On a glorious day, I set off on a circular route from Dunfermline town centre. The plan was to follow old railway tracks and loop around Townhill Loch before heading back to my starting point. From the bus station, I crossed the retail park and reflected upon how this tarmac expanse was once the site of Dunfermline Upper Railway Station. I would have plenty of local transport history to muse upon today but my first port of call with the camera was Leys Park Care Home. My paternal grandmother saw out her final days here, although by this time she was seriously ill with Alzheimer's and my dad advised me it might be better not to visit and rather remember my gran as she was in better days. I'm comfortable with that decision.
Once the Parish Poorhouse, Leys Park House was built in 1843 and expanded from the original H-Block plan as time went by. Here are a few extracts from the governor's report in 1907. The work provided for inmates is various and embraces almost every trade. In the firewood factory, work can be found for any male inmate. Some splitting wood, some bunching or picking. They may be minus an arm or leg but you can always find something for them to do. I believe where you have plenty of employment, it keeps the inmates contented. During the year, the dining hall has been enlarged and the female sick ward and dormitory above have been extended. An entirely new wash-house and laundry has been built and fitted with all the latest equipment. A new kitchen, scullery and range of stores are now in operation. The language in this summary - not least the use of the term "inmate" - may raise eyebrows today but there are also examples of progress shining through, in terms of the residents welfare. It's a futile exercise to judge the events of a century-plus ago against modern standards. Just as it would have been equally ludicrous to try and square this 1907 document with how things were done in 1800. It should also be borne in mind that what we regard as social security benefits today did not really exist in Edwardian times, certainly not on a national scale. Poverty relief was organised at a local - i.e. parish - level and people would be put to work in return for bed and board. Interesting to note the reference to lost limbs. The poorhouse may have been the only place for the less able-bodied to eke out a living. The ethos running through all these institutions is that keeping people occupied can only be of benefit. The old-style mental asylums had large gardens where patients would be encouraged to work, but away from the banging and clattering of a mill or foundry. The 1881 census lists 151 inmates of Dunfermline Poorhouse, with an age range of 1 to 80. Professions comprise the usual butchers, bakers, miners and blacksmiths with the most intriguing being dancing master. Presumably he dazzled everyone at the annual ball. From the early 20th century onwards, the complex became a joint workhouse and hospital. Curiously, my other gran lived next door not long after she married. Upon the creation of the NHS in 1948, it came under the management of the West Fife Board and was retitled the Northern Hospital, specialising in the care of the long-term and chronically sick. By the late 80s, the private care home facility had been established.
Moving on, I passed behind East End Park, home of Dunfermline Athletic Football Club. I watched The Pars avidly as a schoolboy. Local Lochgelly man Jim Leishman was in charge and took the club from the bottom division to the heady heights of the Premier League. Great memories of big crowds and victories over Rangers and Celtic. It's long been said there are two certainties in life - death and taxes. Legendary Liverpool boss added a shrewd third - football managers get the sack. So it was that Dunfermline parted company with Big Leish even though the club was riding high at the time. Fans were stunned at the news and a protest march through the town demanded his reinstatement. Emotions were running high but the board of directors were never going to lose face by reversing their decision. I stopped going to the games and things took an unexpected turn when my dad was appointed a director of Cowdenbeath FC and I began to follow the Blue Brazil - which I still do today. Leishman went on to enjoy further managerial success at Livingston and also made a name for himself as a poet, provost and after-dinner speaker. He did return to East End Park years later, ironically as general manager. He capped all these achievements by receiving an OBE. If you want a living embodiment of the the phrase "can't keep a good man down" - look no further.
The Dunfermline to Stirling railway ran right behind the football stadium and is now a cycle path as far as Clackmannan. Crazily, there isn't even a direct bus link between Dunfermline and Stirling these days. Two major towns (now officially cities), around 20 miles apart. How's that for public transport planning! Annoyingly, the walking & cycling route has a missing piece in the middle of town where the trackbed is heavily overgrown. The Land Registry says SusTrans has purchased this section for the princely sum of £1 but there must be access issues holding up any further development. No doubt it has something to do with the closed viaduct at Buffies Brae (although a certain intrepid urban explorer has been up there!) and the missing bridge over the crossroads at William Street. In fact, I'll pen an email to SusTrans tonight, regarding this very matter. Dunfermline Upper Station closed in 1968, although a freight connection to Alloa/Stirling remained in situ until 1979. Thereafter the line was singled and pared back to Oakley where an offshoot served Comrie Colliery. When the pit shut down in the wake of the 84-85 miners strike, the railway was deemed to be surplus to requirements and was lifted by the end of the decade. The old station was demolished to make way for today's retail facility.
Someone had nailed signs for Dunfermline Upper and Lower on to a convenient tree trunk. The Lower station is now known as Dunfermline Town. Trains did run from (or via) the Upper to Edinburgh and a triangular junction spanned Halbeath Road to link up the two rail routes through the town. I was walking the mile-long stretch towards the present Queen Margaret Station, situated where the Upper and Lower lines once diverged. New housing has been built on either side of this path and the strip of former railway land is now well used by locals. The residential schemes pretty much ensure that the line will never re-open. Can you imagine the list of objections should such a scheme ever be floated? As the tarmac ran out, I turned uphill past the modern Queen Margaret Hospital before joining the trackbed of an old mineral route that carried coal from the Townhill area down to a junction with the main line. This took me up a sharp gradient towards Townhill Loch (also known as the Town Loch) and I took some colourful photos of wild flowers and got good birdie shots of a bluetit and goldfinch. The loch is now used as a water-ski centre and is also popular with anglers. A café overlooks the water and I used to go there occasionally for lunch with work colleagues. The high railway embankment allowed me to look over the loch and I continued my circuit on another old mineral line, now signed as a bridle path. A whole network of tracks existed in this area. Lines extended to Kelty and up towards Knockhill. I had even spotted rails rusting away in the undergrowth while walking this path years ago. For whatever reason, the spur serving the old Townhill Power Station was never physically removed. The tracks are still easy to spot as you pass the giant transformers that occupy the site nowadays. The very audible hum will alert you. I emerged in Wellwood village and followed the main road back to the centre of Dunfermline, passing my old workplace of Queen Anne High School. Another slice of local history learned with exploration on foot being the main driver.
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