Nicole and I were sitting in Café Wynd, Dunfermline, trying to think of an interesting bird-related expedition, something different to the usual reserves we haunt. She remembered visiting the Red Kite Centre near Doune at some point in the past and we looked up the place online. They were due to feed the birds in a couple of hours so we headed off to the town where we married back in 2008. Doune can be reached in 30 minutes from our home village and a large chunk of the journey is on the motorway. The bird centre was a couple of miles further along a minor road. We passed the old trackbed of the Callander to Dunblane railway and the section at Doune seemed to have been converted to a walkway. I mentally filed this away. It's always a good strategy to keep your eyes peeled and I was to be rewarded big style on the way home, but I'm getting ahead of myself.
The reserve was a private concern situated on a farm and there was a small visitors centre and toilets. We were greeted by a friendly chap named Ross who informed us it would cost £7 each to enter the hide and watch the kites feeding. A short walk uphill was required and there was ample seating in the shelter. Another couple soon arrived and Ross gave us a talk about the status of the red kite past and present. It was once commonplace but had died out in Scotland and England due to ceaseless persecution and the activities of egg collectors. It retained a toehold in Wales and was surely on the way out until the RSPB intervened and successfully etsablished a re-introduction programme. A few more visitors arrived and Ross distributed binoculars as the food (deer offal) was laid out in anticipation of a swoop. I had my camera at the ready. I really enjoy taking photos of birds and (inevitably) posting them on social media. I do slowly accumulate facts about our feathered friends but Nicole is a fountain of knowledge compared to me.
It didn't take long for the birds to start circling overhead. Just a couple initially but soon growing to a dozen or more. It can be frustrating trying to get a good shot of a bird of prey in flight and you have to be patient and hope for a slice of luck. Often you catch the detail but only manage to frame part of the bird. I did get a few decent snaps and also observed the action though the binoculars. You don't want to spend the whole time staring through a camera lens. Ross had refrained from telling us exactly how the kites would feed and it was a bit of a surprise. After watching them repeatedly fly in circles, one bird plucked up the courage to come all the way down to the ground to snatch a morsel and speed off again. That was the sign for the rest to zoom in and grab their share. Very little time was spent on the deck. They repeated this procedure a handful of times until the nosh was gone. A worthy spectacle, especially of you're seeing it for the first time. I certainly felt I'd got my money's worth and as the place receives no outside funding, they rely on visitor contributions.
We decided to head along to Dollar Glen in the hope of spotting a dipper and left the kite centre. After half a mile, trundling down the narrow access road, something caught my eye. A sign hung on an ornate gate informing us the premises were being watched by a security company. A slightly overgrown track led inside and was flanked by mock gas lanterns. Wrought iron railings ran along the roadside. My immediate thought was - that looks like an old estate. I parked on a low verge and wandered over to investigate. I could see a building in the distance and my camera zoom confirmed the structure was obviously derelict. I went back to the car, said to Nicole I would have to research the place and come back sometime. Go for a look now, she said. I didn't need to be told twice. I've had a fascination for abandoned places (especially old mansions) ever since I stumbled across the ruined Dunmore House near Airth in Stirlingshire. I've since visited a few similar locations after tracking them down online but this was another chance encounter. I hopped over the low railings and followed a path through the trees and suddenly a huge old house stood before me, clearly in a dilapidated state. Closer inspection revealed it to be a stone shell, which is often the case with these places, particularly if the roof was taken off to avoid property tax or if serious fire damage (usually arson) had occurred. A common pattern is the house belongs to a wealthy family for generations but times change and the upkeep becomes unaffordable. Sometimes the property lingers on for a while in another guise but eventually becomes abandoned. The elements and vandalism hasten the decline. A sad story all round.
I was looking at yet another casualty. In one respect it's sad that Scotland lost a lot of these grand properties over the decades (many were demolished) but I also understand the social factors. After two world wars, there was little sympathy among working people for privileged families whose vast estates had fallen upon hard times. But the disappearance of architectural gems is a shame. Could an alternative use have been found? We must consider running and renovation costs. Many of these mansions were situated well off the beaten track. I whipped out my trusty camera and started clicking away, working my way around the property and venturing inside. It was a familiar story, looking up at daylight, all internal flooring gone and weeds growing around my feet. There did seem to be quite a few metal supports in place. I had a wander about then headed over to a small outbuilding where I was surprised to find an empty outdoor swimming pool. I could see more substantial additional structures to the side of the main house and decided to investigate them, being wary of the fact they may not be uninhabited. Broken windows confirmed they were indeed abandoned and I strode around with confidence knowing I was the only person here (a great feeling). The urban exploration scene is very popular, judging by the number of posts you see about it online. There are also a great number of women involved. It's by no means a nerdy guy thing. One thing that unites urbexers is revulsion at those who deliberately torch or deface these locations. The golden rule is explore, take photos and videos if you desire, but leave the place as you found it. Amen to that!
I admired the ornate wrought ironwork featured on gates and balconies and I also spotted a carved lion's head adorning the stonework of the main house. The courtyard where I now stood appeared to be an old stable block. It had obviously been converted into additional living quarters or perhaps office space. Bits and pieces of furniture could still be seen through the shattered window panes. I didn't attempt to climb in as Nicole was waiting for me in the car and I didn't have any protective gear on. I took the estate road back to the entrance I had first noticed when passing by. I'd just spent an afternoon watching kites and now I felt as high as one. The exhilaration was rushing through my veins after such a spectacular random explore. If you get a buzz from healthy and educational pursuits then isn't that a highly positive thing? We stopped at Dunblane on the way home, hoping to spot a dipper in the Allan Water but the river was a raging torrent after the recent heavy rainfall. No bird would have stood a chance against that current - even a dipper with its specially strengthened legs. Later in the evening, I researched the history of my find and instantly unearthed several stories about a serious fire at a Perthshire Mansion in 2011. It hadn't been lying empty but was home to a family who were sunning themselves in the garden when flames began licking around the roof. The blaze was caused by the careless actions of a workman. Argaty House had been purchased for £1.75 million at the turn of the century. A historic mansion wiped out purely by accident. Do the owners accept an insurance payout in these cases and start again elsewhere?
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