The 40-mile river trail starts in the middle of Glasgow and winds its way upstream to the historic village of New Lanark. This report details the third stage from Blantyre to Wishaw. My first foray had been the urban section between the city and Cambuslang, where I found an amazing Wetherspoons pub that had been converted from an old cinema. I followed this up with a lovely outing from Cambuslang to Blantyre, passing the impressive Bothwell Castle.
I drove through to Blantyre early on a Saturday morning, parking close to the David Memorial suspension footbridge which spans the river. Unfortunately the nearby visitor centre is currently closed for refurbishment. I set off, spotting a bullfinch almost immediately. Always nice to tick a few wildlife boxes. Lanarkshire Council has produced a few handy PDFs detailing the various stages of the trail and the literature described the portion just beyond Blantyre as very informal. Apparently a steep embankment would have to be negotiated and a detour was suggested, referred to on the excellent Walk Highlands website as untidy due to the fact it involved boring pavement pounding. I decided to try my luck on the informal route, mainly because I wanted to see the remains of the towering Bothwell Viaduct. It was actually a fairly simple scramble down the embankment and a grassy expanse dotted with faint paths spread out in front of me. The viaduct piers were partially obscured by vegetation but I took some photos of the tops sticking out then made my way across the clearing. I think it's part of an old estate now used by dog walkers. I found a gap in the wall to pass through on the far side.
I had to follow a cycleway alongside the busy A725 for a stretch, thankfully screened from the traffic by trees. This led by the historic Bothwell Lido and I then had to navigate towards Strathclyde Country Park by crossing a couple of footbridges over motorway interchanges. The instructions in the council leaflet were out of date at this point, suggesting I take a flight of steps down to the riverbank. There was a path but it was badly neglected and I soon hit a dead end against the earthwork of a new carriageway. I had to backtrack and follow a tarmac cycle path alongside the road. A minor grumble. The traffic noise faded as I entered the huge green space with its artificially created loch. It was a pleasant if largely featureless stroll for a couple of miles along the water's edge. A rowing competition appeared to be in progress. I briefly jumped off the trail for a look at the mausoleum on the outskirts of Hamilton. Apparently it has an impressive echo chamber within but the building is only open a couple of times per month.
Onwards to an attractive leafy trail closely following the banks. I passed under a huge railway viaduct. A train was courteous enough to pass just as I pointed my camera. The route took on an increasingly rural feel as it skirted Baron's Haugh Nature Reserve and I checked out a couple of bird hides. Entering Dalzell Estate, my way was blocked by half a dozen cows. Not wishing to confront them directly, I hopped into the adjacent field and quietly gave them a wide berth. Suddenly a family hared round the bend on bikes and barged their way through the cattle, ringing bells and shouting in what sounded like Spanish. Ok, that's how it's done then. The river was becoming noticeably narrower and a grassy path followed its course through pasture land. I was planning to leave the walkway at a point close to a ruined mansion known as Cambusnethan Priory. From here I could walk to the town of Wishaw and catch a train. An old structure flashed up on my internal radar but it was too early for the priory. I decided to cut across a bumpy field and investigate.
It turned out to be the site of an old family tomb. Several gravestones stood around the tall monument. Subsequent research revealed the name of the place as Belhaven Mausoleum. The site is overgrown and clearly no longer maintained. However this does add to the atmosphere and it's always nice to find something completely unexpected. Eventually I reached the point where I had to leave the official Clyde Walkway and take a minor single-track road towards the old priory. Passing a pig farm and a couple of residential properties, the mansion appeared in front of me as I rounded a tight bend. I had been able to find this location on Google Street View and knew what to expect. These buildings however are always more imposing in real life, especially when illuminated by the sun. Yes, on a rather drab day, I had arrived at exactly the right time as the weather took a turn for the better. Out came the trusty camera. I believe this is a well-known location among urban explorers and I met a few other people checking the place out. The priory has been abandoned since the early 1980s and dates from 1820. It has fallen into serious disrepair and is now little more than an empty shell, although the wonderfully crenellated gothic-style architecture of the remaining walls blows you away.
I did find a way into the cellars and climbed back out of a window space on the far side. The internal flooring has all gone, which is what happens when you whip the roof off. I believe this tactic of rendering the property uninhabitable allowed the owners to avoid paying rates but it also ensured a swift decline. I assume the Listed Building legislation prohibits demolition and these old decaying mansions seem to be caught in limbo. Massively expensive to restore, they are simply left to rot. I wonder if the protected status can eventually be overridden should the structure decline into a dangerous state, or indeed if the property holders can then be forced to pay for shoring-up measures? Explorers now have the opportunity to hunt these places down but how many buildings could have been put to community use rather than left to decay? High running costs probably sealed the fate of many a grand old house.
The usual post-urbex buzz was worn away by a steep trudge uphill to Wishaw. In the mood for a cold drink, I located a cashpoint only to be told I would be charged a fee for making a withdrawal. The same message was displayed at another ATM. Very strange. I was on a public street in a densely populated part of Scotland. You often have to pay for using machines inside the boundaries of, say, a concert venue, but not in town centres! Looks as if the drive towards the cashless society has already started in Lanarkshire. And who exactly will be hit the hardest? Hmmm, let me think about that one. On my high horse, I dug out my small change and scraped together 69p for a half-litre can of Irn Bru. Why should I pay to access my own money (which the banks use to make a profit from borrowers)? Also, how many local branches have been closed over the years in the name of cost cutting? And don't get me started on the big taxpayer funded bail-out following the financial crisis. The banks owe us! I had to take two trains back to Blantyre, changing at Motherwell. The Clyde Walkway is certainly an interesting trail and its central location makes it easily accessible to a huge swathe of the population. I would however like to see the annoying diversions tidied up, particularly at the Glasgow end which is where the main market lies.
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