Aviemore Outing

Nicole and I began birdwatching a few years ago and the trip to RSPB Loch Garten (near Aviemore) has become something of an annual pilgrimage. It is one of the few places in Scotland where sightings of the crested tit are common. The Loch Garten reserve is nestled within the vast Abernethy Forest which itself is a protected environment. The crested tit thrives among the Caledonian pines but Loch Garten is best known for a much larger inhabitant - the osprey. The area plays a key role in this bird's conservation history.

Previous visits to the reserve usually occurred when we happened to be up north and took the opportunity to nip off the A9 for a few miles. Today we were setting out on a day trip that would include lunch in Aviemore. I also took the opportunity to schedule a visit to the Cairngorm Brewery shop on the edge of town. The weather forecast was mixed and conditions were fine while driving up the A9 but we were greeted in Aviemore by rain showers. The main route to the Highlands is in the process of being converted to dual carriageway status and it was an easy cruise from Perth to Dunkeld. It looks as if the easy bits are being done first, which makes logical sense as this strategy allows benefits to be realised quickly. Major civil engineering challenges lie ahead, particularly in the areas where the existing road was blasted out of the rocky landscape or where deep gorges are spanned by a single-carriageway crossing. But it's good to know firm plans are in place to complete the job all the way to Inverness. We popped into Aviemore Station to use the toilet facilities and I admired the fine Victorian architecture. We once came up here by train in order to take a ride on the Strathspey Heritage Railway which departs from an integrated platform at the mainline station. Steam locomotives traverse 10 mile of track on the old route to Forres that closed back in 1965. The preserved railway opened in 1978, initially to the hostility of British Rail, who refused access to Aviemore Station thereby forcing the volunteer organisation to construct their own terminus elsewhere. This situation seems absurd nowadays as steam trains are a major attraction and the Highlands are heavily dependent on tourism. The situation was resolved in 1998 when a remodelling of Aviemore Station included a bay for heritage tours. The national network had of course been privatised by this time and stuffy attitudes had thawed.

The line passes through the stunning and largely original station at Boat of Garten before terminating at Broomhill, where the replica buildings double for the fictional Glenbogle in the popular TV series Monarch of the Glen. A proposed 3-mile extension to the Morayshire town of Grantown on Spey is currently beset by delays due mainly to the logistics of crossing the A95. The road has been realigned since the original railway was lifted and discussions continue. It makes more economical sense for the line to run between two sizeable towns, each offering visitor attractions. It would be a great shame if the project was buried due to a single pinch point. We exited the mainline station and sought a place to eat (and shelter). Macdui's seemed a good bet and there were plenty of tables available, the restaurant having just opened its doors. We were ushered to a window seat and I ordered a plate of seafood chowder to start, followed by a main course of beef chilli nachos. I had purchased a newspaper earlier and we read our way through the weekend supplements, waiting for the rain to ease, which it eventually did. Off we headed to the Cairngorm Brewery which is located in a small industrial estate on the outskirts of town. As we drove through Aviemore, it occurred to us that - like Fort William on the west coast - the town isn't a pretty destination but offers a good range of services while functioning as a base for walkers and climbers, as well as general tourists. Indeed, we had spent a couple of nights at the local youth hostel a few years ago as part of a navigational course in the nearby mountains. As I pulled into the brewery car park, my sixth sense was alerted by the familiar toot of a train whistle. Moments later, a steam locomotive swept by pulling a rake of carriages alongside the industrial units. Clearly this was not a bad place to work! We were the only visitors to the brewery shop and the full range of bottled ales was on display, along with the customary merchandise. A small bar with ale pumps was unfortunately closed but I quickly began my inspection of the shelves. A couple of Cairngorm beers (e.g. Trade Winds) are widely available in supermarkets across the land and I therefore sought out the brews that were either unfamiliar, or ones that I hadn't tasted for a while.

I grabbed half a dozen Cairngorm bottles and augmented this with a couple of ales from the Loch Ness Brewery - another Aviemore concern. The business was rescued from bankruptcy by Cairngorm, who have now developed a full range under the Loch Ness banner. Tasting sessions and tours were unavailable due to lingering Covid restrictions but - to be honest - I'm just as happy to visit a brewery shop and buy some stock direct from the producer. Naturally, Cairngorm Sheep Shagger's Gold sat proudly among my purchases. We drove out to Boat of Garten in the far corner of Inverness-shire, Scotland's largest county. The Loch Garten reserve lies a couple of miles further on, just inside Abernethy Forest where gnarled, lichen-encrusted Scots pine trees abound, interspersed with other species such as juniper, rowan, birch and the ubiquitous carpeting of heather. Besides the Caledonian pinewood, the wider Abernethy National Nature Reserve includes moorland, wetlands and mountains, indeed stretching all the way to the top of Ben Macdui - Scotland's second highest peak. Today's woodland is a remnant of the great Caledonian pine forest and over half the trees are native to the landscape. The site is carefully managed by the RSPB as it is home to over 70 species of birds, including relative rarities such as Scottish crossbill, crested tits and capercaillie. The Loch Garten visitors centre is seasonal and hadn't yet opened for the year but there were no physical barriers to visitors. We strolled up to the feeding areas where a few people were coaxing coal tits to take grains from their hands. Nicole joined in the fun but - alas - none came to me when I stuck my paw out. Perhaps I just don't have the patience to remain stationary for a sufficient length of time. We always managed to spot the cresties on previous visits but there was no sign of them today. Nothing is guaranteed in nature, which is part of the appeal, but it was a little disappointing to drive such a long distance and leave empty handed. Nevertheless, it was pleasing to watch the smaller birds buzz around and we had an excellent sighting of a woodpecker on a tree trunk.

I've therefore been forced to insert a picture of a crested tit from last year. Largely confined to ancient pine plantations, they forage on trunks and large branches for insects and seeds. Only 1500 pairs currently breed in the UK, but at least they have a secure environment at Abernethy. Far fewer ospreys raise young in this country and Loch Garten played a pivotal part in their return from extinction on these shores. Excessive egg collecting in Victorian times led to a catastrophic decline and by the outbreak of WW1 it is thought the bird had died out across the UK. Fast forward to the 1950s and ospreys naturally made their way across from Scandinavia to Scotland and a pair has nested at Loch Garten since 1959, thereby establishing the site as one of the most popular conservation locations in the country. To date, over two million people have visited. Around 250 nesting pairs of ospreys are thought to be spread across Britain today and the spectacular fish-catcher now sits on the amber list of endangered species. Ironically, many former egg collectors are now firmly on the other side of the fence, perhaps proving there was nothing inherently nasty about their erstwhile pastime, more a case of not knowing any better, or choosing not to think more deeply about how their actions impacted upon the bird population. Most likely, the interest had been passed on from a parent or grandparent. Indeed my own grandad had a varied collection. Time was pressing and we headed back to the A9 via Carrbridge. My planned toilet stop in the village was thwarted due to a vandalism related closure. You'd scarcely believe such behaviour existed in a sleepy Highland location and shows there are rural Scots who have a chip on their shoulder and can't comprehend the concept of taking pride in your hometown. Plain sad. The general store furnished me with a supply of attractive postcards and a couple of snacks for the homeward journey. The main reason for detouring this way was to have a look at the famous packhorse bridge, a structure we first spotted by chance a few years ago while passing through. It is the oldest stone bridge in this part of the country.

Built in 1717, the famous landmark was severely damaged by a storm in 1829 when the River Dulnain was in muckle spate, leaving the bridge in the condition we see today. Both ends are fenced off and the arch is considered highly unstable. You have to wonder if sneaking across is a rite of passage for local teenagers. Certainly a risky undertaking! A packhorse bridge traditionally consisted of a single narrow arch and the parapets were deliberately kept low in order to allow panniers to pass over them. The crossing at Carrbridge was often referred to as the Funeral Bridge, not on account of travellers plunging to their deaths but because the structure allowed coffins to be carried across the river to the local cemetery. Today the bridge is much photographed and the white waters churning below the precarious arch is certainly an impressive sight. It was time to shoot back down the road and just over two hours later we arrived home. A sticky mess was oozing out of my fleece pocket. I'd purchased a Lindt chocolate egg in Carrbridge as a little treat and had totally forgotten about it. Perhaps a reminder from the osprey spirits that they're always watching, and miss nothing.

Greenock to Kilmacolm

Following my enjoyable exploration of the old railway between Paisley and Johnstone, I decided another trip to Renfrewshire was in order and this time I opted to start in Greenock and Port Glasgow (the two towns basically run into each other). A junction at Johnstone split the railway into sections for Kilbirnie and Greenock. Today I would be exploring the latter of these connections. You may be wondering why I had decided to skip to the other end of the line instead of continuing my expedition from Johnstone. A couple of reasons: I had unfinished urbex business in Greenock and I also wanted to check out the abandoned tenements streets in Port Glasgow I'd seen featured on several Facebook groups. Both these activities would be perfectly suited to the glorious weather forecast and I was at the bus stop at the end of my street early on a Sunday morning, raring to go.

But the bus didn't come. After waiting almost an hour and considering my options, I headed back home and jumped in the car. Taking the next bus didn't really suit the train times from Glasgow Central and a knock-on delay would have occurred. Instead, I hit the motorway and arrived in Port Glasgow at roughly same time I'd originally calculated. I knew the approximate location of the empty estate and soon spotted the eerie signs of unoccupied dwellings. I parked close by and and wandered in. It soon became apparent I had the whole place to myself. The area isn't a complete ghost town. Literally a couple of cars were parked kerbside and I'd read in a newspaper article that a handful of tenants were grimly hanging on. Plus the adjoining streets were populated as normal. But it was damn near as you could get to a deserted urban quarter and even the simple act of strolling around without the usual impediment of vehicles proved unsettling. Many windows were broken, or frames were missing entirely. Entrance doors were shuttered in steel, some of these defences had been kicked down. Peering through openings at ground level revealed the usual chaotic mess of vandalism and decay. I should imaging local youths use the place as a hangout and perhaps some of the down & out fraternity gather here. This was another reason why I scheduled this explore for a Sunday morning. Not the sort of activity I'd carry out as dusk was falling. I have visited many individual derelict buildings but this was the first time I'd toured an actual community with the infrastructure largely intact, as opposed to scattered crumbling remains of villages deserted for a century or more. It truly was a fascinating experience and the presence of a ruined church and primary school added the township feel. This wasn't just houses, but a vanished city/town district. A perfect start to the day. That said, I wouldn't go back as the atmosphere could never be replicated to the same extent. I'll cherish the memory instead.

Why did such a prime central location end up like this, while the wider town itself remains full of life? Some reading was required. The streets once thronged with the families of dock workers and the school was erected in 1887, followed by the gothic-style church 15 years later. The present situation seems to have arisen from a long-running dispute between the landlords and the local authority (Inverclyde Council), whose website states there are 430 individual flats in the scheme, none of which are privately owned. The occupancy rate across the estate is less than 10% and many of the 45 tenement blocks are completely empty. A regeneration plan for the Clune Park area was approved by Inverclyde Council in May 2011. The publicly stated aim of that plan was the demolition of all properties within the estate to allow regeneration to commence. Reading between the lines, my guess is the landlords are happy to accept a trickle of rent coming in from the few remaining residents while holding out for a better offer from the council. Most likely, the owners have long ceased providing beyond the most basic property maintenance. Meanwhile the authority is left with a decaying eyesore and public pressure to do something about it will be mounting. I wonder how this game will pan out? From a social perspective, it is sad when housing becomes tied up in a situation like this while many families struggle to find anything resembling a decent home. Those still toughing it out in their flats can't possibly feel safe around here. Fire raising will be a particular worry. It was time to move on and the nearby Newark Castle was on my itinerary for the day. I had noticed something else while cruising around in search of the Clune Park scheme. A couple of tall metallic statues of hammer wielding men. Certainly something to do with the area's shipping past. Might as well stop for a closer look.

Having the car to whisk me around meant I was saving a lot of time and it seemed likely I could expand my railway walking expectations which - until now - hadn't stretched beyond the outskirts of Port Glasgow. The sculptures - although standing tall - were clearly still undergoing installation and a fence surrounded the project. Assorted machinery and vehicles were present but I was able to poke my phone through the bars to obtain a nice photo of the steel men gleaming in the sun. They appear to be swinging caulking mallets or sledgehammers and it's worth remembering that Port Glasgow's name stems from the days when the Clyde estuary wasn't navigable to large boats beyond this point. The situation changed in the mid-19th century when the river was dredged to allow ships to sail right up to the city centre. But for many years prior to this development, Port Glasgow functioned exactly as stated on the tin. Following the deepening and widening of the Clyde further inland, Port Glasgow became a centre of shipbuilding, now that vessels were no longer unloading cargo here. This industry fell into decline in the post-war decades and only one yard remains. A handful of people were looking at the artwork and taking pictures. I overheard one man describe them as the Skelpies and immediately assumed this was a humorous local adaptation of the iconic Kelpies over in Falkirk. As it turned out, the project has actually been given this title and is already marked on Google Maps! The towering installation stands 10 metres tall and has a combined weight of 14 tons. The estimated cost is half a million pounds and the long-term ambition is to utilise the waterfront for public access and create walking routes and activity areas. Sounds like a good plan to me! A little further upstream next to the shipbuilding yard stood Newark Castle. It was difficult to take a photo that didn't have engineering contraptions in the background but an outlying building was framed by blue sea and sky. The shipyards on the eastern side of the castle were dismantled in the 1980s and great views are now available across the Firth of Clyde if you take a walk in this direction. Dating from 1478, the original tower house was built within a walled enclosure. The corner tower (pictured below) - later converted to a dovecot - is all that now remains of these outer defences. It is reckoned there would have been ancillary buildings such as a bakehouse and brewery within the walls.

The castle was expanded in the late 1500s. An east wing with the main entrance door close to the main block links it to the original tower house which was suitably modified, and a short west wing connects to the gatehouse. The baronial mansion has attractive features including crow stepped gables and north corners embellished with turrets. At the centre of the north wall, a stairwell supported on corbelling gives access to the upper floor. The elegant building is virtually intact today and has reclaimed its prominent position on the shore since the decline of the surrounding industry. Now in the care of Historic Environment Scotland, the public can visit on a seasonal basis. It does look like an interesting place to explore and I'm sure I'll return for a leisurely tour at some point in the future. Today, however, the castle was closed and in any case it was time to move on. Some abandoned railway tunnels to seek out.

Today's main line from Glasgow to Greenock forks just beyond Port Glasgow station with the right-hand branch running via Greenock Central to the coastal terminus at Gourock. The other line skirts the edges of Greenock along a ridge of land, serving a couple of suburban stations before heading out to Wemyss Bay, where the ferry connection to Bute awaits. There was however a third route coming in from Johnstone via Bridge of Weir, the very one I am in the process of exploring. It led eventually to a splendid terminal station at Princes Pier, where passengers could board Clyde steamers. Local services to Bridge of Weir and Kilmacolm were withdrawn in 1983 but onward options to Greenock Lynedoch had ceased in the late 50s. There would have been little demand for such an extension given the availability of the other main routes from Glasgow. The non-stop boat trains continued to use the line all the way to Princes Pier until the mid 60s but the tracks were subsequently cut back to Kilmacolm. A partial reinstatement occurred in 1971 when a container port was established and freight trains used the route beyond Greenock Lynedoch, joining via an existing freight line from the docks. This section contained several tunnels and a single track was laid along the centre of the bore to allow the bulky freight to squeeze through. The arrangement didn't last as increasing container sizes rendered the freight line inoperable by 1991. The rusting tracks are still in situ throughout the town, beyond the limits of the official walking path and a couple of the tunnels are readily accessible to intrepid walkers.

The Greenock railway tunnels are a great urban explore and I did this the year before the pandemic - which makes it seem like a different age. You navigate deep stone-lined cuttings and the presence of actual tracks enhances the feeling of abandoned industry and engineering. The undoubted highlight is the 420-yard Trafalgar Street tunnel which runs on an S-shaped curve. Unfortunately the final tunnel leading down to Princes Pier is barred by a steel fence. The lack of easy access is a pity because this tunnel is a monster 700 yards on a tight curve and must therefore be pretty dark in the middle. It actually crosses the bore of the live line to Gourock and local legend insists you can feel the rumblings of nearby trains through the earth if you stand in the right place. Nevertheless, a good mile of decaying track can be walked and it was certainly one of my all-time favourite explores. I had gained access near the site of Lynedoch Station through a gap in the fence beside an embankment and I walked the downhill gradient towards the pier. Progress in the other direction wasn't possible as a viaduct was barred by a high steel fence. This didn't perturb me at the time as there was plenty to see elsewhere. I already knew from studying the OS map that two tunnels lay a little further to the west beyond the viaduct, hemmed in by residential streets. I resolved to try and find them if I ever found myself back in Greenock. Well, here I was, with time on my hands and a nice day for it. I cruised around in search of potential access points and pulled into a car-park for a tower block. I could see the railway boundary fence across a patch of rough ground and made my way across. A high metal gate was padlocked and seemingly used as a vehicular entry point to the cutting below where tracks ran among the vegetation. I was obviously looking at the correct line but there didn't appear to be an easy way in. Attempting to squeeze below the gate was one possibility but I feared I was 20 years too late for this option. It did look as though others had tried this as some of the earth had been scraped away. Instead I walked down the the nearby rail bridge over the road but the spiked security fencing had all the angles covered. The abutment on the other side offered a solution. I could see few feet of unguarded stone wall between the bridge and the garden of the neighbouring property. The embankment didn't look difficult to scale and there were handy footholds in the form of sawn-off tree-stumps, plus pieces of metal sticking out the bridge stonework. Something to grab makes all the difference when negotiating a steep muddy slope. Anything that can take a fraction of your body weight makes it so much easier to prevent your feet slipping. I may be getting rather old for this sort of thing but I reckoned I could be up there in no time.

I swung my leg over the wall and sat atop while checking for a safe place to drop down on the other side. Just as importantly, was there a suitable way of repeating the process on the return trip? Affirmative on both counts. I was in. I pushed my way through some minor overgrowth. A dog barked behind a fence somewhere in an adjoining garden but otherwise I proceeded into the wide cutting unchallenged. This, I thought to myself, is exactly why I seek out these places. I had a large derelict place to myself in the sunshine and its isolated location and status of being reclaimed by nature offered the possibly of wildlife making an appearance as I poked around and soaked up the industrial heritage. I picked a route along the sleepers and passed by an impressively high retaining wall on my way towards the twin tunnel portals. The dock branch emerged from the left while the other tunnel once carried the passenger connection from Johnstone. After this point, they merged into one railway bound for Princes Pier. It was the freight line that was repurposed as a shipping container artery and this tunnel looked the fresher of the two. Tracks continued inside but I was unable to enter due to the presence of a heavy-duty (and locked) steel gate. There was however ample room to feed my wrist between the spars and take a nice backlit photo of the interior. I could see light spilling in at the far end and the brickwork and floor of the tunnel was mainly dry. To my right, the old passenger route emerged at a slightly higher elevation and the trackbed ran down to where the junction must have been. This tunnel was clearly the more neglected of the two, as you would expect. It was also barred. I wasn't too disappointed at not gaining access. I had already been inside other tunnels on the same route and - in any case - the buzz I received from discovering a truly abandoned location tucked away inside an urban setting massively outweighed any satisfaction I could have gained from stepping through a portal. Both tunnels pass below residential streets and you wonder how many of those living above know that trains once burrowed beneath their homes. I would assume an annual safety inspection is made, hence the access gate further down the line. Otherwise this was a top example of a forgotten railway.

Things now took on a more sedate turn as I drove along to the starting point of the tarmac walking and cycling route to Johnstone via Kilmacolm and Bridge of Weir. My original intention had been to wander to the outskirts of Port Glasgow then back along the seafront to catch a train back to the city, then a bus to Fife Having the car freed up more time and I calculated I could walk the six miles to Kilmacolm then jump on a bus back to Greenock. I would comfortably be home for tea. It immediately became apparent that this must have been a scenic route as the line ran along a high ridge of land overlooking the Firth of Clyde. Tree growth has obscured the panorama today but there were a number of great viewpoints to enjoy. I soon had to descend into a gorge where only the rump of a viaduct remained. The path led down to the valley floor before climbing back up the other side. Internet research confirmed the existence of the "Nine Arches" Viaduct that was apparently blown up in 1970. Photographs show a typical all-stone construction and usually they were left to stand, unless they blocked the way of major development, which clearly wasn't the case out here. Now we know why the container trains of the 80s didn't approach from this direction! A couple of other deviations from the original trackbed were required, mainly due to the presence of modern housing schemes. But once I was free of the Greenock/Port Glasgow sprawl, the surroundings became decidedly bucolic and the route weaved a path between green fields. I was sloping gently downwards towards Kilmacolm and emerged into a quiet residential cul-de-sac where the station had once stood. A short stroll brought me to the town centre and I purchased sandwiches from the Co-op and found a bench on the central square. I got my bearings with the bus stops and had a lovely seat in the sun as I waited out the 40 minutes for the return service.

I had a quick look at a couple of old churches and also checked out a monument commemorating the opening of the town water works in 1878. Curiously, the inscription spelled Kilmacolm with an extra "l" in the middle. I wonder what prompted the alteration. Come to think of it, I'm not sure how the locals pronounce Kilmacolm. I'm hazarding a guess that the stress falls on the "Kil" prefix. Must ask in a shop when I return to pick up the next leg of the footpath. I had enjoyed myself immensely today and felt I had packed in a lot of varied activity. Discovering the Skelpies, viewing a historic castle, strolling around an eerie abandoned housing estate, intrepidly tracking down the location of two old tunnels and walking right up to the gaping mouths. Finally a pleasant leg-stretcher along an old railway offering fine nautical vistas, which alone would have been a worthy day out. I jumped on a bus back to Greenock and judged where I should hop off in order to find my car. I alighted right next to Cappielow Park, home of Morton Football Club. I remember travelling through in the early 90s with Cowdenbeath for a Scottish Cup tie. Cowden were cruising 2-0 with a full 90 minutes on the clock yet somehow ended up drawing 2-2. The £20 I'd staked at the generous odds of 11-2 would have kept me in beer for quite a while. We lost the bloody replay too! The road took me by the decrepit bridge that carried the Princes Pier connection. Did I have one last shot left in the tank? A similar assault on the abutment looked possible but I opted instead to squeeze through a narrow gap in the wire fence and bounced up to the top of the embankment. A veritable jungle greeted me and the surface appeared to be a mudbath. The tunnel portal lay along there somewhere but I decided I'd seen enough for the day and besides, I'd never trump the experience of the cavernous cutting at the other end. But I might be drawn back one day.

Paisley to Johnstone walk

With a population of 70000, Paisley is Scotland's largest town. Nicole and I once came through to the farmers market as her friend was running a stall. Other than that, my only other trip to Paisley was for a football match way back in 1989. I'd had a return visit on my radar for a while as I'd identified a railway path running through Renfrewshire down to Kilbirnie just across the Ayrshire boundary. I earmarked the 4-mile section of old trackbed to the town of Johnstone as a useful first leg. This would also give me ample time to explore Paisley itself and have a look around Johnstone. Off I headed on a bright Sunday morning at the tail end of February. Cairneyhill to Glasgow by bus then the short walk to Central Station to catch a train to Paisley Gilmour Street. I reached my destination before 10 o'clock.

Leaving the station, I noticed the grand former Post Office building now operating as a Wetherspoons pub. Two years ago I would have resolved to stop for a pint on the way back. In fact, I would probably have planned a visit in advance as I was always an admirer of 'Spoons conversions of old banks, cinemas etc. Even more so in a place like this that doesn't have a stellar reputation for cask ale provision. But I haven't set foot inside Wetherspoons since the pandemic as I didn't like the way owner Tim Martin regarded his staff as being completely disposable. I'm not saying it's a lifelong boycott, but I'm certainly giving the establishments a wide berth these days. Paisley has plenty history to absorb in its town centre and I wanted to take some of this in before locating the railway path which begins at Canal Street Station. Plus, the sun was out and I had the opportunity to take some nice photos. A short stroll brought me to to cenotaph which features a mounted crusader atop a 25-feet high granite pillar. Unveiled in 1924, the 20,000 onlookers would not have known that extra names would have to be inscribed on war memorials across the land a couple of decades henceforth. As I write, the grim prospect of WW3 is unfolding following Russia's full-scale invasion of the Ukraine. At the moment, the conflict is confined to that area but it has developed along the lines of surely they won't do this, such a move would be a step too far, no I can't see that happening...and so forth. But the Russian war machine rolls on and will Vladimir Putin really reach the point where he declares ok that's it, I'll just halt right here. That's not how these guys tick, especially if they've had a run of early, largely unchallenged successes. Let's hope a resolution can be found before it's too late. The White Cart Water flows through the centre of Paisley and the pleasant Dunn Square sits on the western bank, with the town hall and abbey (pictured above) on the other side. A number of statues and memorials can be found in the square.

Paisley Abbey's origins date back to the 12th century but by 1800 the buildings had fallen into serious disrepair. A restoration programme was launched in mid Victorian times that continued almost up until the present day. The modern church is an attractive landmark fully deserving of its prime riverside location. An imposing statue of Queen Victoria stands in Dunn Square but my eyes were drawn to a much smaller sculpture showing a small child clutching a doll. This was the memorial for the Glen Cinema tragedy that occurred in 1929 and resulted in the deaths of 71 children. Hundreds of youngsters were packed in to see a Hogmanay matinee when a film cannister accidentally caught fire in the projection room. Although this was quickly extinguished, clouds of smoke billowed into the auditorium and provoked mass panic and a stampede towards the exits. Sadly, the fire doors were designed to open inwards which led to bodies piling up behind them and emergency services were unable to break through without great difficulty. There are also reports suggesting some of the escape routes were padlocked. Most of the casualties were recorded as having died from asphyxia by crushing. Safety regulations were tightened in the wake of the disaster and many local authorities introduced compulsory inspections of cinemas. The Cinematograph Act 1909 was amended to ensure picture houses had sufficient exits that opened outwards and fitted with push bars. A limitation was also placed on the seating capacity. None of this brought the dead back but it is important that lessons are learned from such events. Incredibly, similar issues were partly responsible for the death toll at the Bradford football stadium fire some 60 years down the line. I paid my respects quietly and moved on.

Paisley - along with other parts of Renfrewshire - was at one time famous for its weaving and textile industries. As a consequence, the Paisley pattern has long symbolic associations with the town. The introduction of mechanised looms led to the establishment of larger mills and the traditional cottage weavers were forced out of business. The town specialised in the production of cotton sewing thread and the BBC made an excellent recent documentary about this process, entitled The Town That Thread Built. By the 1950s, the industry had diversified into the making of synthetic threads but production diminished rapidly as a result of cheaper imports from overseas and the establishment of mills in India and Brazil. A majestic leftover from the manufacturing days is the Anchor Mills block on the banks of the White Cart Water. It can be regarded as a rare and spectacular survivor of the 19th-century glory days of Scotland’s international, entrepreneurial and manufacturing history. Restored in the early 2000s and converted to luxury apartments, this A-listed building is testament to Paisley’s time as a global leader in the thread industry. Completed in 1886, the domestic finishing mill ceased to function in the late 1980s and progressively fell into a serious state of dereliction by reason of neglect, vandalism and the extreme effects of the Scottish climate to the extent that total demolition became a realistic concern. Plans were put forward in 1995 to save the iconic building and find a sustainable use. It certainly looks impressive set against the tumbling White Cart rapids and is a must-see for visitors with even the slightest interest in the Industrial Revolution. Frustratingly, the sun was streaming straight into my camera lens as I attempted a photograph and I firmly resolved to try again later in the day. From here, I wandered through the streets towards Paisley Canal Station. A branch line from the Glasgow direction currently terminates here but the tracks formerly continued towards a junction near Johnstone along the path I would shortly be walking upon. Passenger services at Paisley Canal ceased in 1983, only to be reinstated seven years later from Glasgow Central. A slightly different location was chosen for a new station as the original site was occupied by a restaurant. No onward service provision was ever introduced and I proceeded to join the tarmac strip that led out of town where the railway had once been.

I passed what I presumed to be the scant remains of Paisley West Station and followed the gently contouring trackbed. It was a beautiful day for walking, albeit a cold one. Old railway lines usually offer a pleasing contrast being urban and rural terrain and it's my favourite way to wander. The path took me to the site of a former junction near the village of Elderslie. At this point the Paisley Canal route joined today's main line to Ayr. This busy meeting of railways once boasted a four platform station. I walked alongside the current line for a few hundred yards before passing through part of Elderslie and picking up another old trackbed that looped around the north of Johnstone and split into branches for Greenock via Bridge of Weir and Kilbirnie along the western shore of Castle Semple Loch. The latter route met the present Ayr line at a junction south of Kilbirnie. It takes quite a bit of time studying online OS maps to untangle all of this!

I crossed the Black Cart Water on a high bridge affording a nice view of the rapids below. Eventually I hit the far end of Johnstone and I was able to cut through a supermarket car park and take a pedestrian walkway above the river, linking the store to the town centre. I located the High Street and found a spot in Houstoun Square to enjoy my packed lunch. An elaborate fountain stood nearby but was unfortunately disconnected. There was also a fine cast iron bandstand. After eating, I had a look at a couple of information boards in order to learn about the town's history. It began life in the late 18th century as a planned settlement by a bridge across the Black Cart Water. The current was sufficiently strong to provide power for industrial machinery and the population rapidly topped 5500. Today it stands at around three times that figure. One paragraph on the text panel took me by surprise. The Glasgow, Paisley and Ardrossan Canal was mentioned. I hadn't been aware of such a waterway. The clue had obviously been evident in Paisley Canal Station but I had subconsciously assumed this reference was local to the town. I was obviously now reading about a far bigger project.

The cogs in my brain were now spinning faster than any waterwheel. If there had been a lengthy canal in this area, why hadn't I noticed any evidence on my walk? Had I failed to spot the tell-tale signs? Was the old watercourse now completely filled in? Where were the bridges, cuttings and embankments associated with major civil engineering works? The answer of course had lain under my feet all along and explained the curving nature of the path. The canal was converted to a railway line in the 1880s when it became clear the original objective of reaching the port of Ardrossan by barge would never be achieved. Moreover, the River Clyde had by this time been dredged to enable heavy shipping to sail right up to the city of Glasgow. A half-built canal was surely doomed and laying down the rail tracks was probably a way of salvaging some of the original investment. Excavation of the waterway had begun in 1807 and the first section was operational three years later. The route never got past Johnstone and a proposed link-up with the Forth & Clyde Canal never progressed past the talking stage. A railway solution was proposed to fill the gap to the coast but this proved abortive. No further funding was forthcoming and an 1881 Act of Parliament permanently closed the Glasgow, Paisley and Ardrossan Canal. By 1885, trains were running upon the route but the curvature of the track prohibited high speed operations. No doubt this helped confine the railway to backwater status and as it effectively provided a duplicate connection between Paisley and Johnstone, the axe was always liable to fall. Well, that was a whole chapter of Scottish industrial history I hadn't bargained for. The information panel also mentioned the historic Paton's Mill at the far end of the High Street. I went in search of this building but found only a gap site. An online article confirmed the mill had been scheduled for demolition following a spate of fires. Never mind. I then decided to walk the half mile to Johnstone Castle.

Now a private residence, the tower house dates back to the 16th century and was extended to become a fine mansion. Esteemed composer Frederick Chopin visited during a tour of Britain in 1848. The wider estate lands were gradually sold off as the 20th century arrived and the last laird died in 1931. Military requisition during WW2 provided a stay of execution but the castle's days looked numbered after the hostilities as the state of repair became ever more precarious. The additions to the original tower were demolished in 1950 and the town council purchased the remaining grounds in 1956 in order to create a modern housing scheme. Half a century ticked by until a buyer was found for the now crumbling tower but successful restoration has resulted in a beautiful family home that is now afforded B-listed protection. By this time I had decided to take the train back to Paisley. My starting intention had been to walk both ways but I had already used up time wandering around the towns and I wanted to have another look at the Paisley Anchor Mills and pick up a couple of items from the shopping centre. I had already clocked up a good five miles in total and that was enough exercise for the day. The road from Johnstone Castle back towards the town centre conveniently passed the railway station and within ten minutes I was hurtling back towards Paisley. At one time there had been another station called Johnstone North on the railway path I had walked today. Intriguingly, the current national rail database refers to Johnstone (Strathclyde) or Johnstone (Renfrewshire). This suggests there is another place of the same (or very similar) name, somewhere in the UK. To test my theory, I typed the station into the Trainline website and found reference to Johnston (Pembrokeshire). As an aside, Trainline is a third-party site and an excellent place to source service times and ticket prices, but each booking carries a 50p transaction fee. This surcharge can be avoided by purchasing directly from franchise operators such as Scot Rail. I wonder how many people fail to notice this little levy by Trainline. They must be raking it in! As I rolled into Paisley Gilmour Street, I checked Google Maps for directions to the Fountain Gardens.

A five-minute stroll brought me to a green space with a stunning Victorian fountain at its centre. And this time the water was switched on! Opened in 1886, the Fountain Gardens is the oldest public park in Paisley - a gift from sewing thread magnate Thomas Coats. He purchased the former private estate and and installed a geometric layout of paths, all of which lead to the 8.5 metre tall A-listed fountain (one of only three such examples in Scotland). The fountain received a much needed restoration in 2013 and the gleaming walruses, crocodiles, dolphins, herons and cherubs provide life sized decoration. I stood and admired the structure which had jets of water shooting out from all manner of sources and then took a stroll around the parkland - which also features a fine late-Victorian statue of national bard Robert Burns. He is shown in period dress, leaning against a plough with pen in hand, reflecting his two occupations. The only blemish was the graffiti defacing the public informational panels. A barely legible scrawl stating someone was a "beast" - honestly, the things some people obsess about! The only words that came to mind were who on earth does this? Spoiling part of a beautiful area that was created to benefit all residents and visitors. Sadly, Scotland has its share of folk who take no pride whatsoever in their surroundings. I walked back through the station and down to the mill building. This time the sun was more favourably positioned and I snapped a decent photo. I followed the banks of the White Cart back towards the town centre and was rewarded with an excellent view of the town hall standing on the water's edge. Paisley is of course the traditional county town of Renfrewshire but the Council Area of the same name has its headquarters in a modern set of buildings across from the Abbey. The administrative council covers only part of historic Renfrewshire, with other organisations known as East Renfrewshire and Inverclyde taking up the slack. Palatial buildings from a bygone age aren't necessarily suitable for providing modern local government services so it's pleasing to hear the town hall is currently undergoing refurbishment and slated to re-emerge as a performing arts centre in 2023.

Millions of pounds are being spent on the A-listed architectural gem that opened for business in 1882. Aside from the 1200 capacity main interior hall, unused spaces are being brought back into use and new rooms created including a dance studio, café-bar with terrace, screening room, revamped reception area and more - allowing the building to host a wider range of events. I made my way back to Gilmour Street and caught a train to Glasgow Central. I had been mightily impressed with the heritage on display in Paisley, truly befitting our biggest town. Combining a railway walk with a healthy dose of historical facts and grand buildings always guarantees a good day out. Particularly when the sun shines. There are further sections of the old trackbed to explore and no doubt more of Renfrewshire's chequered past will reveal itself. I am keenly anticipating that!