The capital city is built around seven peaks and I picked off a couple on weekday evenings during the late summer and early autumn. It was a useful way of filling in the time between finishing work and attending my monthly German meet-up. A brisk climb followed by a few beers sounded just the ticket. I jumped on the bus in Kirkcaldy and made my way from the middle of Edinburgh towards the ancient extinct volcano Arthur's Seat.
I had done this popular climb a couple of times before, starting at Holyrood Park next to the Scottish Parliament. Arthur's Seat at 823 feet high is the tallest of the city's hills. Standing just east of the centre, the summit provides panoramic views and is recommend to any visitor looking to combine a bout of exercise with the viewing of historical landmarks. Another popular Edinburgh walk is the Queen's Drive which basically loops around the base of Arthur's Seat and the adjoining Salisbury Crags. This route also looks down upon three lochs. Today I opted for a slightly different approach, heading up "The Bridges" and merging with Queen's Drive at a higher level before tackling a sharp ascent known as Piper's Walk. From the bustling Clerk Street, I cut along Rankeillor Street and soon picked up a path atop a ridge that looked across to the Salisbury Crags, now a specialist rock-climbing site for which a permit is required. Meeting Queen's Drive I headed straight over to join Piper's Walk which consisted of uneven stone steps set into the hillside. I rapidly gained height and my pulse increased accordingly. I soon had the camera out to capture the unfolding cityscape. I was taking a direct route to the top and the path is apparently named after a 1778 mutiny by the Seaforth Highlanders protesting against deployment to the East Indies. The regimental piper is said to have paced up and down here. I observed a raven at close quarters and you can't really mistake the bird for the smaller crow at this distance. Eventually the gradient eased and a more forgiving grassy way took me towards the conical stony summit. This still required some scrambling up the rocky outcrop and you can see why some tourists do slip and injure themselves here, especially if they have made the ascent in totally unsuitable footwear. I have personally witnessed someone standing on the peak in flip-flops. Some people suffer a worse fate than a simple stumble, particularly those who stray from the well-defined footpaths. Death by simple accident or misadventure is one thing, but I'd read a report in the local paper this very evening about a girl of 15 who had been abandoned in a state of intoxication on nearby Calton Hill and had lost her life to hypothermia. The press of course made a big thing about the "older male" aspect of the affair but he was just 18, so no big deal there in my book. Neither is the fact they had sought privacy in order to be intimate of any real relevance. The callous nature of the tragedy is that he left her alone when she was unable to make her own way back down. Shocking! Two women were discussing this very case at the top of Arthur's Seat as I approached the concrete trig point. There were a few folk of various nationalities milling around and taking selfies. I nestled between two rocks and pulled out my water bottle when I suddenly noticed a jackdaw right next to me. It sat motionless long enough for me to take a snap with my phone. A real moment of opportunism.
It was time to wander back down and attend the meet-up just a few streets away. Still strictly outdoors for this type of gathering. Ordering was via an app which eventually worked and a large refreshing shandy (oder Radler, auf Deutsch) was plonked upon the table by the waitress. A pleasant evening ensued and I repeated the format the following month, this time making an assault on Corstorphine Hill west of the city centre next to the zoo. It was an up and over job, starting at street level on Queensferry Road and emerging on Corstorphine Road on the other side. A path network spans the ridge-shaped hill, which is also designated as a nature reserve and has extensive tree cover. I quickly gained height and began following signs for Clermiston Tower. On the way, I caught sight of a hillside clearing and walked through the gap in to gain a fine view westwards. The dense woodland means you have to keep your eyes peeled for potential viewpoints while traversing Corstorphine Hill. I did find another gap that revealed a swathe of the city and I suppose the best outlook of all comes from the top of the whinstone tower, which has only limited opening times. The impressive square-plan monument can also be appreciated from ground level and was erected in 1872 to mark the centenary of famous author and Edinburgh man Sir Walter Scott's birth. The tower is now in the care of the City Council, having been gifted to the people in 1932, the centenary of the author's death. The tower has to jostle for position at the summit these days with a transmitter mast but the trees do a good job of shielding the new structure from the old. A 1.2 acre walled garden lies nearby but I didn't really have the time to go and seek it out. It was part of Hillwood House - once the residence of the MacKinnon family who owned the Drambuie whisky liqueur brand - but fell into disuse and became heavily overgrown. The garden has now been restored and is maintained by a charitable organisation known as the Friends of Corstorphine Hill. The intention was to create a microcosm of the vegetation found on the hill and make it accessible as an educational resource, particularly to less-able individuals. Meanwhile, the nine-bedroom Hillwood House recently sold for a reported £4 million - a record Scottish transaction for a private home since the property crash of 2008. It features a cinema, fitness studio and seven acres of grounds. Who knows if the old walled garden is still part of the policies? Perhaps it has been quietly forgotten.
I started to descend the other side of the hill and came close to the zoo boundary fence. I've had a few free days out there in recent years with my work and I enjoy observing the animals and learning new facts about them. Zoos have their fair share of critics but we're now at a stage where many generations of animals have been bred in captivity and there's no way you could safely release them into the wild. Additionally, all the major zoos now actively participate in conservation schemes and provide data to the scientific community. As ever, the entrenched activists select the bits that suit their own agenda and refuse to bend on other matters. This leads to ridiculous situations whereby "animal rights" campaigners trumpet the message that no living being should be put on public display for entertainment purposes. Yet racehorses are bred to compete, circuses do care for their animals. I remember a horse-trainer saying she had invited the PETA representatives to come and inspect her stables any time they liked. But they refuse to engage in any dialogue. That'll move the situation on then! There seems to be a thing in Edinburgh with building golf courses into the sides of hills. Corstorphine is no exception and I reached a viewpoint named "Rest and be Thankful" that overlooked the Ravelston and Murrayfield courses with the city centre prominent in the background. I sat on one of the benches and gazed down the green corridor towards the iconic landmarks of Edinburgh. The scene was referred to by the famous Scottish author Robert Louis Stevenson in his classic novel "Kidnapped" (1886) when David Balfour and Alan Breck Stewart part company - "We came the by-way over the hill from Corstorphine; and when we got near to the place called Rest-and-be-Thankful, and looked down on Corstorphine bogs and over to the city and the castle on the hill, we both stopped, for we both knew without a word said that we had come to where our ways parted"
The two characters are depicted in a statue on Corstorphine Road near the foot of the hill. Stevenson was born, raised and educated in the capital city and became on of Scotland's most loved writers. He later travelled extensively across the world but died at the relatively young age of 44, suddenly collapsing from what may have been a cerebral haemorrhage. The 15-feet tall monument was unveiled in 2004 by another legendary citizen of Edinburgh, Sir Sean Connery who was known simply as Big Tam when he worked at the newspaper offices where my dad spent the bulk of his career. Sir Sean once impressed a taxi driver who was ferrying him to a film premiere at the Edinburgh Festival. After hearing his passenger reel off the names of all the streets they passed, the driver enquired as to where this knowledge had been gained. Oh, I used to be a milkman around here came the reply. Upon being asked what he did for a living these days, Big Tam trotted out the immortal line - well that's a wee bit more complicated.
As I took the path back down to street level on the south side, I realised I was on the John Muir Way. This 130-mile trail runs coast to coast from Helensburgh in Dunbartonshire to Dunbar in East Lothian. The path opened in 2014 and honours the man who founded the United States National Park Service and was largely responsible for the establishment of the renowned Yosemite National Park in California. John Muir (1838-1914) was born in Dunbar but emigrated to America at the age of 11. After graduating from university and a short industrial career, he devoted his entire life to nature. He walked from the Midwest to the Gulf of Mexico, keeping a journal - A Thousand-Mile Walk to the Gulf - published posthumously in 1916. As early as 1876, Muir urged the federal government to adopt a forest conservation policy. He became a central figure in the debate over land use, advocating strongly on behalf of preservation primarily through articles in popular periodicals. Muir believed national parks should be protected in their entirety, rendering their resources off-limits to industrial interests. Sequoia and Yosemite national parks were established in 1890, representing a major victory for environmental protection. Muir's conviction that areas of wilderness should be federally protected as nature reserves has given generations of citizens the opportunity to appreciate a diverse range of American landscapes as they exist naturally. Nicole and I have done a leg of the John Muir Way, from Dunbar to East Linton. It's another long-term project to be chipped away at. I emerged on Corstorphine Road and began walking back towards the city centre. The meet-up venue was almost three miles away. I passed the amazing building that had until recently functioned as Donaldson's School for deaf children. A relocation to Linlithgow led to the Gothic pile being sold for development. Conversion to flats is well underway.
Another post-work Edinburgh wander didn't involve climbing a hill but instead exploring the New Town around Stockbridge and following a short section of the river trail. It was a balmy evening and shirt sleeves were the order of the day. I grabbed a meal deal from Tesco at the West End of Princes Street and walked down to the Dean Bridge. It carries the A90 high above the Water of Leith on four arches. It was one of the final projects by esteemed civil engineer Thomas Telford and was completed in 1831.
The Water of Leith flows right through the centre of Edinburgh before entering the sea at the port bearing its name. Rising in the Pentland Hills, it follows a 22 mile course, just over half of which forms a popular walking route known as the Water of Leith Trail. I did the entire thing twice with a walking group from my previous place of work and have done numerous little stretches over the years. In fact, I'm sure I broke in the first pair of hiking boots I ever bought by following the trail from Haymarket to Leith. Four or five miles seemed like a big expedition back then. Nowadays I think nothing of doing double that in one go, even though I'm two decades older. Central Edinburgh is traditionally divided into the Old and New Towns, with Princes Street & Gardens separating the two historical developments. The peaceful oasis of the gardens was once the site of the Nor Loch, a man-made body of water originally constructed as part of the city's defences. As well as deterring invaders, the loch also inhibited population growth on the north side and what we know as the Old Town expanded along the steep ridge on the north shore. As the city became increasingly overcrowded during the middle ages, the Nor Loch gradually turned into a stinking cesspit as sewage and other detritus sought the lowest point. Drainage operations commenced in 1812 and were completed by 1820. No doubt the newly laid gardens benefitted from the fertile soil enriched by organic waste matter over the centuries. The fragrance of flowers would certainly have been preferable to the miasma of old. Historic Edinburgh had the unusual arrangement whereby different social classes occupied shared urban space and sometimes even the same building! Segregation still existed though, with the wealthier folk residing in the middle storeys and the poor making do with cellar and attic accommodation. From the late 1700s onwards, the professional and business classes began to vacate the Old Town for more desirable accommodation to the north of Princes Street. The thoroughfare was created as part of the New Town project which ran from 1767 to around 1850. The wide roads and spacious Georgian houses tempted many residents to leave the cramped tenements and alleyways behind - provided, of course, you could afford to. Edinburgh's unique social mix was therefore altered forever.
Bell's Brae took me down to the water's edge and I could appreciate the architecture of the bridge from below. I was now standing in Dean Village, a former grain milling settlement that boasted 11 working mills driven by the Water of Leith. All cities swallow up outlying areas as they expand outwards but Dean Village has managed to forge an identity as a quiet oasis sitting just below the hustle and bustle of the throbbing streets above and it is now a highly desirable residential area. The Scottish Gallery of Modern Art is situated on the river, within two stunning early 19th century buildings, one a former refuge for fatherless children and the other an orphan hospital. The grounds are expansive and it must be 20 years since I visited. That would be a nice little day trip to write about. Back to tonight's walk, there are a couple of amazing buildings at the foot of Bell's Brae. You can't miss the Old Tolbooth on the cobbled corner just before the original bridge over the Water of Leith. Painted yellow and reaching a height of four storeys, the A-listed building has the year 1675 inscribed on the lintel and is a rectangular-plan construction with crowstepped gables. It was a granary for the Baxters Incorporation of Edinburgh (the bakers trade guild - one of 15 such associations in the city) and the carved symbol of the crossed paddles is easily seen just above eye level. Next door (also shown in the above photo) is Bell's Brae House. Now a bed & breakfast offering a combination of period charm and modern luxury, the property dates from as far back as 1597 and was for many years a miller's house. It was fully restored in 1948 for the Polish painter Aleksander Zyw and incorporated the adjoining Victorian schoolhouse as an artist’s studio. The project was overseen by notable Scottish architect Sir Basil Spence who was knighted for his rebuilding of Coventry Cathedral which had suffered catastrophic bomb damage during the war. Zyw's artistic output in the 1950s saw him become a valued member of the Edinburgh scene. Guests today can make use of the leafy garden overlooking the Water of Leith and there is also a yoga studio available. The property has a grade-B listing and is thus described in the register - A good survival of a 17th century merchant's house, with complementary later additions by Sir Basil Spence. The later alterations are imaginative and were amongst the first undertaken by the architect in the post-war period. I joined the Water of Leith Trail and wandered downstream towards the New Town district of Stockbridge. The official river footpath begins in Balerno and passes through an old railway tunnel and by famous Edinburgh landmarks such as Murrayfield Stadium, the Slateford Aqueduct and - as previously mentioned - the Gallery of Modern Art. Further on, it skirts the Botanic Gardens and Grange Cricket Ground. I came upon the curious structure of St Bernard's Well which features a statue of the Greek Goddess of Health, Hygieia. She is enclosed within a circle of eight tall stone pillars and the elaborate structure dates from 1789.
A natural spring was apparently discovered on this spot in 1760 and "taking the waters" was said at the time to be an effective remedy for healing various maladies. The well takes its name from Saint Bernard of Clairvaux who - according to local legend - had spent time living in a local cave. Beneath the statue is the pump room where the spring emerges. Ostentatiously designed with mosaics, this chamber has been largely closed to the public since 1940. Today, the well is owned by the Edinburgh City Council and maintained by the Dean Village Association, who organise public viewings on a handful of Sundays during the spring and summer. Another one to look out for in the future, perhaps I could catch it on Doors Open Day. I reached the affluent and vibrant area of Stockbridge and climbed the steps to street level in order to have a look around. Many independent shops - including several antique dealers - are located in the vicinity along with a healthy choice of pubs, cafés and restaurants. I wanted to find the original arched entrance gate to Stockbridge Market and cut through a couple of narrow streets to arrive at the grand stone portal, inscribed with the market's name and a list of produce - butcher meat, fruits, fish & poultry. The Category-B listed structure has an overhanging oil lamp and was once the gateway to a large indoor market hall selling all manner of wares. The market ran from 1831 to 1906 before being closed following complaints from the residents about noise and foul smells. The building behind the arch is long gone and a tree-lined footpath stretches out instead. A modern-day monthly farmers market now takes place a few streets away. Stockbridge had a football team in the Scottish League up until the Second World War. St Bernard's FC (named after the well) played at the Royal Gymnasium Ground which today is a public park bearing no resemblance to a sports stadium. Despite existing in the shadow of the city's two main clubs - Hearts and Hibs - the Stockbridge outfit enjoyed a reasonable level of success and in 1938 reached the semi-final of the Scottish Cup, being edged out 2-1 after two drawn games by fellow Second Division side East Fife, each match attracting over 30,000 spectators. The Fifers went on to win the trophy by defeating Kilmarnock after a replay and thus became the first team outside the top league to lift the trophy, a distinction they held for almost 80 years until Hibs emulated the feat in 2016. It was the Hibees first success in the competition since 1902 and I watched the game from the rear of the main stand with my dad - a lifelong fan. Thousands invaded the turf upon the final whistle to celebrate this momentous result. Lightning was given the opportunity to strike twice when Hibs again reached the final in 2021 but this time they lost to St Johnstone, perhaps proving that - like Halley's Comet - it really is a once in a lifetime experience to see the Edinburgh green & white ribbons on the cup.
As for poor St Bernard's, they finished the 38-39 season in a respectable seventh position but never got going again after the war. Football can be a fickle game but this was a cruel hand to be dealt. A change of sport was in the air for the next part of my walk as I encountered the Grange Cricket Ground, peering through a gap in the boundary wall for a glimpse of the hallowed oval. My previous visit had been in 1998 when I took the train across to Edinburgh to see Scotland play Derbyshire in the annual NatWest Trophy, a one-day cricket knockout competition. The Scots had caused an upset in the first round by defeating Worcestershire. Victories against English county sides were rare in these days. I decided to attend the next match against Derbyshire and vaguely recall sitting in Princes Street Gardens reading a preview in the newspaper before heading down to the Grange. By the time I arrived, the match was in its early stages and I could see the giant scoreboard from the street. Scotland were batting first and had already conceded five wickets and had registered just 26 runs. They were taking a pounding and suddenly the £11 admission fee seemed rather hefty. I turned tail and walked back to the town centre. I probably spent the money on a CD and went to the museum instead. That was my one and only run-in (pun fully intended) with the Scottish cricket side. Nowadays they are very much improved and have competed in several international tournaments. You never know, I might go back to the Grange on match day and actually witness the crack of the willow. I was still tracking the Water of Leith and I read an information board about the Stockbridge Colonies - affordable terraced housing erected in the second half of the 19th century to accommodate skilled tradesmen working in the city centre. The properties also attracted professions such as shop-keepers and clerks. I suppose these were the folk who couldn't afford the fancy homes in the New Town and this was the next best thing. Residents had the option of purchasing shares in the building company. The property boom of the 1980s saw an increase in gentrification although there are still long-term tenants on fixed rents and owner-occupiers who have been there for decades. Sounds like it was a bold scheme for its time and you have to wonder how we have ended up with severe housing problems in the 21st century. Surely a country that generates billions of pounds of wealth every year shouldn't have people struggling to find a place to live. Is that too much to ask? You can say what you like about the communist nations of Eastern Europe but at least they fed and housed their citizens. I diverged from the river and passed through the old Rodney Street rail tunnel to emerge at the site of the Royal Gymnasium Ground. Football ghosts must abound here after nightfall. I had thoroughly enjoyed my New Town exploration and I supped a pint of traditional ale in the Cask & Barrel before walking up Broughton Street to the meet-up venue.
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