Bishop and Hill of Tarvit

Spring was in the air and I had a free Sunday. It was warm(ish) and dry outside. What better way to restore some fitness than by tackling a local hill? I plumped for the Bishop which overlooks Loch Leven and stands just over 1500 feet high. Half a Munro! Despite growing up in this area, I'd only ever scaled the Bishop once. That was with a small walking group from my old place of work and we took the relatively benign route along the shoulder. Today I planned to get the blood pumping by heading straight up the main face from the lovely little village of Kinnesswood which sits on the incline. Height was rapidly gained from the outset.

After dog-legging round a water storage tank, I was standing on the Michael Bruce Way. This is a pleasant circular route that skirts the lower slope of the Bishop and returns to Kinnesswood via the next village of Scotlandwell and the old peatlands that form Portmoak Moss. Nicole and I had done this trail previously, which is named after a local poet. Today my mission took me straight over the crossroads and up the hill path. A real thigh burner was in store. I was in no hurry and happy to take regular breaks upon a convenient rock or tuft of grass, turning round to take in the unfolding views across Loch Leven and the Shire of Kinross. Truth be known, I needed those frequent pauses as I was physically out of sorts after weeks without proper exercise. Only one way to combat that particular ailment! Stamina-sapping gradient aside, my navigational task was a simple one as I merely had to head in the direction of a rocky outcrop just below the ridge. Upon reaching this point, I reclined against a stone and watched the gliders from nearby Portmoak Airfield fly around the hill. They sneak up on you silently. One day our roads will be like that when we've all made the switch to electric cars. I've certainly more chance of seeing that happen than fleets of driverless vehicles ferrying us around. About a decade ago, I heard an expert confidently state on the radio that he would be astonished if autonomous cars weren't commonplace by the year 2020. Well we've passed that particular milestone bud and not a single machine has made it off the test circuit without a human being present in case of emergency (which kind of defeats the purpose). Anyway, I digress. The things you'll do to catch your breath! Up on top, Bishop Hill has a surprisingly large undulating plateau. I strolled around, gazing across to the neighbouring Lomond Hills in Fife and Benarty on the other side of Loch Leven. The Bishop summit has a weather station resembling an enormous golf ball. I ate my lunch and noted the walkers on the myriad paths below, obviously just passing by. I was happy to mount just a straight up and down job.

One thing that often catches out newbie hillwalkers is the fact the descent can be just as tough on the legs as the upward climb. Moreover, you have to be more aware of where you're plonking your feet. I was returning by the reverse route and reached a path junction I had ignored on the way up. Having another look, the track off to the side looked like it might provide a gentler rise to the top as it appeared to wind around the rocky patch I'd fixed my sights on earlier. Having plenty time on my hands, I decided to give it a try and perhaps a identify more forgiving route for my obligatory walk description on the website. Muscles already weakened, I didn't actually find this passage any less taxing on the day but it's certainly the way I would go on a future visit. From my new vantage point I could see another large loch. This was a actually a man-made effort on the site of the old Westfield energy plant. Apparently the excavations were at the one time the deepest opencast workings in Europe. The massive hole has now been filled with water and I must head over for an explore sometime. Back at my original route, I continued downwards, passing a couple of families with young children who had climbed a bit of the hill but didn't appear to be going further. I skipped (make that hobbled) over the Michael Bruce Way and was soon back at the car. I went for a little stroll along the main street in Kinnesswood and noticed the red phone box had been converted into a book exchange. I love that sort of thing but didn't have anything with me to swap. Back home it was time to put my feet up and I was pleased I'd made the effort to conquer a local peak. Going down the stairs the next morning was the toughest job of all as my legs had stiffened up big time. But at least I was back in the game! The following weekend we were trying to think of places to go and Nicole suggested a trip to Ceres - a charming village near Cupar where Scotland's oldest Highland games are staged. That sounded good to me and I added to the itinerary by saying we should check out Hill of Tarvit mansion, a property owned by the National Trust. According to the website, the grounds were fully open.

I've written about Ceres in a couple of previous posts so I'll keep it brief here. The Fife Folk Museum is situated at the heart of the rustic village and is well worth a visit (as is the tearoom). The burn flowing past the museum is a good spot to catch a sighting of the dipper - our only aquatic songbird. I recommend taking a stroll through the gardens of St John's Lodge. Although a private residence, the notice on the gate makes it clear that visitors are most welcome. The recently-created Fife Pilgrim Way passes through Ceres and must surely have brought increased footfall. One final note, the name of the village should never be pronounced like a "series" you watch on Netflix. The stress falls on the second syllable and should come out like si-RESS. If I may don my phonetics cap for a minute, common examples of misplaced stress frequently heard from outsiders are Carlisle, Caithness and Mallaig. In all three, the emphasis should be on the first part. Ceres was quiet today and after a spot of lunch at the picnic table and a brief stroll around, we pushed on to Hill of Tarvit. We used to have National Trust memberships but found we weren't visiting enough locations to justify the cost. It must have been 15 years since were inside the Tarvit stately home. Today a walk around the grounds was the only (and far cheaper) option. The mansion is Edwardian and was built upon the site of a much older property (the old wings were retained). The modern estate became home to the Sharp family who were involved in the Dundee jute trade. Frederick Sharp amassed a huge collection of paintings, porcelain and antique furniture which is now on display to the paying public. The new abode was state of the art with central heating and electricity throughout, along with an internal telephone system. An avid golfer, Sharp commissioned a private 9-hole course alongside the extensively landscaped gardens. It now operates as a hickory course which means playing with retro wooden-shafted clubs and feather-stuffed balls. What would Tiger make of that?

It was indeed a delight to wander around the manicured surroundings and view the stone staircase with the house sitting symmetrically above. A sundial was positioned above the main entrance. Apparently visitors are encouraged to try croquet and other lawn games during the summer months. We headed round to the old laundry and I was able to view the washing and ironing equipment through an open window. A shift here involved rising at 5am and working until the evening. A reminder that behind the opulence was an army of people (deemed to be of lower class) grafting away. That said, a career "in service" probably had its benefits relative to the living standards of the day. I suppose it meant a steady supply of food, sanitary accommodation and pocket money to spend on your day off. Clean air too. The gardens to the rear were on a fairly steep slope and the actual Hill of Tarvit loomed behind. We made our way to an ornate iron gate set into the boundary wall and took a short hike through a patch of woodland. Upon reaching a style, I had a clear view up the grassy slopes towards the top of the ridge. The actual summit was across to the left and I could make out part of a monument. Until this point in time, I hadn't actually planned to scale the hill, I had been more interested in seeing and photographing the mansion and grounds. But since I was already a quarter of the way up....it seemed incredibly rude to turn back. I reckoned I could be up and down in no time and proceeded to batter up the slope with Nicole waiting behind. I reached paused for breath a couple of times before the land levelled out and I was able to make the straightforward trek to the highest point. The summit was marked by an impressive stone structure and a handy viewfinder pointed out the surrounding landmarks. Beautiful views were available in all directions across this part of Central Fife and I could make out the North Sea in the distance. A modest climb in a fairly flat area can reveal a stunning panorama and this was certainly the case here. The Lomond Hills were in close proximity as was Largo Law. I was looking down upon the county town of Cupar. The East Coast Main Line was clearly visible and I heard a familiar hoot. This stretch of railway has a couple of level crossings and a train was obviously on its way.

I steadied my camera on the trig point and lined up the shot. I always enjoy including a train in my palette of pictures for the day. A few people were either milling around the summit or advancing up the slopes. Obviously a popular walk among locals. I began to pick my course back down and bumped into Nicole who had decided to do the climb after all. Back I headed towards the top, following an assortment of faint tracks and open terrain. A curious structure down below was Scotstarvit Tower - a six-storey L-plan dating from the early17th century and a scheduled ancient monument in the care of Historic Environment Scotland. We didn't investigate further today but it's certainly one for the future as I'm sure we'll be back at Ceres. Another Fife hill had been ticked off the list and more historical knowledge had been gained. Not a bad day.

Buffalo Bill

In 1904, the legendary American showman Buffalo Bill embarked upon a comprehensive tour of 29 Scottish venues. Multiple dates were staged in the four big cities and single night events took place in towns up and down the land. The itinerary began in the Borders, reached the Highlands and finished up in the south west. It was all done by train - three of them. The entourage numbered 800 people and 500 horses! A personal appearance from Bill was guaranteed and two shows were performed each scheduled day, regardless of weather conditions. A canvas covered arena with 15000 seats was erected and dismantled as the travelling Wild West extravaganza rolled from one place to the next. It should be noted that by no means was the show themed exclusively around America. Military personnel from all corners of the globe were involved.

Buffalo Bill was born William Frederick Cody in Iowa, 1846. As a teenager, he rode for the Pony Express and later served in the American Civil War and the Indian Wars - receiving the coveted Medal of Honor. He then moved on to the showbiz circuit, touring across the States and eventually overseas. His nickname stems from a spell working as a buffalo hunter to supply railroad workers with meat. The travelling show featured re-enactments from the Wild West and many of the leading performers were already famous in their own right: Annie Oakley, Frank Butler, Sitting Bull and Calamity Jane being among them. Buffalo Bill died in 1917 at the age of 70 and it is reckoned he was at one point during his lifetime the most instantly recognisable face on the planet. So what does the story of an American icon have to do with my local lockdown wanderings? As you may have surmised from the intro paragraph, the Buffalo Bill circus stopped over at Dunfermline on its marathon Scottish trek. The venue was simply listed as the Race Park. I had actually been researching the history of horse racing in Dunfermline and had posted about the town's association with the Sport of Kings on a local history Facebook page. The nags ran at a venue known as Urquhart Race Park in the latter stages of the 19th century and a grandstand is shown on the OS map from 1895. Numerous reports of meetings appear in the British Newspaper Archive, along with a few accounts of disturbances and illegal gambling activity outside the course boundaries. Formal racing appears to have ceased around 1900 but the grounds continued to host other events and that's where our man Cody comes in. The Race Park today is a large square field on the western fringes of Dunfermline, adjacent to McKane Park rugby stadium. No traces of the wooden grandstand remain. I had walked around on one of my expeditions during the first lockdown. As I trudged the perimeter I noticed the high boundary stone wall and simply assumed it marked nothing more than the edge of the Logie Estate, upon whose grounds I was exploring. At a later date I found the racecourse on the old maps and started to piece the story together. I wrote a couple of short articles for local Facebook groups along with map screenshots and a crowd photo I'd unearthed online. (although it's not clear if this was taken at a horseracing meeting). Feedback was highly positive and somebody mentioned this was the place Buffalo Bill had visited back in the day. I knew he'd been to Dunfermline as part of a tour but had never given the matter much thought. Until now.

I started digging around and discovered several photos from the Scottish sojourn - although none of the Dunfermline show. I did however manage to find an advert in the newspaper archive along with many contemporary reports of the performances around Scotland. There were also a few retrospective articles written decades after the original event. One local resident related the story of Bill rolling up at the family coachworks to have his carriage wheel repaired and then leaving complimentary tickets alongside his payment. These were invaluable resources for figuring out how such an ambitious tour was staged in an era when motor transport barely existed. Several websites also carried information about the schedule and further details of the evening's entertainment. Since I have a good mental picture of the Edwardian railway network, I was able to quickly make sense of the itinerary and appreciate the logic behind it. My extensive knowledge of local routes made it clear why the Race Park had been chosen to host the Dunfermline date. The Netherton goods line ran alongside the venue and would have been the perfect place to park up the wagons and start building the infrastructure. The preceding show was in Falkirk and I have no way of determining the exact onward route to Dunfermline. There is the possibility the line through Cairneyhill was used, which means the whole caboodle might have passed by my house (although it wasn't there at the time). The jaunt then continued to Kirkcaldy and Dundee. Newspaper reports state the travelling party arrived in Dunfermline at dawn. 100 native Americans and as many cowboys were part of the entourage and there are anecdotal tales of the nearby Pitfirrane Hotel in Crossford being swamped by thirsty visitors. Must have been quite a sight for local customers to be confronted with a sea of Stetsons and headdresses! A major part of the evening proceedings as dusk fell was the illumination provided by powerful electric arc lamps - a distinct novelty at the time. The attendance at Dunfermline reputedly ran into five figures and no doubt the box office takings were healthy. People commented on my Facebook posts about how their (great) grandfathers had walked to the Race Park from across the region to see the action. I thoroughly enjoyed researching the story and it pleases me to pass on information that others find interesting or - even better - have a personal connection to. It's always satisfying to give something back.

That was my little project done and dusted. Or so I thought. Out of the blue, a message arrived from Dunfermline Press reporter Ally McRoberts. He had seen my post about the racecourse on Facebook and asked if he could ring me with a view to creating a local history article for the paper. I was more than happy to oblige and supplied my contact details. My dad spent his whole career as a newspaper journalist and finished up doing the sports pages for the DP on a part-time basis following a 30-year stint at the Edinburgh Evening News. The surname McRoberts sounded familiar and naturally I enquired if Ally had worked beside my old man. It transpired his older brother Kevin had been a colleague of my dad, who is apparently still spoken about in revered tones at the office. Of course I passed that little nugget on! I immediately confessed I hadn't done extensive research on the historical horseracing scene but had sourced bits and pieces online, enough to convey a basic outline. After ascertaining my profession and where I was from, Ally wanted to know exactly where the racetrack had been situated and what the landscape looked like nowadays. He certainly seemed to think it would make an interesting story for the paper as it was a part of the town's history that had slipped from public awareness. When I mentioned Buffalo Bill, we suddenly had a lot more to talk about and I gave as much information as I had. I said I'd package together a bunch of internet links in an email, along with a few screenshots. I did this over the weekend and included the crowd photo which actually came from a published book. Obviously this raises copyright implications for a commercial newspaper but I figured there must be a procedure and - anyway - that was for Ally to deal with. I tipped my dad off about the forthcoming article and he bought two copies of the Press, which I perused when I visited my folks. I was pleasantly surprised to see it covering an entire page and the transcription of the telephone conversation was spot on (shorthand or a recording app?). The picture had the requisite credit underneath. As I stated previously, it's unclear whether the gathering was assembled for a race meeting or some other event. Either way, it looked good and had the abbey in the background. Job done. Hopefully a few people across the Dunfermline area learned new facts about the equine heritage of the town and the appearance of the celebrated Mr Cody.

The year 1904 wasn't the only occasion the Wild West Show landed upon these shores. In 1891, Bill and his troops began a 3-month stint in Glasgow at the East End Exhibition Buildings which were kitted out to hold 7000 spectators. Ever the publicist, Cody assembled a team of cowboys to play a charity football match at Celtic Park. He also turned up at Ibrox Stadium as a special guest for a Glasgow Cup match. Naturally, he was clad head to toe in full regalia, including an outsize white hat. It is rumoured he deliberately took his seat a few minutes after the match had started so the crowd could witness him striding towards the directors box. Bill was never afraid to embellish his own legend and some historians believe that - while employed by the Pony Express Company - his actual duties on horseback were rather more mundane than the tales of dashing across the vast plains he liked to relate. The international touring schedule by no means limited itself to the English-speaking world. Buffalo Bill appeared all over Europe, including the eastern parts of the vast Austro-Hungarian Empire, a multi-ethnic tinderbox that would collapse in disarray after WW1. Popular perception of the day regarded cities like Debrecen and Temesvar (now, Timisoara, Romania) as the "Wild East" and when you dangle that particular carrot in front of the buff man, he ain't gonna turn it down.

Lockdown re-emergence (again)

After another spell confined to barracks by the wintry weather and the ongoing Covid restrictions, it was time for a bit of exploration. It would have to be local as we were not yet supposed to venture outside our authority and I racked my brains for any landmarks I hadn't yet checked out. A couple of ideas came to the fore but first I decided upon a return visit to Pitliver Estate, less than two miles from me as the crow flies. Without the convenient corvine ability of flight, I decided to take the car to a nearby spot and wander in from the main road.

A well-maintained track leads for half a mile past several houses and apparently a mill was situated around here in the 19th century. The gushing Lyne Burn was clearly audible and this must have been the power source for the water wheel. While researching the history of the estate (again), I came across a report of working conditions in the mill during the early 1800s. It made pretty grim reading. The young workers toiled for many hours each day and existed on a meagre diet. Things of course improved over the decades but the pace of change was slow and no doubt the poor souls I read about didn't live long enough to experience a safe and fair workplace. I headed through the main gates and took a few photos of the private golf course. I've written about this place in a previous blog post and will stick to a brief historical review here. The mansion house was occupied by Prince George during the early years of WW2. He was serving at nearby Rosyth and was the son of King George V and uncle to the present queen. Polo grounds were laid out during his stay and the crack of the mallet must have been a strange sound to hear in West Fife. George lost his life in an air crash off the Caithness coast before the end of the hostilities. I unearthed some new information about a hospital annex being planned for the site in the post-war years. This was of course a time when many country houses faced an uncertain future due to changing attitudes and the sheer running costs. Many had been requisitioned by the armed forces and were returned to the owners in a less than perfect state. Pitliver survived as a private house and in more recent times a luxury golf course resort/retreat was planned but this was never fully realised. There was even a story of Sean Connery being approached as a potential buyer/investor but this smacked of a publicity stunt rather than a serious proposition. The golf course is lovingly maintained today but I'm not sure who actually plays upon it.

Going further back in time, the British Newspaper Archive informed me that Pitliver had previously been the seat of the Wellwood family but they vacated the premises around 1920. The house was available for £6000 which is a handful of pay cheques for most people nowadays. The advert boasted of three lavatories! A local farmer took the place on and there are many reports of agricultural shows, flower shows and other public events taking place within the grounds. A true working estate rather than a place of leisure. My mum gave me a year's subscription to the newspaper archive as a Christmas present and it is an invaluable resource for anyone interested in local or family history. A bargain at £80 considering the wealth of information at your fingertips. Access is free at the National Library of Scotland in Edinburgh and Glasgow but travelling there wasn't an option (still isn't) during lockdown and - in any case - bus/train fares would quickly have exceeded the home subscription fee considering the number of days I've spent trawling the material. It's important to note that not EVERY edition of every paper is present. Digitising the old pages is a mammoth ongoing task and new data is constantly being added. But what you can see right now is well worth the money. The estate access road swept round past the mansion and I managed to pick a suitable spot for a photo where the house was visible between the trees. The front garden was clearly demarcated with a stone wall and I certainly wasn't going to make an attempt to climb over. The Outdoor Access Code states you have to respect these boundaries. Further on lay a collection of old greenhouses with rusting frames that appeared to have been derelict for some time. I walked past stone outbuildings which I guessed were once the stables but again looked as if they had been out of use for decades. A bridge over the Lyne Burn led to a small area of woodland and fields but the going became increasingly muddy and I turned around and wandered up to the high point of the golf course. Two things were revealed to me.

The railway line to Kincardine cuts through the estate. I already knew this but as I looked down upon the tracks, I couldn't help thinking it would be an excellent vantage point to view the occasional steam specials that are about the only traffic the line sees following the closure of Longannet power station. There are proposals to utilise this route for a passenger service between Dunfermline and Alloa, thus creating a Fife Glasgow corridor. As I type, I'm due to take part in a Zoom conference tomorrow, regarding this issue. I shared links to the event on local community Facebook groups and feedback was hugely positive, alongside predictable rumblings from a handful of people living trackside. Imagine buying a house next to a railway and one day trains appear! Personally I think we're still years away from the route being fully developed. Fortunately the chances of permanent closure are virtually nil as this would rapidly become a toxic political issue. The real surprise as I reached the summit of the small green mound was the excellent view of Pitfirrane Castle on the neighbouring estate. Again, I've written extensively elsewhere about this building. It now functions as the clubhouse and administrative headquarters for Dunfermline Golf Club who are in possession of a wonderful course within the old estate grounds. I acquired more information about the history of Pitfirrane (and the golf course on the Torrie Estate) via the newspaper archive and I'll flesh this out towards the end of this post, particularly as I went walking in these areas recently and discovered new things. It looks like this article is shaping up to be a long one, as did the post I put together chronicling my wanderings as the first lockdown eased. When I returned home, I uploaded my photos to the West Fife Woodlands page on Facebook, along with a lengthy piece of text relating the history of the estate. Feedback was positive until I received a message from a site administrator, saying the estate owner had asked for the post to be removed as he and his family were private people and didn't want pictures of their property online and they were worried about potential break-ins. Fair enough, although I thought he was definitely over-egging the pudding on the second part, a point the site curator readily agreed with. But I had no real objection to my efforts being deleted.

Later that evening, I noticed communication in my message requests folder. It was from Mark Taylor - owner of the Pitliver estate. He was asking me to remove my post as - in his opinion - it constituted an invasion of privacy and I hadn't obtained permission to enter the grounds. The entire post had already been taken down at this point. I replied, stating that I had only been investigating the history of the area and the pictures were already gone. I could understand his point about the residential property and it also seemed he hadn't been happy about me posting images of the abandoned stables, particularly as someone had enquired on the page about their location. I wasn't going to start an argument about the situation. I'd had a look around, he didn't want my photos on public display. I can certainly live with that. I do feel however that all the talk about burglaries and not wanting their business discussed on an open forum was something of a smokescreen for preventing people walking on his land. Ironically, a resident of a house close to the main gates had enthusiastically engaged with my article, even posting pictures of his property and garden.

Some time passed, a lot of snow fell and I began getting itchy feet again. I decided to have a look at Blair Tower which lies just off the main road between Oakley and Carnock. I could get there in 10 minutes and for some reason I had never viewed the B-listed tower from close quarters. Time to change that! I found a place to park on an industrial road in the vicinity and headed up the hill. I had to negotiate a low fence as the structure stands in a field but I was soon at the base and it was certainly an impressive sight.

I've seen a couple of similar towers over in the Lothians. I struggled to find out information about why this one was built. One explanation suggested it was intended to house an observatory but was never completed. I'm inclined to run with this as these words come from the Ordnance Survey Name Book 1855 for Fife & Kinross. Basically a record of all the significant landmarks in each parish. Blair House is nearby (also B-listed) and my guess is the estate owners had something to do with it. I haven't checked out Blair House yet and must do so at some point. The access road that led towards the tower continues down the other side of the hill and the maps show a scarred landscape. Apparently opencast operations were carried out here but ceased on the financial collapse of Scottish Coal in 2013. I did read that funding had been granted to at least partially restore the area and it would be informative to have a wander down that way and see how it looks now. Before I set out from home, I had been researching the fate of Luscar House which was described in an 1862 guide to Carnock Parish as a principal mansion of the area. Cairneyhill falls within the parish boundaries and it was very interesting to read a few snippets relating to my home village. The weavers cottages at this time were becoming fewer in number due to increasing competition from mechanised factories. I also liked the tale of the two walking postmen who set out each day from Dunfermline, delivering letters along the Oakley and Cairneyhill roads respectively. These days a single postie can't cover the whole of our village with a van. Of course Cairneyhill and Crossford would barely have extended back from the main street in the 19th century. Probably very few parcels in the sack too! Back to Luscar House, it was situated in a raised position (as was the norm) just outside Carnock. Built in 1838, it was regarded as one of the finest examples of the work of architect David Bryce, who also designed Fettes College in Edinburgh and the iconic Bank of Scotland building on the Mound. Converted to a nursing home in later years, Luscar House was purchased by David Edwards in 1995 but the property was largely destroyed by fire in 2001. Just two years later, the owner (having pocketed the insurance pay-out) had the B-listed house demolished without permission and was fined just a few hundred pounds. A token amount! Moreover, he sold off the refurbished stables as luxury accommodation so no doubt did rather nicely out of the whole episode. I realise there are cases of burnt-out listed buildings stuck in limbo because officially sanctioned demolition requires a lengthy (and potentially costly) legal struggle, yet to restore a charred shell is often beyond the means (or will) of the owner. That said, the laws exist for a reason and you can't just flatten a place to make a fast buck. While I was in the area, I checked out Bandrum House a couple of miles down the road. It is now a luxury care home with multiple modern extensions. A fine example of a country house that found a long-term alternative use continuing into the 21st century.

My secondary mission for today was to locate Bath Castle - allegedly Scotland's smallest. I knew it was somewhere in West Fife and a bit of digging online gave me the suspected location and also threw up an article about the property being on the market as recently as 2015. I also found the estate agent literature with some nice interior shots. I knew I was heading for a concrete road off the A907 past Bogside. I parked on a patch of waste ground and headed towards the Bathmoor Plantation. The road had obviously been built for forestry traffic and I passed a few private properties and commercial premises before reaching the unmistakable stepped gables of Bath Castle. I took a couple of discrete photos from the roadside before passing the entrance gate. Kids were playing in the large garden and it was nice to see the place functioning as a family home. I'm not exactly sure why the building qualifies as a castle. The Scottish Places website offers the following information. A historic white-harled house occupying a picturesque situation on a rocky knoll in West Fife. Bath Castle, previously known as West Bath House, is located half a mile northeast of Bogside. Dating from the 17th century, the rectangular two-storey building features a red pantiled roof and crow-stepped gables. The turnpike stair tower was added later. Bath Castle was B-listed in 1972. At one time sub-divided, it was restored as a private home in the mid-1980s, comprising a living room, kitchen and two bedrooms. It was nice to find this obscure residence and I continued my walk into the actual plantation, taking a path through a cleared area towards a raised point which offered a sweeping panorama of this far corner of Fife. I later uploaded pictures to the Woodlands group and the owner of the castle posted a compliment. What a difference in attitude compared to the Laird of Pitliver! Upon returning to the car, I noticed Brankstone Grange country house sitting atop a grassy mound across the fields, partially obscured by the surrounding trees.

I decided to head over the empty pasture land for a closer inspection. This required the simple scaling of a couple of farm gates. There was no real way of avoiding the branches with my camera but the absence of foliage enabled the house to peek through. I had approached this place from the other side a few months previously. I'd heard they don't welcome visitors but I didn't see any harm in popping up the access road for a quick photo. Adjacent to Brankstone Grange is the mysteriously named Skyfall Estate - a heavily fenced enclosure with security cameras everywhere. Yet glimpses of the modern house within don't suggest it's anything of architectural note. I doubt they would have had any more luck than Pitliver in tempting Sir Sean to make a purchase, despite the Bond-themed name. Brankstone Grange became a Barnardo's children's home in 1946 and a notable resident was Gregor Fisher - later of Rab C Nesbitt fame. It reverted to private use in 1969 under its original name (having been renamed Haldane House by the charity). I've heard the place was run as a hotel for a while but that needs verification. Having stretched my legs enough for the day, I made my way back to the car and drove home, happy that I'd finally accomplished a bit of exploring. As ever, when you write about your research or experience of historical places, there's a fair chance new evidence will appear further down the line which enhances (or contradicts) your previous conclusions. I found myself walking on a frosty Sunday morning across the old golf course on the Torrie Estate. Despite the palatial clubhouse and the fact a top designer had no doubt been handsomely paid to specify the course layout, Dunfermline Golf Club only remained here for two decades. I put together a little article for the Woodlands page and stated the discovery of dry rot in Torrie House had been the main reason for the club moving along the road to the vacant Pitfirrane Estate in 1953. Someone, whose father had worked at the Torrie course, replied to inform me that while there was indeed a fungal infestation, the damage caused by military occupation during the war had been a more significant factor in the departure. I also took advantage of lockdown to have another free roam across the Pitfirrane course and a visit to the old walled garden in the centre.

Further research on Pitfirrane Castle revealed that a large extension had been bolted on to the original tower house in the 1880s. Effectively doubling the size of the building. It was removed around 1980 due to being beyond economical repair. I also hadn't fully appreciated the royal links and Queen Mary (wife of George V) was apparently a personal friend of the two Halkett sisters who occupied the mansion. There are newspaper reports of Her Highness staying at Pitfirrane on several occasions. The estate was sold upon the death of Madeline Halkett, who left no heir. While browsing the Crossford community page on Facebook I read a post from a lady whose father had been the head gardener at Pitfirrane. The family lived in one of the estate cottages and she remembered being shown around the castle at a young age. As expected, her memories were of a huge place but also a very "cold and creepy" one. I don't think the landed gentry were necessarily all leading lavish lifestyles in the post-war period. Asset rich but cash poor was probably a common state of affairs. Nicole made her first visit to the Pitfirrane grounds when we went along to check out the rumoured starling murmuration. We had witnessed this spectacular event a couple of times down south and - truth be told - didn't expect the Crossford gathering to be anything special. While the throng of birds was certainly smaller, that didn't detract from the viewing experience, particularly as we watched the starlings swarm more or less above our heads rather than in the distance. A little bit of magic rustled up on these ancient lands.