With no particular plans made for the day, Nicole said she fancied a trip up the A9 to Killiecrankie. I swiftly agreed as I'd had my eye on a potentially interesting urbex venture up in that neck of the woods. We battered up the M90 to Perth and then on the infamous A9 - often labelled Scotland's most dangerous road. I've traversed it many a time as it is the direct route to the north and my parents formerly had a static caravan in Sutherland. The road's reputation is somewhat unjustified; statistics show it doesn't have the worst accident rate but it does suffer from high-profile crashes during the very busy summer season. The installation of average-speed cameras has helped cool things down, while raising the HGV speed limit seems to have reduced the number of crazy overtaking manoeuvres.
The A9 is currently being upgraded to constant dual carriageway between Perth and Inverness. We hit a 5-mile stretch of roadworks just north of the Fair City which took a while to negotiate but thereafter the route was quiet. Very strange to drive towards Highland Perthshire without huge numbers of tourists on the roads. Killiecrankie lies just north of Pitlochry and we pulled into the visitor's centre. The final couple of miles was along a twisty B-road which was probably part of the old A9 before significant improvements were made in the 1970s. Back then you would have had to pass through many towns and villages en route to Inverness. The new road basically followed the same route but cut the settlements out of the equation. From the car-park we could see the elevated modern A9 carriageway embedded in the rocky sides of the valley. Clearly the dualling of certain stretches will pose significant engineering puzzles. The visitors centre was closed due to Covid and we headed out on to one of the woodland trails. A nice bonus was the sight of the main railway line winding through the treetops on a curving viaduct. We soon arrived at a clearing looking down upon the fabled Soldiers Leap - a location on the River Garry at the northern end of the Pass of Killiecrankie. Soldier's Leap marks the spot in the narrow wooded gorge where government redcoat Donald MacBean is said to have avoided certain capture (or death) at the hands of pursuing Jacobite forces by jumping 18.5 feet across the water after the Battle of Killiecrankie in 1689. I must admit I took one look at the chasm and instantly thought "no way". A good yarn though.
We decided not to climb down to the valley floor and made our way back to the car. We followed the course of the River Tummel - which meets the Garry near Pitlochry - and stopped at another visitors centre, this one named Queen's View. Sited at a point where the river broadens into Loch Tummel, Queen's View was apparently given its name after long-reigning Victoria visited the area in 1866 and expressed her immense admiration for the surrounding landscape. Another tale which has suspect origins, but I'm prepared to run with it. The vista is indeed breathtaking, sweeping down the loch with the Schiehallion mountain brooding in the background. A fine mist on the water obscured matters but I would certainly like to return here on a clear day. It is apparently one of Scotland's most photographed locations. The visitors complex included a café and shop and we popped into the latter to show some support. We were the only customers and indeed only a handful of other people had been milling around at the viewpoint. I bought a pocket-sized book on wild flower identification which should prove useful. Before we moved on, we asked the proprietor if she might recommend a local forest walk. Description duly noted, we proceeded to drive the full length of Loch Tummel, passing through the holiday village of Tummel Bridge. It was time to get into urbex mode. This was an explore I'd been looking forward to for a while. A big one. The mighty Dunalastair.
This would be my first trip to a ruined country mansion in a truly isolated setting. The other abandoned estates I'd visited had all been within a short drive of a town. I knew from online research this place had been crumbling for decades but hopefully the harder-to-reach location would mean the building was less prone to vandalism and attempts at fire raising. I had already used Google Maps to determine the entrance point from the B846 and the satellite images showed an estate track leading past a few cottages and down towards the site of the grand house. I would surely be able to head in and find somewhere to park. The journey went smoothly and we drove straight into the car-park of the Old Laundry holiday cottage. The place seemed deserted and was almost certainly another Corona closure. Nicole's excitement was starting to mount as she was about to set off on her first proper explore. No more sitting in the car waiting for me to return, but actual boots on the ground. Heady stuff! As it turned out, we only had to walk a short distance to the house and it was indeed a cracker. The wider estate is still very much a working concern and the website has this to say about the former Gothic-style mansion. Dunalastair House was designed by Perth-based architect Andrew Heiton who also conceptualised the Atholl Palace Hotel and Dunkeld railway station. Construction was completed in 1852. It was only used in a residential sense until the First World War. At this point in time, the staff needed to run such a large property became short in supply. As the second global conflict broke out, the house was requisitioned as a school for refugee Polish children - a period during which it was considerably damaged. A fire in the living room caused the loss of a Millais painting.
The contents were sold in the 1950s after the current owner’s grandmother’s death. Standing empty and unprotected, the property was badly vandalised when lead was stripped from the roof. In those days it was not viable to repair the damage and no restoration grants were available. The condition of the building deteriorated rapidly with most removable parts stolen over time. Various ideas have been put forward for the future, but the rebuilding costs would be enormous and nothing has so far come to fruition. There we have it - another spectacular ruin with a colourful history culminating in neglect. The original owner was General Sir John Macdonald of Dalchosnie. Later occupants were Hugh Tennent (boss of the famous brewery) and James Clark Bunten - chairman of the Caledonian Railway. The property was finally vacated in 1952 meaning it functioned - in one way or another - for exactly 100 years. The shell will probably still be extant in 2052 - testimony to the solidity of the construction if nothing else. Despite the superb location in the shadow of Schiehallion, overlooking the eastern end of Loch Rannoch, this house is no doubt doomed to continuing decay. The current estate owner is apparently open to the idea of restoration but is unwilling to consider conversion into a hotel or flats as it wouldn't be in keeping with peaceful nature of the area. I guess that pretty much rules out any further development. Who on earth is going to take this building on as a family home?
It was possible to walk around the entire building without hindrance. The MacDonald family crest was still proudly on display and I'm always amazed at the hardiness of these carved emblems. The mansion towered above us and it was often challenging to find a spot with enough clearance behind me to fit the upper turrets and cones into the picture frame. Safety fencing encircled the main building but I spotted a couple of weak points where I could have slipped inside. However I was in full health & safety conscious mode with my missus in tow. Not that there would have been a great deal to experience within the compound in any case. The internal flooring had gone and the house was basically an elaborate set of stone walls. Still, it's often interesting to poke around and have a closer look at the masonry. You sometimes find the odd nugget lying around. On the other side of the coin, you have to be very careful where you place your feet and then there is the lush vegetation to contend with. As I worked my way around the rear, I managed to scramble up a grassy mound which provided a nice downward angle for photos. There were a couple of minor outbuildings but my focus remained on the big house. I thought I might have met a fellow explorer but it was just the two of us for the duration of our visit. Nicole expressed her admiration of the architecture and seemed to be enjoying herself. Not a bad location for your first urbex adventure! Satisfied with our lot, we returned to the Old Laundry and made our way out of the estate. The website lists several holiday properties scattered throughout the grounds. It looks as if the place has found its niche in the market and I wouldn't expect any announcement saying the profits were to be ploughed into relaunching the palatial Dunalastair House.
I did receive one unexpected query after I posted my pictures online. A colleague - Penny Brown - was about to go on holiday in the area and wanted directions to the old house. I gratefully supplied the details and - sure enough - a report of the expedition popped up on Penny's feed a week later. Always happy to help a fellow urban explorer. We paused in the village of Tummel Bridge to have a look at the river crossing and the place was deathly quiet, due to the large chalet park being empty. Our next stop was at Allean Wood on the fringes of the vast Tay Forest Park. From here we would tackle the walk recommended to us back in the Queen's View visitors centre. Various route permutations were shown on the information board and we opted for a two-mile loop that would take in an abandoned farmstead. The path quickly gained height and Schiehallion could be picked out in the distance. The blue stretch of Loch Tummel glistened as a strip of blue among the pervading green. I began to realise just why Perthshire is sometimes referred to as Big Tree Country. The walk was mixed terrain: a grassy footpath giving way to a gravel forest road then plunging down the green slopes between the ferns. The old farm cottages were located towards the end of our trail and provided an interesting historical addition to a pleasant woodland wander (or hike, as the tired legs began to protest). The layout included the foundations of abandoned buildings as well as a restored dwelling with a turfed roof. I went inside for a look and it is indeed handy that we now carry torches in our pockets at all times as part of our mobile device.
We decided to stop at Pitlochry for dinner on the way home. Before we reached the A9, I had the pleasure of being squeezed towards a hedge as a truck hared round a bend on the narrow road which was only just wide enough to accommodate two vehicles. I guess people tend to get out of your way when you're driving a big beast. The locals know every inch of these minor routes but the visitor is well advised to proceed with caution and always expect the unexpected! Pitlochry was eerily quiet and not only could I pick my parking spot on the main drag, I was able to execute a U-turn without the slightest difficulty. Normally the High Street would be thronging with tourists visiting the pubs and restaurants or spilling out the theatre. Today there were a mere handful of amenities open and virtually nobody milling around. But it was a start, just a couple of days since serious lockdown had been lifted. Only al fresco dining was permitted and we grabbed a table next to the pavement at the fish & chips place. The neighbouring garden of a private house had been taken over by the chippy and tables were laid out on the patio. Two fish suppers were ordered and consumed with gusto. A great British tradition, and I'm secure enough in my Scottish identity to embrace customs that span the length and breadth of this fantastic island. The light was dimming as we sped back down the A9. It had been a snap decision to come up here but a worthy trip.
Comments