It's amazing how easily you get used to sitting around at home if that lifestyle is enforced upon you. That said, I'm a person who always finds something to do around the house. This rarely involves DIY or gardening. It's far more likely to be an immersion in old maps, genealogy data or simply catching up with my reading pile or my permanent backlog of films, radio broadcasts and TV shows. However, with lockdown travel restrictions now lifted, the itch to get out exploring began to niggle away at me. It was time to visit some abandoned locations and I put together a circular tour of Perthshire involving four properties. I planned to set off early and my direction of travel was dictated by my wish to visit the Scottish Real Ale Shop on the homeward leg.
My first port of call was the Newmiln Estate just off the A93 near Old Scone. The carriage drive led down to a stone gateway and I parked on the verge before sticking my head through the arch. I always enter the grounds on foot in order to be as unobtrusive as possible, something which may well have saved my bacon in this case. As soon as I passed through the opening, I could see that the big house had been abandoned. I had added this location to my itinerary the evening before and had only done some basic research. It apparently belonged to a Qatari prince who had lost interest in the place and it was an example of a neglected property still in relatively good nick. I did more research when I returned home and discovered the building had been run as a luxury hideaway hotel in the 1990s and had housed Hollywood actor Liam Neeson when he was filming Rob Roy. Other well-known celebrities were known to have stayed at this secluded Perthshire bolt-hole with its substantial grounds offering fishing and shooting activities. Apparently a three-day break cost £2500! The house had been a private home prior to the hotel makeover and the married couple - James & Elaine McFarlane - running the business did a deal with the Arabian prince at the turn of the century whereby he took ownership and leased it back. It can only be assumed the hotel ran into financial difficulties as Prince Abdul Aziz al-Thani, the brother of the Emir of Qatar, petitioned for eviction in 2005. The McFarlanes counter claimed the rental payments were sitting untouched in a holding account and the prince had fallen out with the pair because they had refused to accommodate his mother during a busy period. After a protracted battle, the McFarlanes were forced to leave and there are also newspaper reports of James being embroiled in a love triangle around this time, ramming his rival's car and being convicted of possessing illegal bullets following a raid on Newmiln House. Elaine was apparently selling burgers from the roadside for a while and a local private school reached an out of court settlement regarding unpaid fees. Quite a stramash then!
As I got closer, I noticed the pedestrian gate giving access to the front lawn was tied shut and I continued following the access road. I spotted a faint path through the bushes and this brought me to the house entrance. Indeed a grand place! The lower windows were boarded and the front door looked solidly bolted. I wandered around the property, noting the broken window panes upstairs and also the smashed stone balustrades on some of the balconies. Youths breaking glass is one thing but some of the other damage must have required considerable concerted force. Again the question - why? I looked down upon the abandoned tennis courts, now fighting a losing battle against weeds. At the rear of the house were a couple of outbuildings and a vandalised static caravan. My eye was drawn to a gaping hole in what I presumed to be the entrance to the kitchen, jutting out from the main wall. A portion of the plywood board had been torn away. This might be my way in! I crawled through and found myself - as predicted - inside the cooking quarters. The room had been ransacked although the actual kitchen units were largely intact. Paperwork was strewn across a worktop and I noticed a lease document just lying there and I slipped it into my pocket for later perusal. I know they say take nothing, but I make an exception for paper items.
From the kitchen, I passed into a lobby where a flight of stairs led upwards. I climbed up to find a couple of bathrooms which had suffered vandalism. The adjacent bedrooms were bare and largely untouched - save for cosmetic damage such as the odd broken window, a few pieces of graffiti and assorted detritus lying around. Why do bathrooms seem to take such heavy punishment? A bathtub had been dragged out of position and sinks were pulled off their mountings. This would require serious muscle and surely wasn't purely the work of youngsters out for kicks. Breaking a toilet bowl, maybe. But who attempts to move a bath? I later found out the house had been targetted by copper thieves and suddenly it made a lot more sense. I remember as a teenager, chatting to a plumber who was converting our old utility room into a downstairs shower room. All plastic piping by then but there was an old washbasin left over from the days when the premises were occupied by a doctor who actually practised from the house, as was common back then. The workman tossed the copper cut-offs into his tool bag and said there was enough to buy him a few pints. A nice bonus, I remember thinking. I would imagine an old mansion could provide a substantial illicit gain if you are able to strip out the valuable metal. Somebody wrote online that he had seen the bath full of scrap. Perhaps the extraction and removal are planned as two separate operations. There had apparently been a fair bit of police interest in the place. They were anxious to apprehend the thieves.
I didn't know any of this as I had a sneaky look around. I later found out the residents in the other estate properties were sick to death of visitors arriving at Newmiln House, either for innocent or nefarious purposes. Several people said they had been asked to leave or had been monitored as they took pictures of the exterior. One girl wrote how the police were lying in wait at the estate entrance and told her to scarper as they were trying to catch those up to no good. There were other tales of neighbours calling the police on urban explorers, even those who were just taking pictures. A man and his wife had their names logged for simply standing about outside, although I'm sure it was a case of the officers having to do something at the time. I don't see how any charges could have been brought. Thankfully, I didn't read of any innocent parties being arrested. Many seasoned urbexers were saying it's best to give the place a wide berth and it wouldn't be long until the house got completely wrecked. A heavy police presence, kids hanging around smoking joints and generally making a mess, shady looking adults in the vicinity. Only a matter of time until a fire occurred, warned some old timers. I can fully understand the concerns of those in the surrounding dwellings. Aside from the hassle of people coming and going, a criminal presence would obviously be unwelcome and a serious blaze the biggest risk of all. Last year I stumbled upon another Perthshire country house that had been accidentally gutted by fire. Not a lot was left.
Having explored which must have amounted to one wing, I pushed into a corridor at ground level and noticed an old-style safe with the door hanging open. It was fairly dark and I needed to use my camera flash. I'm not entirely sure why, but at this point I decided I was happy with my little scout around and I ducked back outside. There was nobody around and I started walking back to the car, vaulting over the little front gate in the process. I did turn back briefly to check out the entrance to the walled garden. I could see what appeared to be a house in the far corner and there was a sign where I stood, warning of free roaming dogs. Having sussed out the place was probably separately occupied, I retreated but did wonder about the severity of the words. Looking back, I can see why the occupants wanted to deter people from entering their space. Off I set for Perth and I was happy I'd seen a part of the grand old hotel. I assumed the rest of the place would be in similar condition, borne out by looking at other people's pictures. The one highlight I'd missed however was the lovely sweeping staircase, apparently reminiscent of the house in Gone With The Wind. I did kick myself for not having pushed a little deeper into the interior. A YouTube video revealed the next door along from the safe led to the main hallway and staircase. I had been five seconds walk away from it! Ah well, I've always believed in life it's better to be grateful for what you have rather than bitter about what you don't have. After the initial frustration, I applied the same logic here. I now had a 25-mile drive to Crieff and I would be swinging around the old drovers town to view an abandoned gatehouse. I'd seen pictures of this while googling around and tucked it away at the back of my mind. Probably not worth a trip in itself but worth stopping by if I happened to be in that neck of the woods.
The sprawling Monzie Estate offers luxury accommodation in the form of several cottages, the East Lodge and Mill House. The impressive lodge is described as a mini castle and features octagonal rooms, a turreted stairway, two bedrooms with accompanying bathrooms - one of which features an original cast-iron bath from Monzie Castle. The bulk of the castle was completed by 1795 but a serious fire in the early part of the 20th century reduced the grand pile to a smouldering ruin. Fortunately a successful restoration project was launched and visitors are welcomed during the summer months. It was a pleasant drive through Monzie village and the East Lodge stands right by the roadside. I slowed down for a gander then pushed on a little further to my destination - the abandoned Mid Lodge. Described on the Buildings At Risk Register as a fortified bridge: with a segmental arch, high enclosing rubble walls, circular entrance arches with machicolations over circular towers at the corners and a two-storey keep. The structure is built across a burn and I squeezed my car into the lay-by next to a disused estate entrance where the small gatehouse is also derelict. A stroll of a few hundred yards brought me to the crumbling lodge and it was indeed an impressive site. Parts of the building were sheathed in scaffolding which I had already read about online. Fencing prevented direct access but it was still possible to view the quirky fortification down at stream level.
There's always a trade-off between the disappointment of not being able to set foot inside a decaying building and the pleasure of seeing evidence of efforts to halt further deterioration. Off I toddled back to the car and I chuckled at the sign urging drivers to ignore any SatNav instruction to use this entrance. No doubt there are people who blindly follow the computer's advice even though the road ahead looks unsuitable. I tend not to use the technology although I see how it must be invaluable to delivery drivers or anyone who has to regularly navigate unfamiliar territory. Nicole sometimes switches on the app if we are struggling to find a location but generally I prefer to do my research in advance, checking out road junctions on Google Maps and even zooming in on Street View to read the actual signage. Back in the comfort of my vehicle, I scribbled out a couple of letters, part of a project to write to some of my favourite establishments, wishing them every success following the Corona epidemic. I used the computer to create a letterhead containing my contact details but the text itself was handwritten. I got quite a few replies thanking me for my support. We live in an age of instant communication but there's a charm about receiving an old-school letter, perhaps more so for those who remember the pre-internet days. I fired my envelopes into a rural postbox - a Victorian one no less!
I turned back towards Crieff and then drove the few miles towards the lovely village of Muthill. It has a traditional tearoom - one of the recipients on my good-luck mailing list. I headed out to the former Culdees Estate and found a parking spot just off the road. I strolled in past the gatehouse and made my way towards the semi-abandoned castle. Back in the 1960s, the occupiers had a seven bedroom home constructed alongside the historic Culdees Castle. Completed in 1810, the Gothic-style red ashlar building served as a stately home for several dynasties until the Maitland-Gardners decided to vacate the premises, by then riddled with dry rot. The furnishings were sold and the grand old residence left to the elements for several decades. In 2019, Tracey Horton from Kent purchased the modern house which was actually advertised as having a private castle in its back garden. A rather intriguing selling point! As stated on the Culdees Estate website - The castle has crumbled internally but the outer walls stand strong and a magnificent stone spiral staircase remains, leading to the upper floors. The east wing roof is largely intact. The family plan to restore as much of the castle to its former glory as possible with funding being generated from glamping, weddings and private hires.
I took a few nice photos from outside the perimeter fence and noted a large pile of dung dumped across an access road - perhaps a deterrent to explorers hoping to drive right up to the castle. Fair enough, the owners are living here and actively restoring the ruins. Aside from the nuisance of strangers wandering about, there are obvious health and safety considerations. A genuinely abandoned house is fair game but in this case it would definitely be intrusive to try and gain unauthorised entry to the castle.
Back to Crieff and lunch in the Lidl car-park, listening to the chancellor announce the latest economic measures on Radio 5 Live. Support for the furlough scheme was being scaled back and you have to wonder how many jobs will simply disappear once employers have to shoulder the full burden. I embarked on a pleasant drive alongside Loch Earn and entered territory now administered by Stirling Council. However, this expanse of land out towards Callander, Aberfoyle and Crianlarich is all historic Perthshire and most businesses thankfully include the Big County in their address. Those who erroneously refer to the region as Stirlingshire probably also don't realise that Stirling Council doesn't even cover all of the historic county of the same name. A huge chunk is missing! People often conflate modern councils with traditional counties, sometimes insisting the old county has somehow been done away with. Yet, what we know as a local authority only came into being in 1890. The counties were well defined for centuries prior to any local government administrative divisions. I digress, but the protection of traditional territories really chimes with me. I had another abandoned house on my list in this part of West Perthshire but first I wanted to pay tribute to a Scottish legend whose stomping ground I was now visiting. Rob Roy MacGregor is perhaps our most famous folk hero and he is interred at Balquhidder Churchyard - at least that's the official version.
MacGregor lived between 1671 and 1734. He was by turn soldier, businessman, cattle-rustler and outlaw. The popular conception is a latter day Robin Hood whose transformation into a larger-than-life figure began with Daniel Defoe's fictionalised biography "Highland Rogue". This was published while Rob Roy was still alive and led to the Royal Pardon in 1726 that allowed him to live out his final years quietly. Literally a legend in his own lifetime. He was born in Glengyle House on the shore of Loch Katrine. Nicole and I had seen the property from a distance when we did the steamboat trip up and down the loch (a journey I can highly recommend). The Balquhidder graveyard was a pleasant place to stop and Rob Roy's headstone has the inscription MacGregor - despite them. There are stories suggesting he may actually be buried elsewhere which only add to the mystique surrounding this famous Scotsman. I then drove down to the shore of Loch Voil which offered stunning views of the water nestled between the surrounding hills. The village phone box has been transformed into a book exchange and it's nice to see a redundant piece of technological infrastructure being used to benefit the community as well as promoting literature. I set off on foot for my final explore - the abandoned Stronvar House which was built around 1850. As the 20th century wore on, the house became a youth hostel and later a tea room and hotel. The property has been empty for between 10 and 15 years and existing decay apparently led to rapid further deterioration. From the loch-side car-park, I walked along a private access road past several modern homes. A sign indicated Loch Voil Hostel a few miles away but I figured that must refer to a new development, not the old Stronvar House.
I then passed a demolition site and briefly thought I'd missed the boat until my target hove into view. The lower windows were boarded up but there was remarkably little evidence of exterior damage. Having occupied properties nearby no doubt deters those with malicious intent - as does the remote location. I strolled around the gardens and it certainly appeared - at least from the outside - as though the house could be potentially saved. I had read reports of the place being riddled with damp when still operating as a hotel and that could well have turned into serious rot. I noticed a basement door without a barricade that probably led to the kitchen area. Perhaps I could have climbed down pushed it open but I was wary of triggering an alarm in area where some of the neighbours were out working in their gardens on a nice afternoon. I was content simply to stroll around. I posted some photos on a Perthshire memories page and - as expected - the most common response was bemusement as to why the house was being allowed to decay. Why had nobody bought it? Assuming the owners actually wanted to sell, people don't take into account the costs required to bring the place up to standard. That in itself is a situation which could provoke a stand-off between potential suitors and the current owners, with the former looking for an ultra-cheap deal and the latter holding out for what they think is a more realistic price. My mission was complete.... almost. After passing the remains of Balquhidder Station (must check them out sometime), I headed towards my final stop of the day - The Scottish Real Ale Shop.
Operating as an adjunct to the excellent Lade Inn, the ale shop is located a few miles outside Callendar. It stocks a wide range of brews from some far flung places in Scotland - including beers from the Isle of Colonsay. There are also bottles from more recognisable breweries and you are sure to find something to suit your taste. The Lade house ales are also available - brewed by Tryst of Falkirk. prices are obviously more expensive than the supermarket but neither are they sky high - unlike some of the high-end farm shops which slap a ridiculous premium on Scottish ale (no doubt cashing in on the whole "craft beer" phenomenon). As I was browsing, the man behind the counter was busy boxing up orders for dispatch. People really do seem to have supported local breweries and beer outlets during the lockdown, which is one positive side to this challenging time. I grabbed around 30 quid's worth and it was actually my first alcohol purchase for some weeks. We had been doing our weekly shop by Click & Collect and picking up the goods early doors - hence no booze permitted. Satisfied with my haul, which would keep me going for some time (I like to sip away at a beer in the late evening), I set off for home. An entertaining day with an interesting variety of exploration.
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