Following my enjoyable exploration of the old railway between Paisley and Johnstone, I decided another trip to Renfrewshire was in order and this time I opted to start in Greenock and Port Glasgow (the two towns basically run into each other). A junction at Johnstone split the railway into sections for Kilbirnie and Greenock. Today I would be exploring the latter of these connections. You may be wondering why I had decided to skip to the other end of the line instead of continuing my expedition from Johnstone. A couple of reasons: I had unfinished urbex business in Greenock and I also wanted to check out the abandoned tenements streets in Port Glasgow I'd seen featured on several Facebook groups. Both these activities would be perfectly suited to the glorious weather forecast and I was at the bus stop at the end of my street early on a Sunday morning, raring to go.
But the bus didn't come. After waiting almost an hour and considering my options, I headed back home and jumped in the car. Taking the next bus didn't really suit the train times from Glasgow Central and a knock-on delay would have occurred. Instead, I hit the motorway and arrived in Port Glasgow at roughly same time I'd originally calculated. I knew the approximate location of the empty estate and soon spotted the eerie signs of unoccupied dwellings. I parked close by and and wandered in. It soon became apparent I had the whole place to myself. The area isn't a complete ghost town. Literally a couple of cars were parked kerbside and I'd read in a newspaper article that a handful of tenants were grimly hanging on. Plus the adjoining streets were populated as normal. But it was damn near as you could get to a deserted urban quarter and even the simple act of strolling around without the usual impediment of vehicles proved unsettling. Many windows were broken, or frames were missing entirely. Entrance doors were shuttered in steel, some of these defences had been kicked down. Peering through openings at ground level revealed the usual chaotic mess of vandalism and decay. I should imaging local youths use the place as a hangout and perhaps some of the down & out fraternity gather here. This was another reason why I scheduled this explore for a Sunday morning. Not the sort of activity I'd carry out as dusk was falling. I have visited many individual derelict buildings but this was the first time I'd toured an actual community with the infrastructure largely intact, as opposed to scattered crumbling remains of villages deserted for a century or more. It truly was a fascinating experience and the presence of a ruined church and primary school added the township feel. This wasn't just houses, but a vanished city/town district. A perfect start to the day. That said, I wouldn't go back as the atmosphere could never be replicated to the same extent. I'll cherish the memory instead.
Why did such a prime central location end up like this, while the wider town itself remains full of life? Some reading was required. The streets once thronged with the families of dock workers and the school was erected in 1887, followed by the gothic-style church 15 years later. The present situation seems to have arisen from a long-running dispute between the landlords and the local authority (Inverclyde Council), whose website states there are 430 individual flats in the scheme, none of which are privately owned. The occupancy rate across the estate is less than 10% and many of the 45 tenement blocks are completely empty. A regeneration plan for the Clune Park area was approved by Inverclyde Council in May 2011. The publicly stated aim of that plan was the demolition of all properties within the estate to allow regeneration to commence. Reading between the lines, my guess is the landlords are happy to accept a trickle of rent coming in from the few remaining residents while holding out for a better offer from the council. Most likely, the owners have long ceased providing beyond the most basic property maintenance. Meanwhile the authority is left with a decaying eyesore and public pressure to do something about it will be mounting. I wonder how this game will pan out? From a social perspective, it is sad when housing becomes tied up in a situation like this while many families struggle to find anything resembling a decent home. Those still toughing it out in their flats can't possibly feel safe around here. Fire raising will be a particular worry. It was time to move on and the nearby Newark Castle was on my itinerary for the day. I had noticed something else while cruising around in search of the Clune Park scheme. A couple of tall metallic statues of hammer wielding men. Certainly something to do with the area's shipping past. Might as well stop for a closer look.
Having the car to whisk me around meant I was saving a lot of time and it seemed likely I could expand my railway walking expectations which - until now - hadn't stretched beyond the outskirts of Port Glasgow. The sculptures - although standing tall - were clearly still undergoing installation and a fence surrounded the project. Assorted machinery and vehicles were present but I was able to poke my phone through the bars to obtain a nice photo of the steel men gleaming in the sun. They appear to be swinging caulking mallets or sledgehammers and it's worth remembering that Port Glasgow's name stems from the days when the Clyde estuary wasn't navigable to large boats beyond this point. The situation changed in the mid-19th century when the river was dredged to allow ships to sail right up to the city centre. But for many years prior to this development, Port Glasgow functioned exactly as stated on the tin. Following the deepening and widening of the Clyde further inland, Port Glasgow became a centre of shipbuilding, now that vessels were no longer unloading cargo here. This industry fell into decline in the post-war decades and only one yard remains. A handful of people were looking at the artwork and taking pictures. I overheard one man describe them as the Skelpies and immediately assumed this was a humorous local adaptation of the iconic Kelpies over in Falkirk. As it turned out, the project has actually been given this title and is already marked on Google Maps! The towering installation stands 10 metres tall and has a combined weight of 14 tons. The estimated cost is half a million pounds and the long-term ambition is to utilise the waterfront for public access and create walking routes and activity areas. Sounds like a good plan to me! A little further upstream next to the shipbuilding yard stood Newark Castle. It was difficult to take a photo that didn't have engineering contraptions in the background but an outlying building was framed by blue sea and sky. The shipyards on the eastern side of the castle were dismantled in the 1980s and great views are now available across the Firth of Clyde if you take a walk in this direction. Dating from 1478, the original tower house was built within a walled enclosure. The corner tower (pictured below) - later converted to a dovecot - is all that now remains of these outer defences. It is reckoned there would have been ancillary buildings such as a bakehouse and brewery within the walls.
The castle was expanded in the late 1500s. An east wing with the main entrance door close to the main block links it to the original tower house which was suitably modified, and a short west wing connects to the gatehouse. The baronial mansion has attractive features including crow stepped gables and north corners embellished with turrets. At the centre of the north wall, a stairwell supported on corbelling gives access to the upper floor. The elegant building is virtually intact today and has reclaimed its prominent position on the shore since the decline of the surrounding industry. Now in the care of Historic Environment Scotland, the public can visit on a seasonal basis. It does look like an interesting place to explore and I'm sure I'll return for a leisurely tour at some point in the future. Today, however, the castle was closed and in any case it was time to move on. Some abandoned railway tunnels to seek out.
Today's main line from Glasgow to Greenock forks just beyond Port Glasgow station with the right-hand branch running via Greenock Central to the coastal terminus at Gourock. The other line skirts the edges of Greenock along a ridge of land, serving a couple of suburban stations before heading out to Wemyss Bay, where the ferry connection to Bute awaits. There was however a third route coming in from Johnstone via Bridge of Weir, the very one I am in the process of exploring. It led eventually to a splendid terminal station at Princes Pier, where passengers could board Clyde steamers. Local services to Bridge of Weir and Kilmacolm were withdrawn in 1983 but onward options to Greenock Lynedoch had ceased in the late 50s. There would have been little demand for such an extension given the availability of the other main routes from Glasgow. The non-stop boat trains continued to use the line all the way to Princes Pier until the mid 60s but the tracks were subsequently cut back to Kilmacolm. A partial reinstatement occurred in 1971 when a container port was established and freight trains used the route beyond Greenock Lynedoch, joining via an existing freight line from the docks. This section contained several tunnels and a single track was laid along the centre of the bore to allow the bulky freight to squeeze through. The arrangement didn't last as increasing container sizes rendered the freight line inoperable by 1991. The rusting tracks are still in situ throughout the town, beyond the limits of the official walking path and a couple of the tunnels are readily accessible to intrepid walkers.
The Greenock railway tunnels are a great urban explore and I did this the year before the pandemic - which makes it seem like a different age. You navigate deep stone-lined cuttings and the presence of actual tracks enhances the feeling of abandoned industry and engineering. The undoubted highlight is the 420-yard Trafalgar Street tunnel which runs on an S-shaped curve. Unfortunately the final tunnel leading down to Princes Pier is barred by a steel fence. The lack of easy access is a pity because this tunnel is a monster 700 yards on a tight curve and must therefore be pretty dark in the middle. It actually crosses the bore of the live line to Gourock and local legend insists you can feel the rumblings of nearby trains through the earth if you stand in the right place. Nevertheless, a good mile of decaying track can be walked and it was certainly one of my all-time favourite explores. I had gained access near the site of Lynedoch Station through a gap in the fence beside an embankment and I walked the downhill gradient towards the pier. Progress in the other direction wasn't possible as a viaduct was barred by a high steel fence. This didn't perturb me at the time as there was plenty to see elsewhere. I already knew from studying the OS map that two tunnels lay a little further to the west beyond the viaduct, hemmed in by residential streets. I resolved to try and find them if I ever found myself back in Greenock. Well, here I was, with time on my hands and a nice day for it. I cruised around in search of potential access points and pulled into a car-park for a tower block. I could see the railway boundary fence across a patch of rough ground and made my way across. A high metal gate was padlocked and seemingly used as a vehicular entry point to the cutting below where tracks ran among the vegetation. I was obviously looking at the correct line but there didn't appear to be an easy way in. Attempting to squeeze below the gate was one possibility but I feared I was 20 years too late for this option. It did look as though others had tried this as some of the earth had been scraped away. Instead I walked down the the nearby rail bridge over the road but the spiked security fencing had all the angles covered. The abutment on the other side offered a solution. I could see few feet of unguarded stone wall between the bridge and the garden of the neighbouring property. The embankment didn't look difficult to scale and there were handy footholds in the form of sawn-off tree-stumps, plus pieces of metal sticking out the bridge stonework. Something to grab makes all the difference when negotiating a steep muddy slope. Anything that can take a fraction of your body weight makes it so much easier to prevent your feet slipping. I may be getting rather old for this sort of thing but I reckoned I could be up there in no time.
I swung my leg over the wall and sat atop while checking for a safe place to drop down on the other side. Just as importantly, was there a suitable way of repeating the process on the return trip? Affirmative on both counts. I was in. I pushed my way through some minor overgrowth. A dog barked behind a fence somewhere in an adjoining garden but otherwise I proceeded into the wide cutting unchallenged. This, I thought to myself, is exactly why I seek out these places. I had a large derelict place to myself in the sunshine and its isolated location and status of being reclaimed by nature offered the possibly of wildlife making an appearance as I poked around and soaked up the industrial heritage. I picked a route along the sleepers and passed by an impressively high retaining wall on my way towards the twin tunnel portals. The dock branch emerged from the left while the other tunnel once carried the passenger connection from Johnstone. After this point, they merged into one railway bound for Princes Pier. It was the freight line that was repurposed as a shipping container artery and this tunnel looked the fresher of the two. Tracks continued inside but I was unable to enter due to the presence of a heavy-duty (and locked) steel gate. There was however ample room to feed my wrist between the spars and take a nice backlit photo of the interior. I could see light spilling in at the far end and the brickwork and floor of the tunnel was mainly dry. To my right, the old passenger route emerged at a slightly higher elevation and the trackbed ran down to where the junction must have been. This tunnel was clearly the more neglected of the two, as you would expect. It was also barred. I wasn't too disappointed at not gaining access. I had already been inside other tunnels on the same route and - in any case - the buzz I received from discovering a truly abandoned location tucked away inside an urban setting massively outweighed any satisfaction I could have gained from stepping through a portal. Both tunnels pass below residential streets and you wonder how many of those living above know that trains once burrowed beneath their homes. I would assume an annual safety inspection is made, hence the access gate further down the line. Otherwise this was a top example of a forgotten railway.
Things now took on a more sedate turn as I drove along to the starting point of the tarmac walking and cycling route to Johnstone via Kilmacolm and Bridge of Weir. My original intention had been to wander to the outskirts of Port Glasgow then back along the seafront to catch a train back to the city, then a bus to Fife Having the car freed up more time and I calculated I could walk the six miles to Kilmacolm then jump on a bus back to Greenock. I would comfortably be home for tea. It immediately became apparent that this must have been a scenic route as the line ran along a high ridge of land overlooking the Firth of Clyde. Tree growth has obscured the panorama today but there were a number of great viewpoints to enjoy. I soon had to descend into a gorge where only the rump of a viaduct remained. The path led down to the valley floor before climbing back up the other side. Internet research confirmed the existence of the "Nine Arches" Viaduct that was apparently blown up in 1970. Photographs show a typical all-stone construction and usually they were left to stand, unless they blocked the way of major development, which clearly wasn't the case out here. Now we know why the container trains of the 80s didn't approach from this direction! A couple of other deviations from the original trackbed were required, mainly due to the presence of modern housing schemes. But once I was free of the Greenock/Port Glasgow sprawl, the surroundings became decidedly bucolic and the route weaved a path between green fields. I was sloping gently downwards towards Kilmacolm and emerged into a quiet residential cul-de-sac where the station had once stood. A short stroll brought me to the town centre and I purchased sandwiches from the Co-op and found a bench on the central square. I got my bearings with the bus stops and had a lovely seat in the sun as I waited out the 40 minutes for the return service.
I had a quick look at a couple of old churches and also checked out a monument commemorating the opening of the town water works in 1878. Curiously, the inscription spelled Kilmacolm with an extra "l" in the middle. I wonder what prompted the alteration. Come to think of it, I'm not sure how the locals pronounce Kilmacolm. I'm hazarding a guess that the stress falls on the "Kil" prefix. Must ask in a shop when I return to pick up the next leg of the footpath. I had enjoyed myself immensely today and felt I had packed in a lot of varied activity. Discovering the Skelpies, viewing a historic castle, strolling around an eerie abandoned housing estate, intrepidly tracking down the location of two old tunnels and walking right up to the gaping mouths. Finally a pleasant leg-stretcher along an old railway offering fine nautical vistas, which alone would have been a worthy day out. I jumped on a bus back to Greenock and judged where I should hop off in order to find my car. I alighted right next to Cappielow Park, home of Morton Football Club. I remember travelling through in the early 90s with Cowdenbeath for a Scottish Cup tie. Cowden were cruising 2-0 with a full 90 minutes on the clock yet somehow ended up drawing 2-2. The £20 I'd staked at the generous odds of 11-2 would have kept me in beer for quite a while. We lost the bloody replay too! The road took me by the decrepit bridge that carried the Princes Pier connection. Did I have one last shot left in the tank? A similar assault on the abutment looked possible but I opted instead to squeeze through a narrow gap in the wire fence and bounced up to the top of the embankment. A veritable jungle greeted me and the surface appeared to be a mudbath. The tunnel portal lay along there somewhere but I decided I'd seen enough for the day and besides, I'd never trump the experience of the cavernous cutting at the other end. But I might be drawn back one day.
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