Dunblane Walk

An ancient royal burgh within the historic County of Perth, Dunblane stands on the banks of the Allan Water and is dominated by the striking cathedral in the centre. The most famous resident of recent times is the legendary tennis player Andy Murray, whose long career is currently drawing to a close. By far the most successful British competitor of the modern era, Murray has three Grand Slam titles and two Olympic gold medals to his name. Nicole and I enjoy a walk along the river here now and again, where a dipper can sometimes be seen flying from one rock to the next. Today I made a solo trip up the M9 and parked right next to the fabulous church, much of which dates back to the 13th century.

Yes, I did purposely type the word church. Pedants will gleefully inform you there have been no cathedrals in Scotland since the bishoprics were abolished in 1689. On the other hand, if it looks like a duck, it may well quack. Still very much a working place of worship, I could hear the organ being warmed up as I had a brief stroll among the gravestones. The tower height was increased in the 15th century and this explains the notably different shades of the stonework on this part of the A-listed building. The roof of the nave collapsed towards the end of the 16th century and this state of affairs remained for the next 300 years, forcing the congregation to worship in the choir. Full restoration began in 1889 and the Crown-owned cathedral is now cared for by Historic Scotland. I followed a narrow street down to the Allan Water and passed below a railway viaduct. The intention today was to follow a path that loosely paralleled both the river (upstream) and iron road as far as a small village called Kinbuck. The sun was out and I could sense a little heat in its rays. Spring was definitely in the air. Dunblane has had a railway station since 1848 and today the town is the northernmost limit of electrification on the UK network. Direct services are available to Stirling, Perth, Edinburgh and Glasgow. There was formerly a junction where the line to Oban (via Callander) split off to the west. This route was a victim of the Beeching cuts in 1965, although Oban is still accessible by rail from the Glasgow direction. Housing developments within Dunblane have covered the old tracks but a mile and a half of the closed line can be walked at Doune, the next town along. I wandered by a small community garden (fashioned from a disused quarry) and read an information panel about former industrial activity in the area. When visiting an affluent commuter town like Dunblane today, it's easy to overlook the traditional trades of the past. But wherever a fast river flowed, you often found mills churning out all sorts of produce.

The Allan Water rises in the Ochil Hills and runs for 22 miles before joining the River Forth just beyond Bridge of Allan, a town of similar size to Dunblane. The river's power has been harnessed since the 1400s and it is home to salmon and trout. A dozen mills are reckoned to have operated along the Allan over the centuries and the last working example was Springbank, which opened in 1853 to supply yarn to manufacturers of tartan cloth, carpets and assorted woollen goods. At the height of its powers, the mill employed 400 people and a shortage of local labour led to workers being imported from the Isle of Skye (and tenements built for them). Final closure came in 1980. At that time, the system of lades and sluices was still intact, but used to generate electricity rather than crank the machinery directly. Most of the complex was demolished but the original building was retained and converted to private apartments. I could see this development from my vantage point on the slender Faery Bridge, built in 1911 to allow easy pedestrian access to the mill from the eastern side of town. Its name has nothing to do with the little people, being instead a corruption of the primary building material, ferro concrete. I soon entered the sprawling Laighhills Public Park, where sporting and recreational facilities are provided for the townsfolk, including a graffiti-adorned concrete bowl for skateboarders. I was now leaving Dunblane behind and I crossed the railway on a footbridge before heading into open country. A couple of trains rushed by, while the river was out of sight on the other side of the embankment. I also walked below a flyover carrying the A9 and then rejoined the river as I made my way towards the tiny village of Ashfield.

Planned as a settlement to house workers at a textile mill, Ashfield is now a conservation village and exudes a charming feel. After WW2, the mill specialised in silk dyeing and this process employed 120 people. Industrial activity ceased in 1976 and Ashfield is now a quiet country backwater. There seems to be a strong community spirit and the Facebook page for the village hall lists several recent events, such as a Christmas fair, Burns supper and repair café. The latter involves a group of people getting together and endeavouring to fix broken objects, rather than simply throw them away. The public phone box has been repurposed as a small library and I wondered if our postal infrastructure will one day face the same dilemma. Let's hope not. I pushed on towards Kinbuck - still following the railway - and I could see the village across the fields, less than a mile away. Unfortunately the gravel path ran out and the trail continued over a style. The ground immediately became boggy and water started to seep into my (well worn) walking shoes. If I proceeded further, I ran the risk of sinking into the mud and I decided to call it quits and return to Ashfield. I had already seen a fair amount of varied terrain and didn't feel the need to go all the way to the end of the route regardless of the conditions. I retraced my steps to Dunblane. Later research revealed Ashfield Mill now hosts industrial units. I found the websites of a cabinet maker and soap workshop. Back at the cathedral, I finished off my wander by popping a letter into the gold-painted postbox that commemorates local boy Andy Murray's Olympic success.

Loch of the Lowes

The Scottish Wildlife Trust was established in 1964 and has around 50,000 members. It manages 120 reserves across the country and runs visitors centres at Montrose Basin (Angus), Falls of Clyde (Lanarkshire) and Loch of the Lowes (Perthshire). It was to the latter we headed on an early-spring Saturday. The complex is located near Dunkeld and the plan was to have a bite to eat in town before going to watch the wildlife.

Dunkeld (population 1400) lies on the north bank of the River Tay and has been bypassed since 1977. It's impossible to imagine today's traffic volumes crawling over the 1809 stone bridge across the Tay, and along the narrow High Street. As we approached Dunkeld junction on the busy A9, it struck me that this section of road will be highly problematic to dual, as the railway constricts the amount of space available. The ultimate aim is to have two carriageways all the way from Perth to Inverness but the overall project is already several years behind schedule. We parked at the far end of town and picked up a tasty snack from a bakery on the High Street. From there, we wandered down to the river and found a bench. We had fine views of the A-listed seven-arch Thomas Telford bridge, financed by the 4th Duke of Atholl. The holder of this title has long been a major landowner around these parts and is the only person in the UK permitted to assemble a private army - a privilege granted by Queen Victoria. Walking back to the car, we passed Dunkeld Cathedral. Constructed from grey sandstone, the building technically isn't a cathedral (the modern Church of Scotland has no bishops), but the pre-reformation term has stuck in several cases around the country. A five-minute drive brought us to the nature reserve and our membership cards allowed us free entry (regular price £5.50). The SWT territory encompasses 130 hectares of woodland and freshwater loch. Three hides offer views over the water but first we grabbed a hot drink in the visitors centre and sat in front of the observation window that looks into a small glade. We had been here several times before and this viewing station is my personal highlight. It's like taking a seat in a wildlife cinema and we soon spotted a few familiar faces. Various small birds buzzed around the hanging feeders and a handful of mallards waddled around on the forest floor, perhaps looking for easy pickings to hoover up. An appearance by the red squirrel is a pretty safe bet and, sure enough, the cheeky chappie scampered up a trunk to access the nut box. For some reason, a pheasant always seems to strut around here and the colours looked magnificent against a the still-bare trees. I could happily view the proceedings every weekend and never get bored. It was time to move across to the hides and let other people sit behind the glass. Loch of the Lowes is well-known for featuring an osprey nest and as we stood up, the lady behind the desk announced some activity on this front. The female osprey had caught a fish and was busily devouring it in her hidey-hole. We could see the webcam footage on a large screen within the centre and it was fascinating to observe the feast close-up. Ospreys frequently return to the same nest site each year and the accommodation at Loch of the Lowes has been artificially constructed atop a mature Scots pine tree. The reserve has hosted the majestic fish-eaters since 1969. The species was extinct in Britain by the turn of the 20th century (due to persecution) but a single breeding pair returned to Scotland in 1955 and successful reintroduction programmes have allowed numbers to climb steadily over the decades.

The osprey's migration to warmer climes involves an arduous journey to West Africa and the birds set off and return individually, meeting up at the nest the following year to raise more young. Only the female was present today and she had her catch all to herself, which must have been a great feeling! We went over to the hides which are equipped with scopes. The nest platform is 150 metres away and the view through the lens was excellent. A couple of goosander were swimming on the loch and there was a kerfuffle involving mallards. Their reproductive process often consists of "forced copulation" between several males and a solitary female. Violent underwater gang rape would be another way of putting it. Charming! Just think about that the next time you see the public doling out food at the local duck pond, assuming butter wouldn't melt. Back at the woodland viewing glass, the female pheasant appeared on the scene, but this was a mere appetiser. We had heard the drilling sound of a woodpecker after leaving the hide and it duly showed up at the feeding station (first picture). This was closely followed by the emergence of a nut-hatch, flitting around the branches. This plump little bird is widespread across England & Wales and has now gained a foothold in Scotland. It has distinctive colouring. Blue/grey on top with a black stripe across the eye. Both the nut-hatch and great spotted woodpecker were year firsts for Nicole and they were swiftly ticked off the list (or logged on the Birda app, to be more precise). Loch of the Lowes is a great day out, no matter your level of birding expertise. Several easy spots for the beginner and family friendly facilities. You might even see a beaver.

Heritage Quarter Opera

Dunfermline gained official city status in 2023. While it can't be denied the High Street has suffered since our shopping habits as a nation changed, the compact Heritage Quarter is a real asset to the new city and makes Dunfermline an ideal location for a day trip or short stay. The public transport connections are good, with bus links to many parts of Central Scotland and regular trains arriving from Edinburgh.

Dunfermline is an ancient royal capital and several monarchs were born here - the last being Charles the first in 1600, who reigned over the whole of Britain until Oliver Cromwell intervened. Seven Scottish kings are interred at the abbey site, although only the tomb of Robert the Bruce (1274-1329) has any identifying features. Dunfermline was the home town of Hungarian-born Queen Margaret (1045-1093), Scotland's only canonised Saint. Today I was heading to a book sale in the Carnegie Library and I wandered through the adjacent graveyard. It's an ideal place to take in the character of the old town and the City Chambers spire dominates the skyline. The modern abbey church (erected 1821) incorporates parts of the ancient worship site and many tourists come into the choir to view the resting place of Robert the Bruce (whose name is also carved into the exterior balustrade of the tower and is visible from afar). In the far corner of the churchyard stand the remains of the royal palace. The structure largely reflects the form in which the building was remodelled by James IV around 1500. Following the 1603 Union of the Crowns, the Scottish court upped sticks for London and Dunfermline rarely hosted royal guests. The palace was finally abandoned halfway through the 17th century during the Cromwellian occupation of Scotland. Abbot House (pictured below) adjoins the abbey grounds. The A-listed property is the oldest in the city and is steeped in a rich heritage, dating back to at least the 16th century. The distinctive pink colour was applied in the 1990s when the building was lime washed, although it may have sported a similar hue in the past. The house is now owned by a charitable trust and - following a recent period of uncertainty - finance has been released to carry out extensive renovations. The café on the ground floor is an excellent place to enjoy refreshments and you can sit in the walled garden if the weather permits. Dunfermline's most famous son in relatively recent times is Andrew Carnegie (1835-1919) who emigrated to the United States as a boy. He amassed great wealth and donated large amounts in later life to his place of birth, in order to improve the quality of amenities for locals. Carnegie purchased the private Pittencrieff Estate and handed it over to the town. Known informally as "The Glen" - this stunning area of parkland abuts the Heritage Quarter and provides ample walking opportunities. One of Carnegie's passions was the availability of education to the masses. He had grown up in modest circumstances and eventually established over 2000 free public libraries across the globe, the original example being right here in Dunfermline.

Opened in 1883, the original premises were extended during the 20th century and a major new development began in 2014, when the library closed for two years to enable a museum and art gallery to be bolted on. The result is an excellent combination of old and new architecture and the galleries are perfect for a small city. Visitors can wander among the antique shelving units in the original library and proceed into the museum to learn about Dunfermline's history, or delve into one of the changing art exhibitions. The windows on the upper floors provide lovely views of the abbey and the surrounding land. Lending libraries have never stood still in a technological sense and you will find a computer suite nestled within the Victorian building. Today's book sale was located in one of the function rooms and a wide range of surplus stock from the Fife catalogue was offered at 50p per paperback and £1 for each hardback. I chose the option of picking up a cardboard box and filling it for a tenner. Items were disappearing quickly and it was fortunate that I'd arrived fairly early and was able to find enough titles of interest. Carnegie's fingerprints are all over Dunfermline and there is a museum dedicated to his life at the bottom end of the Heritage Quarter. The site includes the 18th-century weaver's cottage where Carnegie was born. His wife Louise Whitfield Carnegie (1857-1946) purchased the property in 1895 and visitors were first welcomed in 1908. A memorial hall was added in 1928 and now functions as the museum's main gallery. The displays focus on social history and admission is free. I have fully explored the Heritage Quarter over the years and today's mission was just a quick tour en route to the library. I now had to lug my box of books uphill to the bus station. If somebody reads this post and decides to visit Dunfermline for the first time, then the effort of writing has been worthwhile.

I found myself back inside the abbey the following weekend. I've been to a wide variety of concerts in my life - from heavy metal to classical, jazz and blues, but opera was a first for me. Four single performances of The Bruce were being staged around the country and the event was billed as a cathedral opera. The composer was 25-year-old Rahkhat-Bi Abdyssagin from Kazakhstan and the cast was drawn from the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland - an elite music college based in Glasgow. Tickets were free and I booked a couple online. My mum and sister also planned to attend. There must have been some public funding in place to put on the shows and the singers most likely students. It would be something different and I had nothing to lose. On the eve of the event, I received an email urging patrons to arrive early as all the capacity (circa 300) had been sold. It politely requested that any reserved tickets no longer required should be returned in order to reallocate them to those on the waiting list. By this point, Nicole had decided she would give it a miss and I messaged the booking agency to say I no longer had a plus-one. The original communication also stated there was only one toilet in the church and I made sure I didn't drink anything before heading into town to meet up with Linda and Mum. We wandered into the abbey and, er, took a pew. The performance was scheduled to last an hour and the composer said a few words before the start. The piece had been written to commemorate the 750th anniversary of Bruce's birth and was described as a new genre, designed to resonate with the acoustics of a cathedral interior. Following a 10-minute organ overture with live recitation by poet Alan Riach - Professor of Scottish Literature at Glasgow University - the singers launched into action, performing in front of the pulpit in a largely static manner. The text was in 14th-century Scots and printed inside the programme (with contemporary translation alongside). However, it seemed the language was largely irrelevant from a listening standpoint as the booming operatic tones were difficult to decipher, even if one could comprehend the written version. I quite enjoyed the spectacle and the crowd rose to its feet at the end, with a few fans queueing for selfies with King Robert. Mum has seen quite a few professional opera productions on large stages and pointed out that tonight's show was more akin to choral singing. Mainstream opera is acted out, as well as voiced. Still, it was nice to see the old church bursting at the seams, something that rarely happens at regular Sunday services as the resident minister had joked as she introduced the proceedings. A meal afterwards at a Brewer's Fayre restaurant sealed a fine evening out.