Scotland's largest settlement Glasgow stands on the River Clyde which can be followed in both directions from the city centre - a route known as the Clyde Walkway. I had already done a fair stretch of the upstream path (as far as Wishaw) that runs all the way to the historic mill at New Lanark - some 40 miles away. Today I panned to head a couple of miles downstream along the quayside to the Riverside Transport Museum before switching to an old railway line that would take me to the Dunbartonshire town of Clydebank. It was a glorious January day and taking attractive photographs would not present a challenge.
Glasgow was once world famous for its shipyards along the Clyde but the industry has now vanished from the urban parts of the river. A few yards remain on the Upper Clyde. Two are owned by naval defence contractor BAE Systems. A far cry from the days when an estimated fifth of all sea-going vessels were assembled on this river. Today the former docklands are occupied by leisure facilities and new housing developments. I took the bus through early on a Sunday morning and strolled down to the riverside. I walked below several road, rail and pedestrian bridges before the landscape opened up as I exited the central business district. The Clyde Arc was prominent in the middle distance. Known to locals as the Squinty Bridge, due to crossing the river at an angle, the Arc opened in 2006 and was the first road crossing of the Clyde since the Kingston Bridge was opened to motorway traffic in 1970. The first industrial landmark I came across was the Finnieston Crane, a massive now-disused cantilever device that has been retained as a symbol of the city's heavy engineering past. It loaded machinery on to ships for export around the world and could lift a steam locomotive with ease. Indeed, around 30,000 iron horses are reckoned to have been manoeuvred on to deck at the Queen's Dock here. Standing 175 feet tall with a 150-foot jib, the crane was erected in 1931 and could hoist cargo weighing up to 180 tons. The docks closed in 1969 but the crane was kept in operational condition for another 20 years. Its last job was to a handle a creation by Glasgow sculptor George Wylie. He devised a memorable and poignant piece of artwork - The Straw Locomotive - to be lifted by the engineering marvel. Designed to the scale of a full size working locomotive, the straw machine was paraded slowly through the streets, then dangled from the Finneston's jib for two weeks. It was left to twist in the wind before being brought down to earth and set ablaze as a commemoration of this once vital industry.
Straight across the road from the crane was the Hydro entertainments venue. Purposely built with acoustics in mind, the elliptical arena has a maximum permitted capacity of 14300 and 12000 retractable seats. This allows the balance between standing and seated patrons to be varied, depending on the nature of the event. Besides music concerts and stage productions, the Hydro also hosts conferences and sports events such as boxing, gymnastics and darts. There's even a monster truck show on the current schedule! I saw Iron Maiden there a few years ago and sat near the back. The sound was excellent and the sightlines good. For bands who tour cavernous indoor venues, the Hydro basically replaces the SECC (Scottish Exhibition & Conference Centre) across the road. The latter certainly had sufficient capacity but it was akin to staging a gig in an aircraft hangar with sound bouncing around everywhere. It's good that Glasgow now has a music venue that sits between a theatre and a football stadium. These huge indoor shows are no doubt highly profitable when they sell out. Much of the infrastructure is already present and the weather can't put a dampener on the proceedings. An stadium show is much more of a gamble, although you can potentially win big if it all comes off on the day. Next to the Hydro is the more compact Armadillo Theatre. The 3000-seat facility hosts a wide range of events and opened back in the late 90s. It quickly became known as the Armadillo due to the shape of the building and now officially sports this title, having originally begun life as the Clyde Auditorium. I saw Whitesnake there in 2005. David Coverdale in fine voice and Tommy Aldridge throwing his sticks away during a drum solo, only to continue with his hands. Straight across the river from where I stood was the BBC Broadcasting Centre. I am admirer of the Beeb and their TV and radio output forms the staple of my viewing and listening. The old corporation has its challenges in an age of instant streaming across multiple platforms and - rather concerningly - the average age of a BBC1 or BBC2 consumer is now over 60. Perhaps not as bad as it sounds when you consider the fact we have a seriously ageing population, although that must fall off a cliff at some stage. However, the quality of broadcasting remains extremely high and we are indeed blessed to enjoy such independent provision, free of private sector tycoons. Pay no attention to the handful of nationalists who berate the BBC for being "biased". Whatever next? Celtic fans claiming there is a refereeing conspiracy working against them? As the Buffalo Springfield once sang, "paranoia runs deep, into your life it will creep". The licence fee model can't possibly continue in the long term though. It was devised in an age when we only had access to a handful of channels. Let's hope we don't ever lose the marvellous BBC4 or the plethora of radio stations.
Further along from the BBC is the Science Centre. I went there around 20 years ago but found the place a bit too kiddie orientated. Great family fun and a nice addition to the waterfront regeneration scheme, but give me a traditional museum any day. Next door is the platinum plated cocoon shaped IMAX cinema - once part of the Science Centre but taken over by the Cineworld chain in 2013. Sadly the business seems to have fallen victim to the pandemic with the owners saying they have no plans to re-open Scotland's biggest individual screen. The cinema industry must have been hit incredibly hard by the lockdowns. Another example of a trend that was already underway being massively accelerated by the enforced change in lifestyle. A movie theatre used to offer a vastly superior film-watching experience to that on offer at home. The mass affordability of giant high-definition TVs and quality compact sound systems means the living room sofa is now the preferred option for many people. Extensive streaming libraries enable folk to watch a wide range of material with a single click. I still rent DVDs by post (for the sheer choice) but the likes of Netflix and Amazon Video (I have them too) provide more than enough titles for many viewers. Film buffs will be desperate to return to traditional viewing conditions and a night at the pictures still has its appeal. But knock a significant chunk of customers out of any market and the results will be painfully felt. Instead of being able to battle away over a 5-10 year period, thinking of ways to arrest and turn round a steadily declining customer base, cinemas now face sudden and potentially catastrophic change.
I had crossed the river at this stage as I wanted to examine the Waverley paddle steamer at close quarters. She is tied up here when not on duty as the last passenger-carrying craft of this type in the world and is a tourist attraction even when docked. Waverley has sailed as a preservation vessel since 1975 - longer than she actually operated as a commercial ship. Tours are offered between May and October at various locations around the British coast. She has featured in many television shows and films. Paddle steamer ferries became popular from the 1860s onwards - often run in conjunction with rail routes - but were eventually superseded by modern diesel boats capable of transporting vehicles. Today's Waverley was built in 1946 to replace a 19th-century vessel of the same name. A trip "doon the watter" to one of the islands in the Clyde estuary was a popular holiday excursion for Glaswegians until the arrival of cheap foreign package deals in the 1960s. Waverley was withdrawn from service in 1973 due to the difficulty of meeting running costs. She was badly in need of repair and was sold to the Paddle Steamer Preservation Society for a token £1. There was no real expectation of returning to full steam but a public appeal raised the finance to get her back out on the water and the PSPS found itself running a cruise ship operation - Waverley Excursions. She continues to sail from that day to this. I switched back to the north bank and walked along to the Riverside Museum - a transport exhibition with over 3000 objects on display. The collection is now housed in a purpose-built facility after formerly residing at the Kelvin Hall. The new museum opened in 2011 and I have visited several times. Admission is free and visitors can browse the city's fabulous transport and technology collections, which have been gathered over the centuries and reflect the important part Glasgow played in the mechanical world through its contributions to heavy industries like shipbuilding, train/tram manufacturing and engineering. Cars, motorbikes, bicycles and even prams are also represented in the spacious building. The mock-up of an old Glasgow street is a must-see. Berthed round the back you will find the tall ship Glenlee - the UK's only floating Clyde-built sailing vessel. You can roam around onboard. I had to keep moving as the daylight hours were short and there was no time for a museum visit. I crossed the River Kelvin at looked at its final downstream stretch as it emptied into the Clyde. Glasgow's second river rises 22 miles away in Kilsyth, Stirlingshire and follows a course through the west end of the city. The Kelvin Walkway is a recommended route to follow.
At this point I had to bear inland as it wasn't possible to proceed much further along the main riverbank. Banks of warehouses would soon get in the way. After a mile on the pavement, I picked up the remaining trackbed of the Dunbartonshire & Lanarkshire Railway. Disused since 1964, the route paralleled the shore as far as the industrial town of Clydebank. Connections to the docks were provided but the whole system attracted the unwelcome gaze of Dr Beeching in the 1960s as he sharpened his axe. Any railways deemed to be duplicating others were always on shaky ground and this system was duly snipped out of the national network forever. I found myself walking along an elevated straight section of tarred trackbed and caught glimpses of the Clyde between the industrial units. I soon encountered the remains of Scotstoun East station. The platform was still intact and steps led down to street level. I should have descended them as I later discovered the booking office still exists below the embankment. At the platform end stood a slender house-like structure shrouded in corrugated iron. I initially assumed it to be an old but basic signal box but - after spotting several similar huts along the line - came to the conclusion I was looking at a pigeon loft - apparently a popular activity in urban Glasgow. Bizarrely, the line crossed a small portion of historic Renfrewshire that extends to the north bank of the Clyde. I had always assumed the river was the traditional dividing line between the counties of Renfrew and Lanark. Most of what we know today as Glasgow belongs to Lanarkshire, although in terms of governance the city has conducted its own affairs since 1890. The line forked and my path continued while the other seemed to disappear into the undergrowth. The next port of call was the suburb of Yoker and I passed below a wide metal overbridge where another line had obviously joined at one time. Slightly further on, the offshoot from the previous junction crossed overhead on a derelict viaduct. I scrambled up the banking for a look but the decking was heavily fenced off. I would soon pick up this line however as the public path shuffled me from one trackbed to another. At this point I stopped to admire a lovely community garden project against the abutment of an old stone bridge. I understood little of the track layout at the time but it becomes clearer when studying your exact route on an Ordnance Survey map afterwards.
The path petered out near an area of dockland and I located the main road towards Clydebank town centre. I spotted the railway station and entered a large shopping centre for something to eat. The toilets were right at the back and I noticed signs for Singer Railway Station on the North Clyde line. This halt was built to serve the enormous sewing machine factory of the same name. At one time it was the largest concern of it's type in the world and closure finally came in 1980. I could see the station through the back doors of the shopping centre, therefore I had a choice of routes back to Glasgow. I decided upon Clydebank station and retraced my steps, pausing for a takeaway lunch. There was a regular train service and I was in no immediate hurry so I had a little wander around the town centre. A curious cube-shaped memorial was embedded in the concrete outside the shopping centre and it was dedicated to victims of asbestos poisoning. Sculptor Jephson Robb chose stainless steel because of its direct reference to the heavy industry and shipbuilding heritage of Clydebank. On one side, the names of over 500 known victims are engraved on a plaque. The rest of the available surface is blank, ready and waiting for the names of casualties yet to come. They will be added every year at a memorial service. I'm not sure of the exact connection to Clydebank, other than the association of asbestos with construction industries in general. Perhaps the material was used as insulation on ships? The first few decades of the industrial revolution largely passed Clydebank by. The modern town grew from the 1870s onwards following the development of a large shipyard as the industry expanded along the river. The site was chosen due to the close proximity of the Forth & Clyde Canal which provided a useful freight artery. The town suffered heavy damage during WW2 as the Luftwaffe attacked the infrastructure up and down the Clyde. A pair of air raids over consecutive nights in 1941 saw the German bombers target the shipyard, navy oil store and the Singer factory. If you're wondering why a sewing machine plant would be classed as a military target, bear in mind that it was common to convert manufacturing bases to contribute to the war effort. Over 500 civilians died in the attacks, by far the highest casualty figure in a Scottish town during the conflict, although some reckon the true death toll was around twice as much. Two thirds of the town's housing stock was destroyed but the damage inflicted on the key targets proved little more than cosmetic.
Clydebank Town Hall stands proudly on the main street. I wonder if local pop sensations Wet Wet Wet ever played a gig here? A popular wedding venue, West Dunbartonshire Council are currently examining ways in which the building can become more community focussed. Opened in 1902 after the newly-sprung industrial settlement was granted burgh status, the ornate building is now Category B listed. Amazingly, the hall survived the air raids largely unscathed and an impressive war memorial is set into an exterior wall. A bronze figure stands inside a black marble niche to symbolise peace. I hadn't realised the town museum is located within but I'm sure I'll be back at some point as I'm planning to explore the banks of the Clyde further downstream. Clydebank Football Club spent several seasons in the top division back in the 70s and 80s. Their most famous player was winger Davie Cooper who went on to enjoy an illustrious career with Rangers and Scotland before tragically dying from a brain haemorrhage aged just 39 while back at his first club as a player/coach. Sadly Clydebank FC no longer exist. They were bought over, moved to Lanarkshire and rebadged as Airdrie United in the sort of move that is commonplace in the USA but anathema to sporting traditionalists here. Ironically, the Bankies had originally joined the Scottish League as part of the fall-out of a controversial merger with East Stirlingshire. A new Clydebank FC has been formed and plays in the regional set-up but is it really the same club? I'm of the opinion that once you're gone, you're gone. Particularly if the old stadium has long since been demolished. I took a train back to Glasgow Central, purchasing an off-peak return as it was 10p cheaper than a standard single. My bus journey homewards was free as I was within the travel zone of my weekly Stagecoach pass. A glorious day for walking and another wodge of Scottish history embedded in my brain.
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