Edinburgh - my city of birth. I had seen all the familiar sights many times but never walked out to the "other" castle on the south side. Originally constructed a mile outside the town walls, Craigmillar Castle's story is inextricably linked with the capital city but also retains a sense of detachment. I wanted to go for a wander before my monthly German conversation group and Craigmillar Park lies just over three miles from Princes Street. With the meet-up venue handily situated on my return route, it all tied nicely together.
The navigational strategy was simple. Start on North Bridge and keep going. I arrived in the city centre by bus. The train hadn't been an option tonight as ScotRail are currently running a restricted timetable and the last service from Edinburgh to Fife departs at 8pm. A general shortage of drivers coupled with a dispute that has led to existing staff refusing to work overtime. Perhaps not the most auspicious start to our newly nationalised rail network. The sun was out in the city centre and I turned on to North Bridge to begin tonight's mission. A two-mile straight walk - via several changes of street name - would bring me to the Cameron Toll shopping centre. This stretch I knew very well. I did my teacher training in Edinburgh and resided in the student halls just a stone's throw from the Cameron Toll. I often walked into the city centre when I didn't have the money (or couldn't find the spare change) for one of the many bus services that run up and down this long drag. I planned to have a swatch at the old gaff on the way back. Although I did a lot of walking in my student days, it was nearly always as a means to reach a destination such as a pub, railway station, library etc. Pleasure rambling didn't figure highly - although I did the odd bit here and there. The hike up to Cameron Toll was a mixture of the familiar and the new. With a few decades of life experience behind you, it becomes clear that no city stays the same. You could probably make the same argument about most people. I had only ever walked towards the city centre from my student digs and hadn't ever visited Craigmillar Park, which lies just a short distance behind the shopping centre. An entrance was cut into a stone wall and signed as Lady Susan's Walk - apparently named after Miss Susan Gilmour (born 1870) - daughter of the Earl of Beauchamp - who used the path to wander from her home at Inch House to Craigmillar Castle. The two estates had become intertwined over the years and The A-listed Inch House was purchased by Edinburgh Corporation in 1946 and now functions as a community hub. The aristocrats of course led very separate lives from ordinary citizens and wealthy estates were routinely surrounded by substantial walls and often screened by tall trees. The path took me towards the modest summit of Craigmillar Hill, although the elevation was sufficient to open up nice views to the north and south.
I photographed the castle from various angles and walked up to the entrance gate. It was after office hours but the entrance gate was open and gave me access to the lawn in front of the curtain wall. Craigmillar is regarded as one of the best preserved medieval fortresses in the land and construction is believed to have begun in the late 1400s, with major additions made throughout the following century. There are strong connections to Mary, Queen of Scots, who stayed on two occasions. On her second visit, Mary was in poor health following a serious illness. She gave an audience to the French ambassador, who had arrived for the baptism of Prince James. Several of her noblemen suggested that her unpopular husband Henry Stuart (Lord Darnley) could be removed, either by divorce or other means. Mary had refused to grant Darnley the Crown Matrimonial, which would have made him the successor to the throne if she died childless. Mary's private secretary David Rizzio was violently stabbed to death in 1566 by Darnley and his confederates in the presence of the pregnant queen. Rizzio was rumoured to be the father of Mary's unborn child and the murder was allegedly part of Darnley's bid to install himself as a potential future monarch. Eight months after the birth of James, Darnley himself was bumped off. Smothered with no visible marks on the body. Suspicion fell upon James Hepburn - Earl of Bothwell - who became Mary's third husband. He was put on trial but acquitted. Bothwell would eventually meet a squalid end in a Danish prison while Mary was executed at Fotheringhay Castle in 1587. Who knows what machinations took place at Craigmillar and whether or not they had a direct bearing on subsequent events. To say our history is murky is quite an understatement! After exploring the perimeter of the castle, I made my way back towards town and arrived at the Pear Tree for the meet-up. A sign on the bar informed me all purchases were strictly card only. This was the first time I'd seen a pub refusing hard currency. A completely unnecessary measure in my opinion. I ordered a pint glass of coke and £3.50 was magically zapped out of my account.
The world was completely different when I spent the 95/96 academic year at Buchanan Hall, East Suffolk Road, training to be a maths and computing teacher. Five buildings surrounded an expansive central grassy area and the site was originally developed as Scotland's first residence for exclusively female students attending Edinburgh University, Edinburgh Art College and Moray House College of Education. Sold off to private developers around the turn of the century, the somewhat austere student accommodation was converted into modern apartments. I found one flat advertised for 300 grand and another available to rent at £1850 per month. This represented a substantial increase on the £60 a week my half-board and lodgings cost. No doubt the university swelled their coffers by divesting themselves of an asset that was in need of modernisation and I can only assume students are now housed in a box-like structure elsewhere in the city, built from the proceeds with a tidy sum left over. I had been happy here, although the dual subject workload was heavy and I spent most evenings behind the old-style writing bureau in my tiny single room. There were no ensuite facilities but I did enjoy a soak in the large cast-iron bath tubs along the corridor. Meals were served in a traditional dining hall and incoming communication was via the ancient payphone downstairs, which I often had to answer as my room was well with earshot, then go and knock on someone's door to inform him/her of the call. It's easy to forget that virtually nobody - barring a few nerds - was online in 1995. Email addresses barely existed among the general population and job /college applications were submitted by post. The information superhighway was starting to appear on the horizon but most people were stuck at the traffic lights. I consider it an advantageous position to have been fully conversant in both worlds. I reflected upon all these changes that had occurred of the last quarter of a century as I had a quick look around the old quadrangle. Everything changes, even the pace of change.
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