I always seem to build up to-do, to-read, to-see, to-visit etc lists. In terms of local walking and exploration, I had a few things sitting in the pipeline and knocked them off last Sunday when Nicole had plans to spend a day painting. I had previously posted pictures of Avondale House (near Polmont) on a Scottish Urbex Facebook page. Someone asked if I'd ever visited the abandoned sewage works a couple of fields away. I duly filed away this project for a future date. Online research confirmed the site was indeed derelict although a new business now occupied part of the area.
I toyed with the idea of going back to Avondale House and working my way across but that might be horrendously muddy and overgrown. Better to try my luck at the main entrance. A minor road led past the complex and fortunately I managed to squeeze into a little lay-by. An access track took me towards the gates and I could see the fencing was breached in places. The compound was completely deserted and I headed down to the settling pools which may well have contained deep water. I kept a sensible distance from the edge. Although I love poking around abandoned locations, I don't take any silly risks as I want to tell the tale and find other interesting sights. There was a heavily vandalised concrete building which looked as if it had been used for industrial purposes as well as containing offices. A couple of doors had been kicked in but led only to single rooms, one of which contained the fuse boxes. I probably could have found a way in to explore further but the place was in poor condition and I'm often content to just view the exterior and take photos. I enjoy the isolated ambience more than clambering over piles of rubble. A new building was situated in the far corner - presumably with access to the road. I'm assuming this was the start-up business I had read about online. There didn't appear to be any signs of life.
Another urbex box ticked, I then set off for Bothkennar Pools on the edge of Grangemouth. These lagoons lie close to the Forth estuary and were formed as a result of mining subsidence and are gradually increasing in size. Nicole and I had previously visited one of the ponds and today I planned to complete the circular walk of just under two miles. The first part was on a single-track tarmac surface and I then cut through a patch of woodland to reach the first pool. A curlew plonked itself down just as I arrived and I managed to snap a fine shot at maximum zoom. Quite happy with that. Not much else was happening here and I pushed on to the second pond. There is a small viewing screen overlooking the water and a man had set up his tripod and camera. Upon enquiring about today's action, he informed me he was a beginner and didn't know much about birds. I'm no expert myself! I glean bits and pieces from Nicole, who does all the serious reading and research. My main bird buzz is the taking of photographs although I do also enjoy the observation aspect. I identified a couple of tufted ducks for the chap and was happy to pass on some of my meagre knowledge. I decided retrace my steps to the car as I knew from the previous walk that the more direct route would be very muddy. I just needed enough trail information to compile a report for the website.
The next destination was Plean which lies roughly halfway between Stirling and Falkirk. A former mining village, Plean is on the southern portion of the A9. One day I must drive this road in its entirety, a marathon trek from Falkirk to Thurso. The crazy thing is I would actually do it just for the personal satisfaction - and why not! It would of course necessitate locating the road's exacting starting point. Plean Country Park was formerly a private estate and I wanted to see the ruined old mansion and whatever else the place had to offer. The car park was fairly busy. A decent weekend after a spate of bad weather always seems to bring out lots of people. I found the house easily enough. Only a crumbling shell remains as the building was torched by vandals in the early 70s, around the time it was vacated. A security fence prevents access and rightly so as the property is in dangerous condition. I had known in advance there would be little chance of getting a closer look but in all honesty there would most likely be nothing to see save fallen masonry among the vegetation. Nevertheless it was interesting to view yet another of those once-grand mansions now barely standing. I found a handy hump of ground to the rear of the house which allowed to me to take a picture of the building staring gloomily through the trees and the thin branches did an excellent job of camouflaging the ugly fence. A few waymarked walks were shown on the estate map and I decided to do part of the woodland trail as it passed by a couple of landmarks that sounded interesting.
The gamekeepers cottage was reduced to little more than the foundations and worth just a cursory glance before moving on. I had been intrigued to read about the existence of WW1 practice trenches within the estate and a side path took me to this location. An information board depicted the trench layout but they were only just discernible as depressions on the ground. Nevertheless, a fascinating discovery and apparently some of the best evidence of this type of earthwork still in existence. I would definitely consider returning to the park in the summer months to see the wild meadow in full bloom and perhaps explore the other trails. As I left I couldn't help noticing a deep cutting next to the road as I drove back to the village centre. I strongly suspected the presence of an old railway line and almost jumped out of the car for a more detailed look. Back home, the OS map confirmed that a mineral line had run from the pits surrounding the estate down to a junction at the long-gone Plean Station. I love looking at the 1950s OS mapping online (the most recent edition freely available, apparently the copyright lasts 50 years). This series was published just before many railways were ripped up around the country and the overlay tool allows you to view the trackbed against a satellite image of today's terrain.
It was was an enjoyable little exploration of east Stirlingshire, covering several bases in one afternoon. I arrived home as the sun was setting and Nicole called me upstairs to have a look out of the window. This pictured scene looks across the fields to the rear of our house. I love the way the farmhouse and trees appear as spooky shadows across the red backdrop. Sunset photos seem to be all the rage on Instagram and this one attracted a flurry of early likes but fell short of the 200 mark (although it may creep over that threshold in time). I'm on a fantastic Insta-run with a whole host of consecutive posts topping the ton and nearly all of them passing 150 likes. A dozen or so above 200 and a couple that have smashed the 300 barrier. All good clean fun and nice to know that people around the world are appreciating your camera work. If someone starts following me, I'll glance at their portfolio, reciprocating if the pictures are broadly similar to mine or otherwise appealing. I tend to avoid those who create endless selfies or insist on their dog taking centre stage in most shots (cats I don't mind so much lol). I also refuse to follow anyone who has a private account (although they can by all means subscribe to me). I mean, it's social media, man! Get it out there!
We had actually been out the previous morning to see the sun rise on the Firth of Forth. Nicole has joined a wild swimming group and they were going for a dip on a cold January morning. I'll maybe join in when spring merges into summer and I can come out of the water for a heat. I see no pleasure in dooking on a day when even the boldest of brass monkeys would fear for his testicles. The meeting point was Silver Sands beach and around 20 swimmers gathered for their period of morning invigoration. Nicole decided not to enter but her two friends bit the bullet. Apparently salt water doesn't drop below 7 degrees, even in winter. Lochs can be colder (and unpredictably deep). Some people were kitted out in wet suits while others went in bareback. If that's your bag, then good luck to you. I was far more interested in capturing a sunrise photo and spent the time pointing my camera at the horizon. In a nice touch, the moon had also been clearly visible in a blue-tinged sky prior to sunrise and I got two lovely photographs for the price of one. Afterwards we headed to the café and bakery at Woodlea Stables, Crossgates. We were joined by Gareth and Shauna for coffee and a snack. Some funny conversation ensued and it was a pleasant way to spend an hour.
Gareth is a fellow rocker and we discussed the brilliance of Neil Peart, the Rush drummer who had sadly passed away. Gareth also loves real ale and was delighted when I pointed out the Limekilns Brew Shed stall - due to open at 10am just yards from where we were sitting. It operates at Woodlea Stables every Saturday and Sunday for a few hours and this was the first occasion I'd managed to catch it in action. I purchased a couple of bottles of an ale known simply as Ordinary. A homage to the once-popular style referred to as 60-shilling, light, mild or indeed ordinary. This was a weaker ale - typically just over 3% - that was traditionally supped by workers after a long shift. A few pints could be enjoyed without the legs becoming too wobbly. It was in the process of falling out of favour when I started going to pubs in the late 80s. The dreaded epithet "old man's pint" sealing its fate. You can still find a pint of ordinary in keg form here and there. As far as real ale goes, there is such a plethora of styles nowadays that the old concepts of bitter and mild, light and heavy, 60, 70 & 80 are no longer so rigidly defined. I enjoyed my bottles later that evening and mused upon the fact that I was edging towards senior drinker territory myself.
After parting ways with Shauna & Gareth, we headed along the coast to Leven. Once part of a busy shipping area, the town has somewhat fallen upon hard times but retains a decent selection of shops on the High Street (my sister owns one of them) and the government recently green-lit the proposal to reopen the railway towards Edinburgh. Trains used to run all the way round the coast of Fife but the Beeching Axe of the 1960s cleaved out the picturesque East Neuk section. In this day of re-energised railways, surely a line passing through the beautiful fishing villages would do great business - at least in the summer (which was probably part of the problem in the first place). Then again, with more people commuting nowadays and this part of the Kingdom bereft of a fast road network, a coastal route would - in my opinion - be viable. Beeching did leave stumps serving the population centres of Leven and St Andrews but they too were swept away a few years later (although goods traffic continued to Leven until 2001). It is the former of those that is slated to re-open while StArLink campaigns indefatigably for the revival of the few miles of track that connected the Home of Golf to the East Coast Main line at Leuchers. When you consider St Andrews is also an ancient university town and an international tourist draw, it's screaming out for a return of the railway. Perhaps the politicians will one day bow to climate change pressure.
We came to Leven for the birds and they happily obliged. From the above picture you can see the intricate details of the markings on a starling and the sheen on the breast. A great example of a common bird, erm, flying under the radar and not having its beauty truly recognised. Except they're not really that common these days. Starling numbers have drastically declined over the last couple of decades and even the experts aren't sure why. Down on the beach I saw a godwit splashing about in the sea. It seemed to be enjoying itself and I was able to get reasonably close for a photo. I love watching the sanderlings scuttle around on the shoreline but they are difficult to capture on camera as they never seem to stand still for more than a few seconds. By the time you've zoomed in and focussed....they're off! Turnstone and plover are commonly sighted at Leven and there were plenty of the latter sitting on the sand. Again, I was able to sneak forward without disturbing them and take some nice group shots. My day's work went down well on Instagram with each bird pic topping 200 likes. Sometimes it can be a slow climb though, like a classic rock band's back catalogue trickling through sales year upon year. Hopefully the return of the railway to Leven will bring in visitors from across the water. An East Neuk shuttle bus would also be a handy tie-in.
Re-opened railways tend to vastly exceed the initial forecasts of usage. The Borders line is a good example. In this case the authorities shot themselves in the foot by building a single-track route with key bridges over major roads not sufficiently wide to accommodate a second set of tracks, thereby severely restricting the number of potential train paths. It's crazy that we actually have several mothballed freight lines around the country already running to sizeable towns where the passenger service was lost decades ago. I know it isn't necessarily cheap to bring them back to life but we have to start somewhere and the road network is becoming increasingly congested. I would love to go on a train trip to Leven one day. The only thing missing is a decent alehouse but you've got an award winning pub a couple of miles along the coast in Lower Largo - ironically named the Railway Tavern.
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