The month of September is an interesting time for local explorers. A wide variety of locations across Scotland participate in the Doors Open Day scheme, allowing the public to see behind the scenes and often visit places that are not usually accessible. Each Council Area organises its own programme of events and the action takes place on Saturdays and Sundays. Fife divides its schedule across three weekends, geographically grouping the listings. First up at the beginning of the month was East Fife.
My mum often accompanies me on local Doors Open expeditions and we picked out three places we hadn't seen before. Monimail Tower and walled garden is situated just beyond Letham, a small village I have skirted hundreds of times on the A92. Today would be my first foray into Letham itself and there were rows of charming cottages. Monimail is a hamlet around half a mile further on and the name also denotes the surrounding parish. The present day church sits between Letham and Monimail but the religious significance of the area runs far deeper. The Palace of Monimail was the regular residence of the Bishops of St Andrews from the 13th century until the reformation and at one time a fine Renaissance building stood upon the site. The land was sold to the Melville family in 1592 and Melville House was erected a century later. By this time the tower was the only feature of the palace still standing and the other foundations were eventually buried when a complex of large walled gardens was constructed in the 1820s, drastically changing the landscape levels. The tower was retained as an ornamental folly and the basement converted to an ice house. After a period of military requisition during WW2, when elite auxiliary troops were trained, the Melville Estate was purchased in 1950 by Dalhousie Preparatory Boarding School and this arrangement lasted until 1971. Outside of term time, the mansion and its grounds were used as a residential centre by the educational organisation Outward Bound. The aim was to encourage individuals to test their physical and emotional limits in challenging outdoor adventure programs. Fife Council later took over the premises and etsablished a school for pupils with behavioural difficulties. We had a look around the walled garden and went through a door on the far side to follow a path around some heavily laden apple trees. I climbed the spiral staircase inside the tower and read the information panels within the two exhibition rooms. The highlight was strolling around the rooftop, admiring the green rural vista. I could see the top of Melville House poking above the trees a couple of hundred yards away. The Monimail Tower Project purchased the garden and surrounding woodland in 1985. Established as a therapeutic retreat, the focus has gradually shifted to an environmental theme. A permanent community of around ten lives and works on site and an organic permaculture is promoted. A wide range of workshops is offered, examples being basket weaving, scything, bee keeping, charcoal making and mushroom growing. The Monimail Tower Preservation Trust was founded in 1992 and the structure is now weathertight. People came from far and wide to be trained in traditional construction skills. This hidden piece of local ecclesiastical history has been safeguarded for generations to come. Meanwhile, the A-listed Melville house is now in private hands, after becoming vacant at the turn of the century. In 2005, it earned the dubious distinction of being the most expensive repossession in Scottish legal history after an ambitious renovation programme ground to a halt. I considered putting in a bid, but baulked when I discovered the heating costs alone amounted to £35,000 per year!
Light refreshments were available by the garden entrance but we passed as we had to drive 20 miles across Fife to the seaside town of Anstruther. The next venue on the list was Dreel Halls, a community space fashioned from a cluster of historic buildings. En route we passed through Cupar - the county town - and the tiny village of Pitscottie. The patchwork of country roads took us past Scotland's Secret Bunker - a cavernous underground command chamber to which the government would have retreated in the event of nuclear war. A fascinating tourist attraction if you are ever looking for a quirky day out. Rolling into Anstruther, we managed to park by the mouth of the Dreel Burn. It was a beautiful day and we gazed across to the beach and harbour. The halls were just 100 yards distant and we noted the new set of stepping blocks across the river, providing a handy short-cut towards the town centre. We wandered up a narrow street called Esplanade, which featured a number of heritage properties such as Shipmaster's House and an old manse. Dreel Halls has an entrance on the main road and the premises are owned by the Anstruther Improvements Association, a membership charity with a board of volunteer trustees tasked with keeping the asset in public hands. Two function rooms have been tastefully restored and are available for private hire. Rates are pegged at a reasonable level and a diverse range of regular community activities is offered, including cinema nights, craft workshops and meet-up groups for mothers, babies and toddlers. Tea and coffee was being served in the downstairs space today but we began our tour by heading up to the first floor to view the smaller hall. From here I was able to climb the stairs inside the 16th-century bell tower. The guide on the upper level explained the clock chimes were now electrically controlled and the mechanism no longer needed regular winding. I was able to wander around the parapet of the A-listed structure and the views across the town were sublime. The sun illuminated the beach and harbour perfectly and I took the wonderful image below with my iPhone. One of my personal all-time favourite captures.
The Dreel Halls have been fashioned from the 18th-century council chambers and a former church, deconsecrated in 1961 following the merger of Anstruther Easter and Wester parishes. The formerly separate properties have now been knocked into one and the next major project to be tackled is the installation of a lift to the first floor. No doubt the fund raising schemes never cease but a massive amount of progress has been made already and the public seem to be supportive of the venture. I had a look at the online bookings calendar for the month ahead and only five days were blank. We descended to the pop-up café in the lower hall and ordered coffee and cake, chucking a few quid into the donation jar. I'm always happy to chip in, as people go out of their way to make these open days run smoothly. A lot of work goes on behind the scenes and nothing happens by magic. So far the day had been successful. New facts learned and two lovely panoramic views from ancient towers. Fife always has a good spread of options for Doors Open Day. But the day wouldn't be complete until we saw a working church! I say this rather facetiously as the programme always has a healthy contingent of places of worship. The Auld Kirk at St Monans appeared to be the best candidate. Perched above the coastline with superb sea views, we would be passing the village on the way home anyway. It would be worth stopping by. St Monans is one of several fishing villages in the East Neuk of Fife. The narrow streets evolved in the days before car ownership and it was a tricky drive along to the church, which ironically had ample parking facilities, right on the edge of the village in an elevated spot across the Invererie Burn. From the car-park, we looked down upon the churchyard and out to sea. Worth coming for the view alone. In the end, that's all we experienced as descending to the church entrance would have meant a steep climb for Mum after the visit. She was already approaching her physical limit for the day and we decided to appreciate the surroundings before heading homewards.
The kirk was founded by King David II and dates from the 14th century, one of the few remaining medieval Scottish examples still in regular use. The church is also said to be closer than any other to the sea. The future however is uncertain as dwindling income from the falling congregation has led to religious chiefs exploring various options. A working group has recommended the formation of a local trust to assume the responsibility of running the building. Cold hard decisions have to be made by the authorities and a lengthy history and/or favourable location does not always amount to sufficient grounds for retention in the present form. Placing the asset in the care of the community sounds nice in theory but finance will have to be raised and enough volunteers found to make the scheme viable. The church's A-listed status safeguards it against demolition, but not dereliction. Around 50 churches across Fife have recently been earmarked for potential closure, an indication of the changing nature of society.
The following weekend, I crossed the Firth of Forth for West Lothian Doors Open Day. Mum came along for the ride and we selected the Canal Centre at Linlithgow. The 32-mile Union Canal passes through the historic town and runs from the Falkirk Wheel (where it joins the Forth & Clyde Canal) to the Lochrin Basin terminus in Edinburgh. Linlithgow hosts Scotland's only dedicated canal museum and there is an adjacent tearoom. Both operations are housed within converted stables on the wharf. Regular short boat trips are offered, in addition to a weekly excursion to the Avon Aqueduct and occasional journeys all the way to the Falkirk Wheel - the spectacular rotating boat lift that raises and lowers barges between the two canal levels. The 80-foot differential was previously bridged by a flight of 11 locks.
The Canal Centre can be visited on weekend afternoons from April to September. Or daily during school summer holidays. Regular venues often appear in the Doors Open listings, usually with the enticement of a special tour. However, it seemed to be business as usual today. Not to worry, as I'd had the place on my radar for a while. A couple of volunteer guides were chatting to people on the quayside. Perhaps the one concession to Doors Open Weekend. The operation is run by the Linlithgow Union Canal Society (LUCS), formed in 1975 when the basin and surrounding buildings were derelict and the waterway barely navigable (or completely blocked) in places. Final closure had been announced a decade earlier and the canal left to nature. The LUCS set about cleaning up and developing their own patch. The museum opened in 1977 and trips to the Avon Aqueduct were possible by the early 90s. The new millennium brought a huge leap forward as funding was made available to restore the entire Union and Forth & Clyde Canals. This expensive project involved major engineering works, including taking the canals over or under motorways, digging out the lengthy culvert at Wester Hailes and of course constructing the Falkirk Wheel. The old lock staircase had been filled in as far back as 1933. Demand for the cross-country shipment of freight had all but disappeared. Since 2002, the Union Canal - originally completed in 1822 - has been fully open for (mainly leisure) business. We perused the museum display and I learned many new facts about the construction and extent of the canal. I hadn't realised it ran a little deeper into Edinburgh than the present end point at Lochrin. A photo in the museum revealed that Port Hopetoun, adjacent to Lothian Road, was the original terminus but this site was infilled to make way for the construction of Lothian House. Apparently the building has a canal barge carved into the stonework. I'll need to look out for this next time I'm passing. Mum informed me she worked there as a teenager! Cobbinshaw Reservoir in the Pentland Hills provides the water source, via the River Almond and a specially constructed feeder link (effectively a mini canal). Overflow outlets that drain into nearby streams allow the canal to self regulate its water level but a sudden influx from a storm can overwhelm this basic system. Therefore a number of manually operated sluices and plugholes allow large volumes to be drained if necessary. In England, it was common for canal workers to live on barges but this tradition did not develop in Scotland, due to the shorter distances involved.
The British inland waterway network pre-dates the railways and was built without earth moving machinery. Picks, shovels and wheelbarrows were utilised by the workforce, formally known as navigators, from which the more familiar term navvy is derived. The museum featured an excellent photo of the construction process, pictured left. Many of the labourers came from Ireland. Among them were William Burke and William Hare, who worked on the Union Canal at Falkirk. They later found a better paying profession in the grisly art of body snatching and, eventually, serial murder. Chief consultant on the project was Thomas Telford, a Dumfriesshire man famous for building roads, waterways and bridges throughout the United Kingdom. He pioneered the laying of iron troughs on aqueducts, allowing the structure to be significantly lighter than one consisting solely of stone. After much political wrangling over the route (and delays due to the financial implications of the Napoleonic Wars), the canal was greenlit in 1817 and engineer Hugh Baird oversaw its construction. Two centuries down the line, major civil engineering projects are affected by the same types of issues. The Union Canal follows the land contours which reduces the amount of major earthworks required but means you end up with a meandering course rather than a direct connection. I wandered out to the quayside where Mum had found a seat on a bench. We watched a couple of boats chug by and I fetched an ice cream from the tearoom. Today's canal is a blue ribbon passing through rural and urban parts of Central Scotland. A large amount of wildlife is supported and it's nice to have the entire system available for leisure pursuits, following decades of abandonment after commercial activities had ceased to be viable. The Canal Centre complex offers a place to relax as well as the opportunity to learn about our industrial history. Three miles to the east is the Bridge 49 café bar and bistro, where you can eat and drink al fresco by the water. We had enjoyed a leisurely lunch there today before commencing our exploration. Bridge 49 and LUCS offer a cruise and dine water taxi service that can accommodate parties of up to 40 people. The trip takes an hour each way and the barge waits for the group to have a meal before heading back.
On the towpath opposite the museum stands a bronze statue of Dudley the cat. The sculpture is a tribute to Dudley's owner Liz Burrows, who lived by the canal and was heavily involved in local projects. She also bequeathed a large sum to Burgh Beautiful Linlithgow - an organisation formed to enhance the Royal Burgh's historic environment through horticultural, environmental and community activities. It aims to encourage civic pride and make the town more attractive to visitors. Dudley himself was frequently spotted strutting along the banks. No doubt fully convinced that he owned the place! Learmonth Gardens are just a short distance away and the 16th century Ross doocot stands proudly in the corner. The beehive style building contains 370 nesting boxes within the thick rubble walls. The projecting string courses were created in an attempt to stop rats getting inside. The birds were fed on grain and provided a supply of fresh meat over the winter months. Their droppings were used as manure and also as an ingredient for gunpowder, due to the rich presence of potassium nitrate. It had been a fruitful sojourn to this ancient royal town and we drove past the palace as we began the homeward leg. One of my favourite ever walking assignments was covering the 67 miles along the towpaths of the Forth & Clyde and Union Canals. From Bowling, Dunbartonshire to Lochrin Basin in Edinburgh. Maybe one day I'll attempt the Grand Union from London to Birmingham.
Another week at work sped by and come Saturday I was bound for Glasgow. The city hosts an extensive Doors Open programme and promotes the happenings on a dedicated website. Unlike other regions, Glasgow stretches its schedule over a full calendar week, although the Monday to Friday activities are generally ticketed events such as lectures, workshops and guided walks. My bus rolled into the city centre just after 10am and I walked the short distance to George Square in order to begin my itinerary for the day. First on the list was the grand City Chambers building, the administrative heart of Glasgow. Completed in 1888 and opened by Queen Victoria, the four-floor Victorian A-listed municipal headquarters features breathtaking interior architecture. After passing through the entrance hall with its detailed floor mosaics, the self-guided tour began at the foot of the central marble staircase. I could see all the way up to the domed skylight at the top.
The first floor contained pillars, archways, carved figures and intricate plasterwork. You really had a sense of the governmental importance of the place. Corridors of power indeed. I was directed into the debating chamber where the 85 city councillors gather. Six rows of wooden curved benches are upholstered in leather and face the Lord Provost's chair. Each position is equipped with a microphone and new technology jostles with the traditional furnishings. The room also boasts two fine fireplaces. Parts of the building may feel like a museum, but this is where city policy is formulated, affecting generations to come. It is very much a working environment. Staff were on hand to answer queries and I proceeded towards the banqueting hall, glimpsing elevated views of George Square through the ample windows. The building allegedly contains more marble than the Vatican and the main staircase is the largest such example in Western Europe. I was struck by the sheer size of the banqueting hall, pictured below. The ceiling is 16 metres high and the room can comfortably accommodate 300 people. The carpets can be rolled back to unveil a wooden dance floor and a stage is located at the far end. Lighting is supplied by three ornate chandeliers that are lowered by winch and cleaned once per year. Many civic functions have been held here over the years and the walls are decorated with large murals depicting the history of the city. The building is also used to perform marriage ceremonies and a choice of several suites is available. The current local authority is simply known as Glasgow City Council but previous incarnations were Glasgow Town Council, Glasgow Corporation (1893 - 1975) and Glasgow District Council (1975 - 1996, a subdivision of Strathclyde Regional Council). All of these bodies sat within the City Chambers, which replaced the City & County Buildings (now the Old Sheriff Court) in Ingram Street. Most of modern-day municipal Glasgow belongs to historic Lanarkshire. The final part of the tour was a climb to the summit of the marble staircase. A chance to study the spectacular ceiling and view the portraits of previous provosts adorning the walls - a mix of painting styles and also photographs. Apparently each departing council chief gets to choose the artistic medium. I recognised a few faces. I made my way back downstairs and was fully satisfied with my first port of call.
I wandered along to Wellington Street and located the Baltic Chambers. This B-listed red sandstone office complex has six levels and was originally opened in 1899. Numerous modern suites are provided and my destination was the Hospital Radio Service on the fourth floor. Several people were waiting for the lift and I opted to take the stairs instead. The broadcasting operation was located at the end of a long corridor and I passed the premises of psychiatrists and financial advisors on the way. The entrance lobby had a display of posters and I noticed the faces of Ken Bruce and Paul Coia, both of whom became successful radio and TV presenters after starting out on hospital duties. The main reception room had a bank of computers and a man was busy setting up music playlists. The service covers the NHS Greater Glasgow area and all staff work on a voluntary basis. A small group of visitors was present and we were ushered into an empty studio where chairman Niall Anderson spoke about the history of the radio station and how it operates in the current digital age. Established in 1969, the channel has been based at Baltic Chambers for the past 30 years. A digital switchover took place in 2014 and the high quality internet stereo stream can be accessed from anywhere in the world. Niall informed us they have a regular listener in Brisbane and it just shows how modern technology has expanded the horizons of every radio show. Niall admitted he thought the smartphone revolution would consign hospital broadcasting to the past but the service remains strong as patients value the personal connection with presenters. He cited an example of visiting the wards a number of years ago to collect song requests. One chap asked for an obscure Eagles track, whipping out his phone to give Niall a quick preview, who suddenly realised that having a global jukebox in your pocket doesn't replace the satisfaction of hearing your chosen song played live on air and your name being read out. I had the chance to provide some personal input when we shuffled into the other studio. A programme changeover was in progress and the DJ prepared himself during a music interlude. As the song faded, the presenter announced he had a few visitors and asked me where I'd travelled from and what plans I had for the day. Another interesting place to see and I find it hard to believe the radio service relies purely upon donations. It must do a power of good in terms of patient wellbeing.
I walked along the bustling Argyll Street and turned into the Merchant City Quarter to seek out the Trades Hall. Designed by Robert Adam and completed in 1794, the building is the second oldest in Glasgow still used for its original purpose (after the cathedral). The organisation within is actually known as Trades House and this association was founded in 1604, moving into Trades Hall almost two centuries later. Adam died two years before his creation was finished and his brothers guided the project through its final stages. Glasgow expanded greatly during the industrial revolution and the 14 incorporated trades helped shape the modern city. The list reads as follows: masons, fleshers, coopers, wrights, hammermen, tailors, cordiners (leather workers), maltmen, weavers, bakers, skinners, dyers, barbers and gardeners. Women weren't formally permitted to join the federation until the year 2000. By mid-Victorian times it was announced that nothing any civilised man could want was not then manufactured in or around the city. Membership of Trades House conferred certain political privileges but there was a defined charitable role from the outset and each trade had an obligation to support craftsmen who were no longer able to work. Widows and orphans were also looked after. I entered the Grand Hall, which has a painted and gilded frieze running around the entire perimeter. It depicts the work the of the 14 trades and features a total of 161 individual figures. Text panels explained the various specialised fields and I learned that coopers didn't just make barrels, but also constructed washing tubs and brewing vats. The origin of the red and white striped barber's pole stems from the days when blood letting was the accepted treatment for various bodily ailments. Customers would sit in the barber's chair and have their arms tied to a pole before an incision was made. Maltmen (brewers) were a vital supplier of sustenance as most public sources of water were badly contaminated. Drinking ale was a far safer alternative for adults and children alike. I looked around the various rooms and discovered that Trades House supports many good causes across the city. Seven unique function rooms can be hired individually or in any combination, with exclusive use of the building. All income raised is ringfenced for charity.
I'm always curious about industrial heritage but the next venue on my list was a hidden theatrical gem. Just beyond Argyll Street lies Trongate. The Panopticon Music Hall is situated above an amusement arcade and I climbed the stairs to the first floor of the building. As I entered the historic interior, I was immediately transported back to the roaring twenties. A large screen on the stage showed vintage film footage of Glasgow and the walls were festooned with theatrical ephemera. I sat down in one of the many comfortable chairs in the centre of the room and absorbed the atmosphere. Several dozen people were milling around and a bar was doing a brisk trade at the rear. The curved balcony with old bench seating wasn't accessible and didn't appear to have been used in some considerable time. I later discovered it had been hidden behind a false ceiling for decades until the Panopticon was rediscovered in 1997, after serving as a tailor's workshop. The venue opened in 1857 as the Britannia Music Hall. Up to 1500 patrons were crammed in on a regular basis. Electricity was wired in 1896 and silent movies became part of the programme. New variety theatres sprung up in the early years of the 20th century and the traditional music halls began to look old and tired by comparison. The Britannia diversified by offering carnival games in the attic space and a menagerie in the basement. In addition, a series of small rooms contained various characters such as the world's allegedly smallest and tallest men. The venue's name was changed to the Panopticon and in 1906 a young man called Arthur Stanley Jefferson made his stage debut there. He had moved up to Scotland from Lancashire when his father was appointed manager of Glasgow's Metropole Theatre. Arthur later became known as Stan Laurel and achieved worldwide fame as part of the legendary slapstick duo Laurel and Hardy, whose hapless antics still make people laugh today. The Panopticon ran until 1938, by which time it was struggling to compete with new forms of entertainment and the doors finally closed for good. Weaver to Wearer menswear took over the premises (including the pub below) and removed the main staircase to the first floor. In the hands of a charitable trust since 1999, the venue is once again a working music hall (the oldest in Europe) and several events are staged each month. I must make the effort to attend and give the place some support. I perused the various information stands, which naturally included details of Laurel and Hardy's lengthy career. Undoubtedly the Panopticon was the highlight of my day.
I hadn't planned to view any more buildings but I was in no rush to head home and decided to walk out to the East End to see the Glasgow Women's Library. On the way, I wandered through the busy Barras - the (largely covered) street market that trades every Saturday and Sunday. The place was going like a fair and has been a Glasgow institution for decades. The Women's Library was founded in 1991, on the back of Glasgow's stint as the European City of Culture. In 2013, the operation moved permanently into the former Bridgeton Community Library - a fine Edwardian building financed by the Fife-born philanthropist Andrew Carnegie back in 1903. I walked into the main lending space. The collection has been largely donated and I was invited to browse and proceed into the former reading room, which now hosts exhibitions and serves as a meeting point. More displays were on offer upstairs and a strong theme of female empowerment is evident throughout. As you would expect, the library firmly supports diversity and LGBT issues. A wide range of events is scheduled every month and it was very interesting to learn about this important part of Glasgow's cultural scene. I trekked back to the bus station, having enjoyed everything I'd seen over the course of the day. Glasgow's miles better indeed!
The following afternoon, I was out exploring again. The programme for Perth & Kinross Council Area was in full swing and I drove up to the Perthshire town of Auchterarder, around 20 miles directly north of Dunfermline. On my radar was the old cinema that is now slated for full restoration, having last screened a movie in 1963. I parked opposite the building and instantly clocked the fading sign for an antiques dealership. No prizes for guessing what the theatre had been used for after closure! Visitors were directed upstairs to an exhibition space, where plans for the proposed development were posted on the walls. I grabbed a complimentary coffee and read through the information. The Auchterarder Picturehouse opened in 1926 and - other than a modification to the frontage in 1937 - has barely changed since the projectors first rolled. It is a rare survivor of the first wave of purpose-built art deco cinemas and the tin-panelled ceiling is of architectural importance. The renovations seek to retain the original character of the key interior areas: vestibule, foyer, upper tearoom, grand staircase, balcony and main auditorium. Additionally, two adjacent properties will be converted into a second, smaller, film space and arts venue. A restaurant and lounge bar/café are also part of the scheme.
There are other cases across Scotland of old picture houses being brought back to life as community ventures. A fantastic example is the Hippodrome in Bo'ness, West Lothian. We have seen a couple of films there and it's worth going to view the interior alone. It is the oldest dedicated cinema building in Scotland, dating from 1912. After standing empty for three decades, the silver screen returned in 2009. The longest-running historic Scottish cinema is the Cameo in Tollcross, Edinburgh. It has been showing films since 1914 and thankfully survived a 2005 attempt to butcher the inner layout, in favour of a bar/bistro environment. An upgrade to B-listed status ensures this cinematic jewel is now safeguarded from developers whose only concern is the bottom line. I'm old enough to remember my home town Lochgelly having a working cinema and I often saw Saturday matinees as a youngster. Entry a mere fifty pence! My folks took me to see Return of the Jedi one evening and smoking was still permitted. We'll return to the tobacco theme shortly. Many small-town screens were converted into bingo halls or snooker clubs as the advent of affordable home video drove the final nail into the coffin of local cinema. The Auchterarder Picturehouse could seat 500 and sound equipment was installed around 1930 as the talkie revolution began. A change of owner in 1946 saw the name altered to the Regal Cinema and this arrangement continued for the next 17 years. After the closing credits rolled for the final time, the building hosted an antiques business for over half a century, with the auditorium being used a storeroom. When this concern closed in 2019, plans were hatched to return the building to its original function. The one-way tour took me from the old upper tearoom into the balcony area. This was the point where I first glimpsed the auditorium and the bird's-eye view was breathtaking. It was instantly recognisable as a cinema and the only significant missing features were the screen and seats, although a few tip-up chairs survived in the far corner. A guide pointed out the projection windows behind me and explained that the intricate ceiling pattern was originally painted cream but had been stained a deep brown by years of billowing cigarette smoke. Not a problem to worry about these days!
Large art-deco panels graced the walls and I got a closer look at them when I made my way down to floor level via the central staircase. At the front of the room was the sunken orchestra pit, where musicians would have been stationed during the silent film era. I chatted with one of the volunteers and had a look at an artist's impression of how the restored venue would look when full of people. Obviously the refurbishment will have to take account of disabled access and I also noticed a recommendation to create a cycle rack outside. Got to tick the odd green box! I hope the reopening plan comes to fruition. To have such an intact building is a rarity and the project would be an asset to the town. A memorable Doors Open event.
I drove along to Muthill and turned into the Castle Drummond estate at the far end of the village. A long straight tree-lined approach road brought me to the car park and I walked over to the entrance. It was drizzling and a mist had descended. Today there was free access to the gardens and keep. The prospect of climbing to the parapet was an added bonus. The courtyard looks down upon the extensive formal gardens, which have a St Andrew's cross at the centre. Entry normally costs a tenner, therefore I was getting a good deal today. The garden area is built into a steep incline and access is gained by proceeding down several flights of steps. The original keep dates from 1490 and takes the form of a tower house, with additions made in the 1600s and further modifications carried out in the 19th century. The adjacent mansion house is a late 17th-century creation and is still used a family home. It is not open to the public but the keep contains exhibition rooms and the tower offers commanding views. The current garden layout was established in the 1830s and Queen Victoria visited in 1842 with her husband Albert. The complete site is now A-listed. The parterre resembles the Drummond family coat of arms, comprising thistles and daggers. The traversing paths have an elaborate sundial standing in the centre of the cross.
For almost 400 years, the stone obelisk sundial survived wars, civil unrest and the effects of the Scottish weather but by 2016 it was deemed to be in dire need of repair. The stonework was deteriorating and cracks and splits were clearly visible. Making the monument safe was a priority. Carved from sandstone and over three meters tall, the Sundial has 68 facets and 85 pointers. It measures time in many different ways and highlights different points of the year, such as solstices and equinoxes. The structure was dismantled and transported to Edinburgh to be examined by restoration experts. When the conservation work was complete, the sundial was brought home and assembled. Alignment with true north was measured and fixed with markers. Previously the sundial had tracked the axis of the garden, which was marginally off the north line. I escaped the rain by ducking inside the tower house. Spiral stairs led upwards to the exhibition, which included the stump of a 210 year old silver fir blown down in 1893. Finally, I reached the top of the building. The views across the gardens and surrounding countryside were amazing but tempered today by the miserable weather. Can't have it all though. The acquisition of knowledge of our heritage trumps everything else.
Comments