A new waymarked walking trail opened in Glasgow last year. Linking up various green spaces in the south of the city, the Magnificent 11 crosses a wide range of terrain and - as it says on the tin - runs for 11 miles. The route is circular and the most convenient place for me to join was at Snuff Mill Bridge, an easy stroll from Cathcart Station.
I stood high above the fast-flowing White Cart Water. It rises on Eaglesham Moor in Renfrewshire and joins the Black Cart Water in Glasgow before pouring into the Clyde. I took in the picturesque scene and a sign informed me I was standing on the White Cart Walkway - another marked trail to investigate in the future. My route for today led away from the water and I walked up a steep residential street after crossing the 18th-century bridge. The original structure was built in 1624 and a stone bearing this date was re-inserted following the upgrade. Cathcart is now a leafy suburb but a range of industries were at one time present along the banks of the White Cart. The mill processed grain and snuff, hence the name of the bridge. It was finally closed to traffic in 1924. I entered the northern fringe of Linn Park and scaled a low grassy hill called Court Knowe. Mary Queen of Scots is said to have watched the Battle of Langside unfold from this vantage point in 1568, following her escape from Lochleven Castle. The conflict involved forces loyal to Mary and those supporting her half brother James Stewart, Earl of Moray, who had been acting as Regent of Scotland since Mary's forced abdication the previous year. Moray scored a decisive victory, ending Mary's attempts to regain the throne. She fled south immediately afterwards, spending her final night in Scotland at Dundrennan Abbey, near Kirkcudbright. A memorial stone stands in the park today but unfortunately the interpretation panels were impossible to read, due to vandalism. The path took me by the foundations of Cathcart Castle. The 15th-century stronghold was abandoned as a dwelling in 1740 and was finally pulled down in 1980, owing to its dangerous condition. Leaving Linn Park (I would return later), I traversed a couple of streets and found my way into King's Park. The 68-acre public space was gifted to the city in 1930 by Sir John Mactaggart, who had made his fortune in the housebuilding trade. The centrepiece of the old estate is the A-listed Aitkenhead House. Built in 1806 on the site of an earlier mansion, it was significantly improved in 1823 by leading sugar and cotton merchant John Gordon, who added wings to the central block. As you may have guessed, a large portion of his wealth was derived from slavery.
Today, the grand country residence contains 14 individual flats, having been converted in the 1980s following a spell of dereliction. Previously the building had served as a costume museum with a popular tearoom. It had also been a hospital during the First World War and a base for intelligence operations in the second global conflict. King's Park contains an elaborate tall sundial (B-listed) dating from 1885. Originally located at Douglas Castle, Lanarkshire (demolished in 1938), the six sections of the obelisk were transported to Glasgow in 1930 and installed next to the King's Park walled garden. This large enclosure was constructed in the early 19th century and would have provided kitchen produce for the estate. In recent years, Friends of King's Park have adopted the garden from Glasgow City Council with the aim of re-instating the interior to it’s former glory. A range of fruit trees have already been planted. Within the wider parkland, the arboreal inventory includes native species such as oak, lime, sycamore, horse chestnut and yew, along with more exotic specimens such as cypress, purple beech, red chestnut and monkey puzzle - fashionable choices in days gone by. I navigated my way to the exit at the bottom of the park and continued along a rising zig-zag path through what appeared to be recently-created community woodland. The trees were merely saplings. Two stretches of street walking were punctuated by a pleasant wander alongside a burn. I then arrived at Cathkin Braes Country Park. The trail now gained significant height as I reached the highest point (around 650 feet) within the municipal boundaries of Glasgow. An escarpment provides great views across the urban sprawl towards the Campsie Fells on the horizon. On a clear day, many familiar mountain peaks can be seen. Queen Mary's seat is a large cairn marking the spot where a Scottish monarch is reputed to have observed her troops contest a major conflict (does that tale sound familiar?). The natural environment of the park is a mixture of ancient woodland, grassland, heath and scrub. The feel is far more rural than other green spaces within Glasgow. Hardly surprising, as Cathkin Braes sits right on the edge of the conurbation, with farmland and golf courses beyond.
I enjoyed the panorama of our largest city and proceeded along the ridge. The path dipped down and I found myself on a network of mountain bike routes paralleling the edge of the woods. The trail had been well signed so far but the series of yellow markers suddenly dried up. I realised I must have taken a wrong turn, easily done in an area where myriad footpaths intersect. Rather than retrace my steps, I performed a spot of mental dead reckoning, weaved my way through the trees and quickly hooked up again with the official trail. Once clear of the woodland, navigation became easier and I walked across open countryside, between fields and on part of a tarred cycleway before eventually meeting the busy Carmunnock Bypass. The route descriptor on Walkhighlands said I should be standing opposite the Carnbooth House Hotel gates. Except there was no grand entrance, merely a row of large boulders blocking vehicular access. My urbex radar began to twitch intently when I saw the piles of fly-tipped rubbish on the driveway. This was no functioning business, but an abandoned location. I followed the access road round a bend to be confronted with the hulk of a decaying building. The hotel had obviously been gutted by fire and an online check revealed the blaze had occurred just two months previously. Ten fire engines battled the inferno but the interior was completely destroyed. The building had been vacant since 2019 and everything points towards arson. Planning permission had been obtained for a residential development but that won't be happening now. There was no security fencing and I was able to walk all the way round. Access was unencumbered but would have involved clambering over charred timbers and fallen masonry. Not my idea of fun, and also dangerous. Nobody else was present and I sensed the familiar eerie atmosphere that envelopes abandoned places that were once full of life. An unexpected find and one that really made my day.
Carnbooth House was designed by Alexander Cullen around 1900. In the post-war years, the B-listed country mansion - surrounded by eight acres of woodland - became a children's home and by the mid-80s was a residential school for deaf and blind pupils. When Glasgow Council opened a purpose-built special needs educational facility in 2008, Carnbooth became a hotel with a reputation for hosting weddings in a marquee to the rear. Plans were drawn up to create a new function hall and incorporate housing into the grounds. Now we have another grand mansion crumbling away and most likely stuck in limbo. The rebuild costs will be huge and demolition of listed properties is only permitted in extreme circumstances. The trail didn't go through the Carnbooth grounds so I backtracked and continued across an agricultural landscape. I had to skirt a couple of fields but stiles had been provided and I eventually descended to meet the White Cart Water again. I walked downstream through woodland until I emerged at a cemetery, where I had lunch on a wooden bench. I had begun my circuit at the northern tip of the vast Linn Park and now I arrived at the southern end. I passed through a pleasant meadow and worked my way back to the river where I crossed the Halfpenny Bridge - an elegant single-span cast-iron structure that recently reached its 200th birthday. Linn Park was established by the Glasgow Corporation in 1919. Cathcart Castle and its grounds were added to the public space a decade later. The park contains an 1820 mansion - Linn House - that was extended in the 1850s by John Gordon (the slave trader's son) and converted to four private homes in 2007. Under public control, the grand dwelling had hosted a nature centre but later fell into dereliction. By now my legs were weary and I decided to stick firmly to the trail, rather than go looking for the mansion. Linn Park is home to 60 species of birds and the river walkway took me past an attractive waterfall.
Exiting the park and following the White Cart, my next port of call was Holmwood House. Designed for local paper magnate James Couper in 1858, who ran the Millholm operation near the bridge where I had begun my walk, the A-listed property is regarded as the finest domestic creation of architect Alexander "Greek" Thomson (and the best surviving example of all his works). He was a leading light in his profession and a pioneer of sustainable building. Thomson’s penchant for Grecian styling and symmetry is found throughout Holmwood, where the bold opulent decoration echoes the colours seen in ancient temples. After passing through a succession of owner occupiers, Holmwood's use changed when it was purchased by a religious order known as The Sisters of Our Lady of the Mission, who ran a nearby primary school. The nuns were accommodated in the mansion until the school closed in 1992 and Holmwood entered a period of uncertainty. There was talk of a developer moving in. Fortunately Glasgow Council had the foresight to block these proposals and the National Trust bought the house and grounds, opening them to the public in 1998. I viewed the attractive property from the front lawn and completed the final part of the circuit to finish up at Cathcart Station. An excellent trail that takes you through parts of Glasgow well beyond the city centre.
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