Paisley Doors Open Day

The month of September offers many opportunities to explore local heritage across Scotland. Each local authority organises a programme for Doors Open Day, allowing the public to tour historic buildings and other interesting locations. Having a peek behind the scenes is all part of the experience. I perused the online brochure and noticed Paisley was offering a number of venues that appealed to me as part of the Renfrewshire schedule. I took a bus to Glasgow and wandered down to Central Station, where frequent trains depart along a busy channel to Paisley Gilmour Street, a mere ten minutes away. The four-platform early-Victorian facility opened in 1840 and services fan out to Greenock, Wemyss Bay, Largs and Ayr/Stranraer.

Scotland now has eight official cities but Paisley - despite having a population of 80,000 - remains steadfastly a town. Our largest at that! I was on familiar ground as I’d undertaken a heritage walk a couple of years ago. Today's itinerary encompassed as handful of sites in the town centre, which meant the walking distances would be short. My first port of call was the Russell Institute, now a council-owned employment hub. A tour had just started as I arrived and I joined the group. The A-listed building was commissioned by Agnes Russell and donated to Paisley Burgh, as a memorial to her two bachelor brothers Robert and Thomas who had run a successful law firm in the town. Miss Russell stipulated that the building be used as a clinic for the children of Renfrewshire and placed no financial restrictions on the construction phase. Work commenced in 1924 and the project made architectural history by using the first skeleton fabric of reinforced concrete in the West of Scotland. It was clad in Blaxter Freestone from the Borders, on a base of black Aberdeen granite. The windows were arranged to provide the maximum amount of natural light without distracting from the overall external appearance and have quite imperishable bronze frames. Italian marble was used internally to embellish the large hall and main staircase. Busts of the brothers ("Rab" and "Tam") flank the first set of bannisters. The formal opening ceremony was performed by the Princess Royal in 1927 but Miss Russell unfortunately didn't live to see this event, having passed away the previous year. The property was eventually absorbed into the NHS and functioned as a medical centre until 2011, when it closed. After a few years of dereliction, Renfrewshire Council secured funding from the Scottish Government through the Regeneration Capital Grant Fund, Historic Environment Scotland to help restore the building and bring it back into public use. The tour progressed through the various rooms, some of which weren't yet incorporated into the new skills hub. The old gymnasium reminded me of my early days at Beath High School on the original campus. We were shown the ancient elevator and some of the old electrical boxes and bell systems that had been left on display. A visit to the courtyard revealed hidden entrances and disused storerooms. The whole experience really did have a behind-the-curtains feel about it. Highly enjoyable. A short walk brough me to my next destination, the imposing Paisley Abbey.

Founded around 1163 as a priory by Walter FitzAlan, High Steward of Scotland, the abbey is believed to occupy the site of a Celtic church established by St Mirin in the 6th or 7th century. Not much concrete detail is known about Mirin (c. 565 - c. 620) and it is difficult to separate fact from fable. His name lives on through the local football team St Mirren - who have had many ups and downs over the years. A Catholic cathedral church in Paisley also bears the Mirin moniker. Full abbey status was granted in 1245 - answerable only to the Pope in Rome. Under royal patronage, the institution quickly became wealthy and powerful. The abbots became power brokers in national as well as local politics, and the settlement of Paisley grew around the flourishing abbey, which became a centre of trade and learning. It is rumoured that legendary freedom fighter William Wallace was schooled here. English forces burned down the abbey in 1307 as retaliation for the fifth High Steward supporting the Scottish cause during the Wars of Independence. The church was rebuilt over the remainder of the century. The sixth Steward (Walter Stewart) married Marjory Bruce, daughter of King Robert in 1315. Marjory died at the abbey the following year after a tragic riding accident, but her baby was saved and became King Robert II of Scotland - the first of the Stewart monarchs. Our present King is descended from him. Marjory is interred at Paisley, along with the two wives of Robert II. A grand tomb marks the resting place of King Robert III, for whom Queen Victoria laid a memorial stone on her visit to the abbey in 1888. A wall plaque commemorates the six High Stewards (and their wives) who are buried within the church. Seven years prior to the Scottish Reformation of 1560, the central tower collapsed and destroyed the transepts and choir. There was no serious prospect of repair during the great religious change and the walled-off nave became the parish church of Paisley. Restoration commenced in the mid-1800s and was largely complete by 1910. A magnificent timber ceiling was added in 1981. I wandered around the cavernous church, admiring the interior architecture and stained-glass windows. I decided to climb the tower, paying £4 to a local Scout troop that was organising the experience.

Our group was given the nod to ascend the narrow spiral staircase. It was a long way to the top but worth the effort as the view across the town was stupendous. The A-listed Anchor Mill with its flame-red brick exterior (pictured right) was visible by the White Cart Water. Opened in 1886, it was home to the largest thread manufacturer in the world - J & P Coats Ltd. Industrial decline forced closure in 1980. Work began in 2003 to transform the derelict textile factory into 60 luxury apartments and an innovative business space. The £11 million refurbishment respected the original structure and style, restoring the stonework, lead trimmings, arched windows, wrought iron frame, concrete floors and central atrium. The Prince of Wales opened the restored building in 2005, much to the delight of the local community. Today, it remains an exquisite reminder of Paisley’s proud industrial past and forward-thinking future. We had around 20 minutes on the rooftop to enjoy the Paisley panorama before being led back down. It had been a great start to the day and I headed along the High Street, in search of a doorway that would take me below ground-level into to the Paisley Museum store - known locally as the Secret Collection. I was ushered down a flight of steps and a long corridor stretched ahead of me, with glass-fronted storerooms on either side. Museums often own more material than they can actually display at any one time and a diverse range of objects were featured here today. The town's textile heritage was well represented with looms, spinning equipment, printing blocks, shawls and pattern books. Paisley was also known worldwide for producing thread. Other collections were drawn from the fields of archaeology, social history, science, ceramics, natural history and world cultures. In total, around 350,000 items are held in the vaults. An interesting walk through an Aladdin's cave of treasures! The actual museum is currently undergoing a £45 million refit and is scheduled to reopen in 2025 - a couple of years later than anticipated. I shall certainly visit. I walked past the rebuilding project en route to my next destination, the John Neilson Institution - known affectionately as the Porridge Bowl due to the shape of its dome. Neilson, a Paisley merchant, set up a trust to build a boy's school for disadvantaged learners and the project was complete by 1852. Entry was granted to pupils who had lived in Paisley for a least three years, and whose parents were either poor or deceased. The school eventually moved to new premises in 1968 and the original building (now A-listed) was converted to luxury apartments in the 1990s. The central atrium (formerly the school hall) is available to view on Doors Open Day.

I gazed up at the glass dome that floods the communal space with natural light. Several doors led off to private flats and information about the building's history was posted on the walls. The centrepiece of the redevelopment is a statue of Greek philosopher Diogenes, who holds a miniature porridge bowl in his left hand. The artwork was designed by famed local sculptor Alexander Stoddart, who is a former John Neilson's pupil and currently the King's Sculptor in Ordinary for Scotland - a royal household position created by Queen Victoria in 1838. I walked downhill and passed below the railway line to reach the next venue on the list, grabbing a bite to eat on the way. Paisley Sheriff Court has occupied its current premises since 1885. Once again, a tour was just departing as I arrived and I joined the group. Quite a few families were present. An open day is a cheap excursion and I should imagine the chance to see the cells and climb aboard the paddy wagon appeals to kids. Certainly more so than old churches. We were led through the secure corridors and invited to peek through the bars. Perhaps a few temporary residents would arrive later in the evening. The secure vehicle used to transport prisoners could hold around 20 people and was decidedly cramped. Then it was up to the main courtroom to observe a mock trial and learn about the judicial process. The tour the proceeded to a grand part of the building that formerly served as the central offices for Renfrewshire County Council until 1971. The rooms are now used for small-scale hearings and various legal meetings. For my final stop of the day, I planned to combine an educational visit with some liquid refreshment. It was the first time I'd ever seen a working brewery feature on the Doors Open schedule and - moreover - the tap room would be open to visitors. An easy wander to an industrial estate on the fringes of the town centre brought me to the headquarters of Two Towns Down Brewing. This time, a tour was well in progress when I entered and I headed for the bar instead. Couldn't have timed it better! I perused the selection board and ordered myself a pint of These Streets - a 4% pale ale priced at £5.50. Twelve taps were in action and a wide variety of styles on offer, including a bought-in cider. I got chatting to the barman and found out that Two Towns Down isn't a cask-ale operation, rather high-quality keg. Arguments have raged among CAMRA (Campaign for Real Ale) members over recent years about the emergence of lovingly-made craft beer. My opinion on the matter is quite simple. It may not fit the strict definitions of real ale in terms of storage and dispense, but it can be bloody tasty. Good enough in my book.

Like many modern microbreweries, Two Towns Down is situated within a light industrial estate. Owner Sandy McKelvie was formerly employed at 71 Brewing Dundee, before moving back to his home turf in 2023 to establish Paisley's first new brewery in over a century. The tap room is open every Saturday from 2pm to 10pm and takeaway cans can also be purchased. I sampled a half pint of Orange Crush stout and managed to get it down before the start of the next tour was called. As a small producer, everything was contained in one room and the processes of mashing, fermenting and conditioning were explained to us. One of the large vessels had a dent in the side, apparently damaged in transit from China. The filled kegs are drained by thirsty customers on site or are sent out to the pub trade. As is the case with most new craft breweries, cans rather than bottles are the favoured method of packaging for retail outlets. I had always assumed this was to keep the weight down during transportation but - while that is a factor - the main reason is that canning machinery is cheaper to install and takes up far less space than a bottling line. Back at the bar, I tried a half pint of Mango Pale Ale (a whopping 7%) and head honcho Sandy came over for a chat. It was good to see the place doing a fairly brisk trade. Not everyone was here just for the open day. Greater Glasgow was always a tough nut for the cask ale brewers to crack. Tennent's Lager rules the roost but craft ales are finding a way into the market. Best of luck to Two Towns Down. I made my merry way back to Gilmour Street and hopped on a train to Glasgow Central. A fascinating day.

Cold War Scotland

While visiting visiting the National Museum of Scotland for the major computer gaming exhibition, I also checked out Cold War Scotland - a free display exploring the impact of this 40-year global nuclear stand-off. Scots played an active role in the eerie conflict, as soldiers within intelligence services and as part of voluntary civil defence organisations. The gallery explains how Scotland’s unique landscape provided a useful base for military preparations and research. Visitors can browse the exhibition until the end of January, 2025.

Today we can freely roam around Eas tourists and - until Brexit - we had the right and work in many countries. None of this was possible in the eastern half of the continent until the Cold War finally began to thaw in the early 90s. The landmark event was the fall of the Berlin Wall in November, 1989. I was just about to turn 18 and watched with great interest as the old regimes collapsed in several Soviet satellite states. Had I actually been East German, I would probably have been part of the last generation to face compulsory military service in the communist times. In the aftermath of WW2, tensions had risen between the USA and USSR. Alliances were formed and although the ideologically opposed superpowers did not directly declare war on each other, they supported violent conflicts in other territories around the world. The Korean War was the first major flare-up and around 1100 British personnel were killed in this theatre. Located geographically between the belligerents, Scotland was close enough to the Soviet Union to serve as a useful listening post. Many Scots soldiers were posted to bases in West Germany - a country that faced the eastern bloc. The American military established footholds in Scotland and the deep waters of the Clyde estuary (with airports and industrial facilities nearby) offered a prime location for the US Navy. In 1961,they set up shop on Holy Loch (near Dunoon) which had been used as a British submarine base during WW2. The arrival of American personnel in a sparsely populated part of the country boosted the local economy and changed the way of life in this corner of Argyll. Up in Angus, the US Navy established a listening station at the old RAF Edzell base to track Soviet military radio signals. This operation wasn’t stood down until 1997. The Royal Navy also had a presence on the Clyde. Faslane was home to nuclear hardware such as submarines and the controversial Trident missiles. A peace camp was set up outside the site boundaries in 1982 and is still in existence today, making it the longest continually occupied protest community in the world. At the height of the Cold War, Civil Defence depots were often located in out of the way places and the motorcycle pictured below was kept at Lochgilphead to enable speedy communications should an emergency arise. A national four-minute warning strategy was primed to give the public instructions in the event of an incoming nuclear attack. It wasn’t abandoned until 1992. In a strange parallel, atomic energy was touted as a clean and efficient alternative to fossil fuels. Construction began on a new power station at Chapelcross in Dumfriesshire. It produced nuclear power between 1959 and 2004 and is currently undergoing a lengthy decommissioning process, with final site clearance planned for the 2090s! Dounreay in Caithness hosted a similar generating complex and this led to the population of Thurso trebling to 9000. Russian factory ships were regular visitors to Scotland’s northern and western ports, purchasing fishing catches to be processed.

The implosion of the Soviet Union in 1991 signalled the end of the Cold War. Many structures survive around Scotland and the Secret Bunker near Crail (Fife) is now a major tourist attraction. Had nuclear war broken out, key government figures would have run Scotland from the underground chambers. This all seems like another world nowadays, but the threat was very real while it lasted. An informative little exhibition that is worth checking out.

Computer Games Exhibition

In addition to the superb range of permanent galleries, the National Museum of Scotland in Chambers Street, Edinburgh, hosts a couple of special exhibitions each year. Entry to these events is currently £12 and the latest offering is Game On - an interactive display about the history and culture of computer games. Many of the key titles produced over the last half century are available to play in person.

The touring extravaganza is actually making its second appearance at the Edinburgh museum. It began life in 2002, opening in London and heading north of the border later that year. I attended and my memory is naturally a little fuzzy after 22 years. I do remember the place being very busy and it was difficult to get near some of the games. This time around there is a time-slot booking system and visitors are asked to spend no more than two hours inside. Naturally the exhibition has been modified over the intervening years as game technology itself has advanced by leaps and bounds. Game On has toured the world and in each country it reflects some of the local gaming history. Scotland has a strong foothold in the industry, producing numerous hits such as Grand Theft Auto, Lemmings, Crackdown and Highland Song. Rockstar Games and 4J Studious (both based in Dundee) are major players in the market. As expected, the initial displays dealt with the embryonic video games in America. Early experiments with draughts and noughts & crosses were superseded in 1962 by Spacewar - a mainframe galaxy duel that became tremendously popular among science students on college campuses. The research computers that powered the game were prohibitively expensive and there was no prospect of releasing a version to the general public. Spacewar player Nolan Bushnell, along with Ted Dabney, hit upon the ideal of building their own computer with a minimal number of functional components. They created Computer Space - a game for one player, inspired by Spacewar, with the computer controlling the other spaceships. Bushnell and Dabney persuaded a pinball manufacturer to design a suitable cabinet (pictured below) and market the game, but it failed to catch on. Bushnell then founded the company Atari, which went on to become a household name in the gaming world. The big commercial breakthrough came in 1972 with Pong, essentially a basic table tennis simulation. Anyone could quickly get to grips with the familiar bat-and-ball action and the two player mode gave the arcade game a strong social and competitive element that turned it into a huge success. Millions of Americans popped quarters into the coin slot. By 1975, home consoles were being produced on a worldwide basis. They connected directly to a standard television and thus home computer gaming was born. I vaguely remember my Auntie Rona bringing Pong to our house when I was around six years old. The end of the 70s and early 80s witnessed a huge boom in arcade-style cabinet gaming. Many classics were released, beginning with Space Invaders in 1978.

One of the most successful shooting challenges, the aim is to prevent an array of alien spaceships reaching the surface by blasting them out of the sky, while dodging their return fire and sheltering behind defensive blocks, which themselves gradually disintegrate due to enemy strikes (or your own mistimed flak). It's a simple concept, yet endlessly playable and the controls can be learned within seconds. The popularity of Space Invaders marked a turning point for the accessibility of arcade games, spreading them beyond specialist halls and adult-only bars. Family environments such as cinemas, shopping malls and cafés now featured rows of coin-operated cabinets and a young generation of gamers emerged. Electronic characters began to enter popular culture and who isn't able to visualise Pac-Man, regardless of whether you've played the game or not? The yellow chomper was unleashed in 1980 and originally called Puck Man. Due to teenagers scratching off part of the leading letter and creating a different concept for the character, he was swiftly renamed. Again the gameplay was simple to understand. Use a single joystick to guide Pac-Man around the maze, gobbling up all the pills in sight. Meanwhile, four ghosts (Inky, Pinky, Blinky & Clyde) pursue Pac-Man and a life is lost if one of them catches up. Eating a fruit temporarily allows Pac-Man to turn the tables and kill the ghosts. This "power up" feature was innovative at the time. Pac-Man was an early example of a game character moving into other spheres such as merchandise, music and television. The exhibition then presented it's top-10 selection of home gaming consoles - all available to try. The Fairchild Channel F was the first to use interchangeable cartridges but it was Atari who cornered this market with the 2600 device, released in 1977. I remember a couple of schoolfriends having this hardware and each game cost around £30. Equivalent to over £100 today. If I remember correctly, the console itself cost £99 in the early 80s (it had been launched in 1978 at £199). An American crash came in 1983 after a much-hyped game based on the wildly successful E.T. movie had been rush-released for the previous Christmas. It was roundly panned and was the straw that broke the camel's back. In truth, the market had been saturated with a glut of inferior copy-cat consoles and below-par games. Atari had already blotted its copybook with a much-anticipated home version of Pac-Man that - despite wildly successful sales - was criticised for having poor graphics and sound.

Home microcomputers stepped into the breach and soared in popularity. The cassette format (or floppy disk) for games was a far cheaper proposition than pre-programmed cartridges and the Sinclair ZX Spectrum became one of the most popular machines in the UK. There were downsides. Games could take several minutes to load and the rubber keys on the early Spectrum models weren't conducive to rapid typing. Sound capability and colour range were also limited. However, the sheer affordability of the whole package ensured that a "Speccy" was a Christmas wish within the reach of many families. The device was the brainchild of Clive Sinclair, who had pioneered the electronic pocket calculator and made headway with an ultra-basic computer called the ZX81. Launched in 1982, the Spectrum became a huge success, outstripping rivals such as the Commodore 64 and the BBC Micro (both solid contenders). I spent many happy hours playing away on the original rubber-keyed release and later the more robust +2 model. The whole family joined in the fun and there were always people at school looking to swap games. A new title typically cost between £5 and £10. High Street newsagents sold the cassettes and there was a huge range available via mail order. The inevitable improvements in technology caused the Speccy to wane as a commercial force as the 90s rolled around, but what an impact it left! Later releases had been increasingly sophisticated but ultimately more powerful machines such as the Commodore Amiga and Atari ST began to muscle in. PC games were also entering the market. Consoles did come back with a vengeance as successive generations of high quality units were produced by Sega, Sony, Nintendo and Microsoft. On a personal level, I moved away from gaming as I entered my 20s, although I did dabble with my younger brother's Sega Mega Drive and I sourced a bargain Commodore Amiga in 1996 for a final throw of the dice. I just found other interests and as a result of my own life experiences, I found the retro elements of the exhibition far more interesting than the 21st-century gaming scene, vastly immersive as it is. I wandered over to the table covered in handheld 80s devices. I picked up Puck Monster, which I once owned. An obvious Pac-Man clone, I think it cost £30 and I bought the device with my birthday money. With just one gaming mode on offer, I quickly became proficient.

Today I was out of practice and my measly score a mere fraction of what I could achieve at the age of 14. I tried my luck at a few more vintage arcade cabinets - Donkey Kong, Asteroids and Missile Command - with varying degrees of success. Unfortunately I couldn't get near Monaco GP - a driving game I played many times in my youth (along with Pole Position). The newer exhibition material was grouped by genre. My attempts at playing were hampered by the complexities of contemporary controllers. No longer a simple joystick and a couple of buttons at the side. Learning the various press combinations is an art form in itself. Of course the 10-year-olds standing next to me were completely unfazed. The concept of game characters was also explored. Names such as Mario, Lara Croft and Sonic the Hedgehog were discussed. Nowadays players can even build their own avatar, which becomes part of their playing identity. Despite the advanced nature of modern technology, simple ideas do still hit paydirt and a prime example is Angry Birds - a simple but addictive slingshot premise that became a global phenomenon on early tablets and smartphones. The touch-screen interface was perfect for pulling back the elastic and letting fly. As of 2018, the game has been downloaded four billion times. Gaming now covers a wide demographic, with many females taking part, The stereotype of the teenage boy hunched over a screen no longer represents reality. It can also be a highly sociable activity, with global networking allowing gamers to communicate effortlessly with each other and form friendships. Yes, we have come a long way since the days of hitting a little white ball back and forth.