibition

I'm now a regular attender of the special exhibitions hosted by the National Museum of Scotland in Chambers Street, Edinburgh. Each event runs for a few months and tickets cost £10. The current display is titled Anatomy: a matter of life an death. Charting 500 years of medical exploration, the exhibition considers the social and medical history surrounding the dissection of human bodies. Edinburgh became a world centre of medicine study in the 18th century and our capital city is still renowned for its degree courses and advanced research. Today's tale was given a macabre twist by examining the murkier side of early Scottish anatomy schools. Just where did all these corpses come from?

It was a fine October morning as I arrived on Princes Street and made the familiar trek up to the museum. I've easily made over 100 visits during my lifetime and I'll never tire of the grand old building - particularly the main entrance hall. I snapped a few photos of this Victorian light-flooded space from the middle and upper balconies just after opening, before heading into the temporary exhibition gallery. I paid at the door and had to physically write my name and email address on a piece of paper before tapping my card. An e-ticket was mailed to me but it seemed a cumbersome process, which sort of defeated the efficiency of the contactless system. Paper-free ticketing which required me to supply my personal details on paper. Someone has to type in the address too. Surely many people walk up on the day and could simply present card or cash and be instantly issued with a receipt? Restrict the email communication to those who have booked in advance. Oh well, I was in and the first display case contained a set of anatomical drawings by legendary polymath Leonardo da Vinci. They were loaned to the museum by (the now late) Queen Elizabeth. One can only guess at the extent of the royal art collection! Da Vinci is reckoned to have dissected 30 humans plus countless animals. The drawings included both types of subjects and the accompanying text said the Italian genius had correctly sketched every foot bone but had made a mistake with the arch - perhaps because he was working from a specimen that had already degraded. It was certainly an impressive opening to the exhibition. Photography was strictly forbidden and I purchased the image below as a postcard for 70p. Somebody somewhere on the planet will have this illustration dropping into their mail box in the near future. A quote on the wall from Da Vinci read "you who say it is better to see a dissection than these drawings, would be right" - this pointed to a theme running through the entire exhibition, right up to the present day. No artwork or textbook can truly replicate the experience of observing the actual human body. A see for yourself approach provides the best insight.

The first purpose-built anatomy theatres emerged towards the end of the 1500s. They were attended by medical students, qualified doctors, dignitaries and curious souls who could afford the entry fee. The official line was that executed people provided the necessary raw material. In the early days of this emerging science, private dissections were allegedly performed upon bodies sourced from hospitals and even the graveyard. Pioneering schools in the field were the universities of Padua (northern Italy) and Leiden (Holland). The latter institution published notes in Dutch, Latin, French and English. The lingua franca for international scientific learning back then was Latin and indeed many students came from other countries to further their knowledge. The other languages were probably for the benefit of non-academic visitors. Artists were often hired to accurately represent the human interior on paper and some of them performed their own dissections in order to gain practice. Artwork depicting the actual ritual of dissection also began to appear on the market. The exhibition contained a selection of charms used to ward off infectious diseases, along with details of home remedies and concoctions. The massive medical strides made in the 17th and 18th centuries did not lead to ordinary people receiving better care. Few working folk sought the advice of medical professionals. There would be rigid class barriers in place here! Edinburgh's first public dissection took place in 1702. David Myles had been hanged for incest and was duly cut up over a period of eight days. The exercise began with a general discourse of the body before moving on to an inspection of key organs such as the stomach, intestines, liver, kidneys, parts of generation, the brain and finally the muscles of the extremities and the resulting skeleton. Phew! By 1726, the first medical school in Edinburgh had opened with support from Edinburgh University and the burgh council. It was part of a plan to develop the city as a seat of anatomical learning. The venture proved successful and the establishment of further institutions increased the demand for fresh bodies. A temporary solution was found in 1752 with the passing of a law enshrining execution followed by dissection as the automatic punishment for murder. Finding voluntary subjects - either from living individuals or the families of the dead - was nigh impossible as the dissection process was regarded as a violation. People had an inkling that more bodies were ending up on the slab than were dangling from the gallows and this provoked public unrest, particularly among the poor. There weren't many wealthy guinea pigs.

Edinburgh had a small population in relation to the demand for corpses and there were tales of the dead being shipped in from further afield. In 1826, a total of 33 bodies packed into salt casks were discovered at Liverpool docks. They were due to be transported to Leith and the dead had all been taken from a local cemetery. Body snatchers were sometimes known rather euphemistically as resurrectionists and the growing practice was part of a sinister trade engulfing Edinburgh. The grave robbers were prepared to source cadavers from well beyond the city boundaries and competition developed between medical schools. The snatchers soon got to know who would pay the highest price for their illicit wares. Coffins began to be placed inside heavy iron mortsafes in an attempt to protect the dead but this was an expensive method not affordable to everyone. Lookouts were hired to keep watch over graveyards but sometimes they fell asleep, or were bribed to look the other way. The most prolific purchaser was Robert Knox, Edinburgh's leading lecturer of anatomy who had even been commissioned to inspect the first duck-billed platypus brought to the city. The flamboyant professor's professional life was flourishing but he would soon become embroiled in a scandal far exceeding the removal of dead people from graveyards. After all, would it not be more efficient to cut the burial process out of the equation and expedite delivery by resorting to murder? Two names appeared on the scene that were to become lodged firmly in public memory - Burke & Hare. Both men originated from Ireland and the literate William Burke was born into a middle-class family in County Tyrone. After the breakdown of his first marriage he decamped to Scotland, becoming an itinerant labourer and working on the construction of the Union Canal. He set up home with Helen McDougal and they later moved to Edinburgh, where Burke became a cobbler. Less is known about William Hare's background and he was described as an uncouth quarrelsome individual. In November 1827, a lodger in Hare's house died while owing £4 back rent. Hare bemoaned the financial loss to his friend Burke and the pair decided to sell the body to one of the local anatomists. A fee of £7.10s was received and apparently the men were told the school would gladly do business again. Thoughts turned to murder and 16 people were suffocated by the deadly duo in a spree that became known as the West Port murders. The victims were poor and either residing in Hare's lodging house or lured there with the promise of a drinking session. Each body netted the killers between £8 and £10. After almost a year of this activity, things went awry when the body of the final victim - an Irish woman named Margaret Docherty - was spotted in the lodging house, lying in a bed of straw. The police were alerted but when they arrived, the corpse had been already taken to Robert Knox. The authorities tracked down Mrs Docherty and the murderers - along with their wives - were taken into custody. Although the police were sure at least one of the four was guilty, there was difficulty in securing enough hard evidence for a conviction.

Two forensic specialists were appointed and they concluded it was probable the victim had been murdered by suffocation, but this could not be medically proven. As for the other 15 poor souls, well they had already been dissected and the remains presumably disposed of. Knox was not prosecuted, which outraged many in Edinburgh. His house was attacked by a mob and his professional standing suffered long-term damage. The only option left to the authorities was to try and persuade one of the alleged culprits to turn king's evidence. Hare was offered immunity from prosecution (a courtesy extended to his wife Margaret) if he provided a statement. He accepted the deal and three formal murder charges were brought against Burke and McDougal. Legal wrangling meant Burke was convicted of just the death of Mrs Docherty but it was enough to warrant a death sentence. McDougal walked free after the jury delivered a not proven verdict. There are no clear accounts of her later life. Burke was hanged at Lawnmarket before an estimated 25,000 onlookers. He was publicly dissected a couple of days later and his cleaned skeleton given to the Edinburgh Medical School, who retain ownership to this day. Rarely seen by the public, Burke's bones greeted visitors as they approached the final parts of the exhibition. I sneaked a quick photo and noted the cast of his death mask in the adjacent cabinet. There was also a note written in Burke's own blood by Professor Alexander Monro during the dissection. Hare was released and fled to Dumfries, but was run out of town. He was taken by local police to the Annan Road and instructed to make his way to the English border. There were no subsequent reliable sightings of him and his eventual fate is unknown, aside from rumours that he died as a beggar in London. Margaret Hare is believed to have returned to Ireland. The aftermath of the case saw legislation introduced that gave anatomists first dibs on people who died without a traceable next of kin in public facilities such as prisons, workhouses and asylums. The new law also permitted living individuals to offer themselves to medical research upon death but only six people in the whole of the UK are known to have done this in the decade following the Burke & Hare crimes. Nowadays of course, attitudes are completely different and the introduction of the NHS prompted a rise in those donating their own bodies to science. By 1975, unclaimed corpses were no longer required by the profession. It's often said about society that certain things had to happen to lead us to where we are today. Well, the advancement of anatomy was one hell of a grisly road.