Edinburgh seventh heaven

The City of Edinburgh has seven peaks within its municipal boundaries: Calton, Corstorphine, Blackford, Craiglockhart, Braid, Castle Rock and Arthur's Seat. Some brave souls attempt them all in a single day but I adopted the more sedate tactic of picking them off one at a time, usually combined with a visit to my monthly German meet-up in the city centre afterwards. Braid Hill was the last on the list and also happened to be the most outlying. I could have taken a bus out to the immediate vicinity but decided instead to walk a circuit from Princes Street and back - a round trip of around eight miles.

The highest point on the undulating Braid summit is known as Buckstone Snab. At 699 feet, it is second only to Arthur's Seat in terms of altitude. I took the bus to Edinburgh straight after work, having changed into more suitable trousers and footwear. I arrived at 1715 and from the city centre, I walked up the busy Lothian Road and branched through the pleasant districts of Bruntsfield and Morningside with their many independent shops and cafes. I had brought my own food as I wanted to maintain a steady pace and enjoy a good hour and a half at the meetup later in the evening. When I hit Braid Road, the pavement began to rise steeply and I guessed this was the start of the actual climb. It was clearly an affluent area with large villas lining the street. A gateway provided access to the hill path and the surface was smooth gravel. This gave way to grass as I neared the summit and I was soon strolling across the plateau, making my way towards the ornate viewfinder - installed in 1995. It showed the positions of the other Edinburgh Hills as well as more distant peaks across central Scotland. Blackford Hill was the nearest and I could instantly tell I was standing at a slightly higher elevation. The hulking Arthur's Seat was the most prominent local landmark and I also had a fine view across the city towards the castle and the Firth of Forth beyond. Behind me stood the Pentland Hills which lie outside the city limits and the artificial ski slope at Hillend was easy to identify. Two golf courses occupy the lower Braid slopes and a popular walk is a circuit around the base. I was going up and over however and took a walled path down the opposite site that ran between the two courses.

My plan was to finish up at the other end of Princes Street and I worked my way towards the Cameron Toll shopping centre. From there a straight road led all the way to the city centre, a trek I did many times as a student teacher from the halls of residence at East Suffolk Road, now converted to high-end apartments. On the way I caught glimpses of Liberton Tower - a square plan structure built around 1450 for the Dalmahoys dynasty. It ceased to function as a dwelling when the 17th century rolled around and was used as a farm store and piggery right up until the 1990s. The Castles of Scotland Preservation Trust was granted a 100-year lease on the condition the building would be fully restored and brought back into residential use. The business model proposed was a luxury holiday let. Accommodation is provided over three floors with the great hall, main living and dining space on the first level. The latter room features an open fire and exposed oak beams. There are two bedrooms: one with a four-poster bed and the other with twin singles. Additionally, the castle has a kitchen, bathroom, and parapet walkway. Splendid views across the city are on offer, with a vista that takes in Edinburgh Castle, the Old Town, Salisbury Crags, Arthur’s Seat and Craigmillar Castle. I tried to walk up to the castle but it was tucked away behind other private properties. I pushed onwards and arrived at the meetup around 2030. I had hoped to find a pint under a fiver but had to be content with Schiehallion cask lager at £5.25. The new normal indeed! I left just after 10pm for a bus home and I was glad I wasn't in town the following evening, when a national rail strike was planned. Might have been a little busier on the four-wheeled public transport.

Johnstone to Kilmacolm

It was the long weekend for our Queen's Platinum Jubilee and I found myself with a free Friday. You can only watch so much of the celebrations on TV and I decided to head over to Glasgow on an early bus to complete the final leg of my Renfrewshire railway walking. I had already approached the small town of Kilmacolm from the Greenock terminus of the Princes Pier Line - built to connect Glasgow with the ocean-going liners that departed from the deeper downstream waters on the Clyde. Today I would be arriving at the same place from the Johnstone end of the route that originally ran via Paisley Canal station.

Services to Greenock ceased in 1959 as part of a rationalisation process. The rapid advances in aviation were affecting the long-distance passenger ship routes and Greenock already had another main line connection to Glasgow. The Princes Pier link had its tracks pared back to Kilmacolm and the demolition of a huge viaduct on the closed section ensured trains would never again reach the coast this way. Another blow came in 1983 when British Rail stopped all services on the remaining line and tore up the tracks. A surprisingly late closure following the mass butchery of the national network committed in the 60s. Services from Glasgow to Paisley Canal have since resumed but the rest of the route was converted to a cycleway. Taking advantage of the public holiday off-peak fares, I rolled into Johnstone station (on the Ayr line) for the third time in recent weeks. A quick traverse of the High Street brought me to the old trackbed that once featured a station called Johnstone North. The line split here for Kilmacolm (via Bridge of Weir) and Lochwinnoch - the latter link closing in 1966 after it was considered to duplicate the stretch of the Ayr line running through today's station at Lochwinnoch. I crossed the A737 dual carriageway on a footbridge and picked up the railway path on the other side. This was the final piece of the jigsaw in my ramblings around these parts. The first three miles were fairly uneventful, passing between fields and the first point of interest was Bridge of Weir. With a population of 5000, I'm not sure whether the historic crossing point over the River Gryffe should be classed as a town or village. Leather tanning was an important trade here and the industry maintains a presence to this day. The railway ran handily parallel to the main drag as I approached the centre and I jumped down on to the pavement for a while. I wanted to have a look at the skewed viaduct that crossed the Gryffe but this proved difficult due to thick vegetation and I could only catch glimpses of the five-arch structure. An attempt at viewing from the other side of the river proved equally frustrating and the fences around a block of new apartments prevented access to the bank. Never mind, I pressed on and was on target to hook up with the hourly bus service that ran back from Kilmacolm.

A flash of red appeared in the distance and I soon came face to face with a lineside art installation by Cornwall sculptor David Kemp. Titled Mile XVII Legion and representing the "lost" company of Roman soldiers, the metal figures stand guard in a rather menacing manner. Legion XVII of the Imperial Roman Army disappeared in the year 9 AD after being sent to deal with troubling tribes in Germanica. What happened to them thereafter has long puzzled historians. Popular legend states they continued into Scotland and fell off the radar around the area where Dunbartonshire meets Renfrewshire. This urban myth has now become cemented in history thanks to popular fiction such as The Eagle of the Ninth and films like Centurion and The Eagle - all based in Scotland. A more plausible theory suggests the legion was destroyed in the Battle of Tetoburg Forest in today's Lower Saxony, Germany. Whatever the fate of these men, the artwork certainly livened up the walk! I soon reached Kilmacolm where the old station house now functions as a gastropub. It was just a short walk to the town centre and a McGill's bus returned me to Johnstone via an interesting place called Quarrier's Village. I had seen the three-quarter mile detour to Quarrier's signposted on the cycleway and had taken a photo of a church tower in the distance. I had decided against further investigation as my planned walk was enough for the day but now I had the opportunity to view the village from the bus as it trundled through the streets. I passed a grand building called Campbell Snowdon House (now a care home) and there was other elaborate architecture in evidence. I knew nothing about Quarrier's Village but quickly surmised it had been built for a specific purpose. But what? Once I had alighted in Johnstone, I found a bench in the town square, whipped out my phone and did some research.

Quarrier's Village was founded in 1876 as the Orphan Homes of Scotland by Glasgow philanthropist William Quarrier. He envisioned a community allowing the young people in his care to thrive in a countryside environment while quartered in a number of grand residences under the supervision of a house mother and father. The village also contained a tuberculosis sanatorium - now converted to residential flats. The children's homes were run along a religious ethos and this is reflected in street names such as Faith Avenue. Changing attitudes towards childcare resulted in far fewer residents at Quarrier's by the 1980s and most of the facilities were sold off as private homes. Today the village offers a restaurant, craft centre, museum and heritage trail. I'll certainly come back for a proper nose around. Amazing how a fairly low-key railway walk opened up such a rich historical vein to explore.

Craigmillar Castle

Edinburgh - my city of birth. I had seen all the familiar sights many times but never walked out to the "other" castle on the south side. Originally constructed a mile outside the town walls, Craigmillar Castle's story is inextricably linked with the capital city but also retains a sense of detachment. I wanted to go for a wander before my monthly German conversation group and Craigmillar Park lies just over three miles from Princes Street. With the meet-up venue handily situated on my return route, it all tied nicely together.

The navigational strategy was simple. Start on North Bridge and keep going. I arrived in the city centre by bus. The train hadn't been an option tonight as ScotRail are currently running a restricted timetable and the last service from Edinburgh to Fife departs at 8pm. A general shortage of drivers coupled with a dispute that has led to existing staff refusing to work overtime. Perhaps not the most auspicious start to our newly nationalised rail network. The sun was out in the city centre and I turned on to North Bridge to begin tonight's mission. A two-mile straight walk - via several changes of street name - would bring me to the Cameron Toll shopping centre. This stretch I knew very well. I did my teacher training in Edinburgh and resided in the student halls just a stone's throw from the Cameron Toll. I often walked into the city centre when I didn't have the money (or couldn't find the spare change) for one of the many bus services that run up and down this long drag. I planned to have a swatch at the old gaff on the way back. Although I did a lot of walking in my student days, it was nearly always as a means to reach a destination such as a pub, railway station, library etc. Pleasure rambling didn't figure highly - although I did the odd bit here and there. The hike up to Cameron Toll was a mixture of the familiar and the new. With a few decades of life experience behind you, it becomes clear that no city stays the same. You could probably make the same argument about most people. I had only ever walked towards the city centre from my student digs and hadn't ever visited Craigmillar Park, which lies just a short distance behind the shopping centre. An entrance was cut into a stone wall and signed as Lady Susan's Walk - apparently named after Miss Susan Gilmour (born 1870) - daughter of the Earl of Beauchamp - who used the path to wander from her home at Inch House to Craigmillar Castle. The two estates had become intertwined over the years and The A-listed Inch House was purchased by Edinburgh Corporation in 1946 and now functions as a community hub. The aristocrats of course led very separate lives from ordinary citizens and wealthy estates were routinely surrounded by substantial walls and often screened by tall trees. The path took me towards the modest summit of Craigmillar Hill, although the elevation was sufficient to open up nice views to the north and south.

I photographed the castle from various angles and walked up to the entrance gate. It was after office hours but the entrance gate was open and gave me access to the lawn in front of the curtain wall. Craigmillar is regarded as one of the best preserved medieval fortresses in the land and construction is believed to have begun in the late 1400s, with major additions made throughout the following century. There are strong connections to Mary, Queen of Scots, who stayed on two occasions. On her second visit, Mary was in poor health following a serious illness. She gave an audience to the French ambassador, who had arrived for the baptism of Prince James. Several of her noblemen suggested that her unpopular husband Henry Stuart (Lord Darnley) could be removed, either by divorce or other means. Mary had refused to grant Darnley the Crown Matrimonial, which would have made him the successor to the throne if she died childless. Mary's private secretary David Rizzio was violently stabbed to death in 1566 by Darnley and his confederates in the presence of the pregnant queen. Rizzio was rumoured to be the father of Mary's unborn child and the murder was allegedly part of Darnley's bid to install himself as a potential future monarch. Eight months after the birth of James, Darnley himself was bumped off. Smothered with no visible marks on the body. Suspicion fell upon James Hepburn - Earl of Bothwell - who became Mary's third husband. He was put on trial but acquitted. Bothwell would eventually meet a squalid end in a Danish prison while Mary was executed at Fotheringhay Castle in 1587. Who knows what machinations took place at Craigmillar and whether or not they had a direct bearing on subsequent events. To say our history is murky is quite an understatement! After exploring the perimeter of the castle, I made my way back towards town and arrived at the Pear Tree for the meet-up. A sign on the bar informed me all purchases were strictly card only. This was the first time I'd seen a pub refusing hard currency. A completely unnecessary measure in my opinion. I ordered a pint glass of coke and £3.50 was magically zapped out of my account.

The world was completely different when I spent the 95/96 academic year at Buchanan Hall, East Suffolk Road, training to be a maths and computing teacher. Five buildings surrounded an expansive central grassy area and the site was originally developed as Scotland's first residence for exclusively female students attending Edinburgh University, Edinburgh Art College and Moray House College of Education. Sold off to private developers around the turn of the century, the somewhat austere student accommodation was converted into modern apartments. I found one flat advertised for 300 grand and another available to rent at £1850 per month. This represented a substantial increase on the £60 a week my half-board and lodgings cost. No doubt the university swelled their coffers by divesting themselves of an asset that was in need of modernisation and I can only assume students are now housed in a box-like structure elsewhere in the city, built from the proceeds with a tidy sum left over. I had been happy here, although the dual subject workload was heavy and I spent most evenings behind the old-style writing bureau in my tiny single room. There were no ensuite facilities but I did enjoy a soak in the large cast-iron bath tubs along the corridor. Meals were served in a traditional dining hall and incoming communication was via the ancient payphone downstairs, which I often had to answer as my room was well with earshot, then go and knock on someone's door to inform him/her of the call. It's easy to forget that virtually nobody - barring a few nerds - was online in 1995. Email addresses barely existed among the general population and job /college applications were submitted by post. The information superhighway was starting to appear on the horizon but most people were stuck at the traffic lights. I consider it an advantageous position to have been fully conversant in both worlds. I reflected upon all these changes that had occurred of the last quarter of a century as I had a quick look around the old quadrangle. Everything changes, even the pace of change.