Shawlands. Shawbridge Street. Then And Now. Ch- Ch-Changes. Glasgow. 1800s to 2019.

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A few months ago, while researching the size of the Pollok Estate for the Nitshill post I came across a set of snapshots/paintings that really made me think. Although I always knew the area around Pollok and Nitshill, up towards the Barrhead Dams, was originally all part of Renfrewshire and a large estate.... as various crumbling ruins, old works, coal mines, quarries, and mansions, lay scattered across it, I never really appreciated just how vast it was in scale, covering most of south Glasgow, from Kinning Park to Shawlands to Cathcart to Langside to the lands above Barrhead- a substantial area. Most of it owned by the Maxwell family. As children exploring the land surrounding us we dimly understood that something had gone on before we arrived but it was a very vague elastic notion of history and age when we discovered an empty cottage, an abandoned and flooded quarry,World War Two gun emplacements, or a large mansion house buried in the deep woods, complete with half filled curling pond- all of it being rapidly reclaimed by nature. Anything older than the present day was ancient history to young kids, stretching back from 10 years ago to one thousand with not much time difference in-between. These building oddities seemingly out of place in an otherwise rural landscape of fields, woods, and farms we explained away as part of  ' The Lost World' , that other realm before present times existed....and didn't really think too deeply beyond that. So it was something of a shock to find out I was doing it yet again- this time with Shawlands. Probably due to the fact that the main street layout of Shawlands dates to Victorian and Edwardian times so appeared ancient already and I never really thought much of what it might have looked like before the 1900s.... so.... these paintings of the various districts in this link came as a real surprise to me... and a pleasure. Four pages of a different time period entirely.

Captured before Glasgow expanded outwards, swallowing up the existing countryside of gently rolling rural Renfrewshire.... there was the Pollok Estate of the 1830s, only a few small hamlets and villages in an otherwise empty land. The various built up Glasgow districts we take for granted today springing from individual farm names mostly ( Arden, Darnley, Kennishead, Carnwadric...) or from produce grown there (Orchard Park) or distinguishing features, (Nuts-hill, Thorn lee- bank, East- Wood, Brock Burn (habitat for badgers?) or from older history... Battlefield, Queen's Park (both Mary, Queen of Scots related names.)
Link Here.

https://www.theglasgowstory.com/advanced-search/?search=99&what=Pollok+Estate

It was only after viewing the above four pages of photo/paintings that the complete idea of a farming land existing before the various districts transformed countryside into city fell into place like jigsaw pieces landing in my lap.

The B listed mansion of Camphill House would have been an early arrival, built within what is now Queen's Park, constructed in the first two decades of the 1800s within the Maxwell owned Camphill Estate. Still occupied today, converted to upscale apartments.

Then Langside Halls, seen above, an A listed building originally situated in the city centre in the 1840s in Glasgow's Queen Street before it was moved to its current location in 1902 on the edge of Queen's Park at Shawlands Cross. A mere stones throw from Camphill House. Note the recent addition of a newly constructed plaza with public seating in an otherwise busy traffic and building heavy location.
Like other UK cities and worldwide suburbia in general the main spread of outlying districts only occurs after the railways arrive through the area, allowing easier daily access for commuters. Shawlands Railway Station and Cathcart Circular Line opens around the 1880s in Glasgow. Horse drawn carriage, stage coach or lone horse rider before then presumably to reach this far in a few hours outside the inner districts. Journeys undertaken on foot for the poorer citizens. Some of the land would be needed to supply the rapidly growing city with fresh produce,.... eggs, meat, milk, chickens and fresh fruit, flowers and veg. ( I found out fairly recently my grandfather was a carter, driving a horse and cart around the city, delivering fresh goods house to house... with plenty of fresh manure for the garden as a perk of the job.)

Other pieces of the jigsaw puzzle soon land in sequence. The elegant red sandstone Camphill Gate, seen above, constructed by 1906. Somewhat earlier, around the 1890s, the beautiful Camphill Estate is transformed into Glasgow's third city park by renowned prolific UK public park designer and landscape architect Sir Joseph Paxton. By the 1930s the Shawlands, Battlefield, Langside, Cathcart, and Crosshill tenement districts are all well established, much as we find them today, and the rural open countryside of 50 years earlier is a distant memory for old timers.

Remarkably, several Shawlands pubs from my own younger years still remain. Finlay's seen here on Kilmarnock Road.

The Georgic pub. As a teenager attending what was then Langside College we had a choice of three places to obtain a hopeful pint and right of passage. The Bay Horse, The Mulberry Hotel, in Camphill Avenue and The Georgic. The Mulberry was the closest but being more upmarket it sussed us out as underage drinkers the quickest, even when we pushed a fellow student sporting a thick beard in front of us to be our spokesmen. When that ploy failed we had to walk the extra distance to the Georgic, near Shawlands Cross, more of an old man's pub back then but usually busier inside so we could sneak in unnoticed behind our bearded Trojan horse, sometimes pretending to read the sports pages of a cunningly raised newspaper purchased as a further disguise. If we reached an empty table in what was a very small cramped interior the packed bar area of standing thirsty adult males usually hid us for one or two rounds before we were ejected. It only worked two or three times though then we had to find a new establishment once we got clocked and recognized. With so many pubs from 45 years ago shut down and no longer there it was great to find these still open but memories were enough so I didn't go in.

Instead I was on a mission... to document the different stages of building development in Shawlands and Shawbridge Street districts and when they occurred. It boiled down to three stages of building activity.

Shawlands Arcade interior. Built Late 1960s, early 1971 during another mini, lesser wave of energetic construction.

The flats at the back entrance to the same 1971 arcade. This arcade, one of the first of its kind in Glasgow's outlying shopping districts may be getting a major redevelopment soon.

Further up and further out from the 1900s constructed, four floors high tenement land of Shawlands Cross we arrive at Shawbridge Street, in Pollokshaws, another area I remember fondly.... as an urban mountain vastness. This early 2012ish photo shows some but not all of the hi rise flats that once dominated this area. As a teenage traveller through space and time from the 1960s to the late 1980s both sides of Shawbridge Street had a mixture of  deck access flats and soaring hi rise blocks, several more than the buildings left standing in this photo. Walking down Shawbridge Street then was an impressive experience... like an ant entering a maze of horizontal and vertical dominoes with the white 22 floor hi rise blocks packed in at the other faraway end, rising on a hill as the mountain head-wall/crowing glory.

I loved the place. It was the nearest district of sheer verticality to where I lived then and as a keen urban explorer all my life this was my first Manhattan.. my very own New York City... my mountain paradise. Always an exciting place to delve into... in a well behaved polite manner of course, inconspicuously wandering down every open corridor I could find, experiencing the views from every highest level possible. In those halcyon innocent early days you could do that. Without door entry systems you had that freedom. Especially if you had relatives that lived there and you were trying to locate them. My teenage companion living in the highest tower in the land. Lucky me. My incredible cloud city... my floating sweet Columbia of dreams....

Even with half of the mountain stronghold pulled down, just these white flats remaining, it's still very impressive today and I still enjoyed it, exploring around all these years later, but it's missing the long line of hi rise mid 1960s blocks that formed a deep twisting gorge gateway to reach this point on foot.

This lone last remaining tower block rising from the surrounding autumnal forest captured in early 2000s, now also demolished and gone to join its handful of tall friends, gives you some idea of its full majesty - imagine a line of these stone monoliths stretching ahead of you on both sides of Shawbridge Street with the white hi rise towers glimpsed ahead, soaring above in the distance and you get some idea of the impact of this place pre 2016 when the last standing leviathan crumbled into dust. On one memorable occasion, a misty autumn day of bright sunshine long, long ago we stood on the edge, high above the surrounding deciduous forests, (the great woodlands of Pollok, some trees dating right back to Medieval Britain) with  half of the city under the mist blanket and the spires of churches, hilltop castles, and other tower blocks sticking up in sharp relief, splashed with golden rays. Gods on Mount Olympus have lesser views to gaze at.

Even today, from certain high vantage points in 2019, it's not so shabby a view. Pollokshaws Burgh Hall here, (built 1890s) the detached mansions and castles of Pollokshields running along a low ridge, and the distant Campsie Fells in this photo.

Looking across Pollok woodlands to Tarfside Oval Hi Rise flats in red/brown ( now demolished as well, sniff sniff. Wah!) Moss Heights Flats ( still standing and refurbished. Hooray! A flat world is no fun.) and the distinctive bump of Dumgoyne. Who needs Eden when you have the vastness of Pollok to behold. These woodlands in October, decked out in a myriad of hues and different colours are truly exceptional seen in all their glory from a high vantage point.

It was with these thoughts and images in mind that I surveyed the modern reincarnation taking place around Shawbridge Street today. A very different, transformed area, still getting updated. An empty and almost abandoned shopping precinct. Soon to be pulled down.

New housing rising up phoenix like to replace the tower blocks. As in other areas of 'affordable housing' development districts throughout Glasgow, and other cities, thousands of homes are being replaced by a mere few hundred at most as far as I can see. As well as a shrinking population in the post industrial UK cities I am also noticing distinct signs of intentional or unintentional social cleansing going on- as in ... are the working class districts of old an endangered species today? It's not a joke. Just looking around over the past decade by bike and on foot I see various upmarket bought estates constantly expanding in size yet any traditional working class areas (council estates) I happen to visit have usually halved or more in population terms or been replaced with upscale private developments. Obviously private companies building houses will go for the ones with the largest profit margins but you would think that would leave many thousands of citizens without a roof over their heads. So it's a genuine mystery to me, during a supposed national housing shortage, where the traditional working class base, that I knew, are living these days within the city. What I would call the ordinary citizens- like myself- who could never afford a £200,000 to £400,000 house/flat mortgage in a million years... or pay it off.  Either it's A- a Tardis effect in modern housing with dozens packed in to much smaller boxes, B- everyone is rich in the zero hours and gig economy and can buy a posh house..., or C-we are hemorrhaging base of the pyramid citizens into a black hole somewhere. Do we even require a working class anymore in modern Britain? Are they future proof..... or merely expendable.. like newspapers, real shops, real money and living voices actually answering questions when you make a phone call to a business company? And where are all these past citizens going???? Heading abroad....? moon colonies...? Snuffed it? or living outside the city limits?

The properties built today are good looking homes but just less of them compared to what I remember, population wise, in this district 30 years ago... and in every visited district, not just this example but over dozens of different Glasgow estates, city wide. And even in outlying towns like Greenock and Port Glasgow, when they pull down large council estates a mere handful of houses replace them.

This area is better than most per number of new houses built and more still to come presumably but still a visual reduction from the missing tower blocks and deck access buildings of old and it still looks a half empty, and half constructed district somehow. So...if more people did live or were attracted to Glasgow and other post industrial UK cities, presumably the majority would have to come in nowadays at a certain level, able to afford to buy a house here, pay it off on a good annual dependable salary or from substantial savings from a previous house sale as the council housing stock of old is no longer available to accommodate many below that high bar. Renting from private landlords being the other option. As a result of this ongoing process you would think Glasgow would gradually elevate itself into a prosperous, largely middle class city, with fewer crime and social problems, given a much smaller lower rungs population base in the various outlying suburbs but I'm not convinced that is happening. According to latest published reports violent crime, murder, and other offences are on the up again after a downward trend in recent years so we may yet reclaim the murder capital of Europe title once more... if indeed we ever lost it.....which is surprising given we have far less citizens now than 50 years ago.
( Just checked online out of curiosity... Tallinn, Estonia (another beautiful city) is the new leader with Glasgow dropping down to second ... but still ahead of Moscow, Russia in 4th as most dangerous cities in Europe.) 

Some low level housing from the 1960s period of building remaining intact however, like here.

New and old tenements on Pollokshaws Road. The Old Swan Inn pub was a feature bar sitting under the older red sandstone tenements on the right in this photo.

Wellgreen Court. Pollokshaws. Like the missing high rise flats, built during the 1960s presumably, but still here today.

As are these examples.

The new look Shawbridge Street where the eight hi rise blocks and several deck access buildings stood. Taken quite a while to replace them and still plenty of gap sites left empty.

One sight that has not changed since the late 1960s. These two buildings stand at the entrance of Shawbridge Street beside the Round Toll on Pollokshaws Road. My old secondary school lies a mile down through the woods on the right of this photo. Getting buses into the city for work or play I must have passed this district hundreds of times but not visited it properly on foot for decades now. Something old, something new and a pleasant walk down memory avenue for me....ch- ch- changes....a South Side nostalgia tour.













 


  

Planes Into Glasgow Airport. Human Connections.

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A very different post this time as I was asked by a friend to wait in a certain house for a couple of important parcels being delivered while they were otherwise engaged and away. I took a book with me that I thought I would like about spy activity in the present digital/Facebook era but it was pretty dry and highbrow stuff and after 50 pages or so I gave up. Worthy but dull.

As I was sitting out in the garden with a fine view of the flight path for planes flying into Glasgow Airport my attention soon shifted to that and it became a game to see how many I could spot and capture. I did not have long to wait as they glided past every couple of minutes during busy periods in the early afternoon. Two different Emirates Airlines planes here. They also have the world's largest commercial planes in their fleet, the mighty Airbus A380 flying twice daily between Glasgow and Dubai.

A favourite with me. Aer Lingus plane flying to Dublin and Cork. As I've not been on most of these planes it was interesting to find out where they were going afterwards. Traveling the world by armchair and camera. If you can capture the plane number you can find out where they are going so entertaining detective work online.

British Airways Plane. Destinations- London, Canada, USA- all over basically.

Icelandair. Flights to Reykjavik, USA and Canada.

Lufthansa - Germany and New York.

Scottish domestic internal flights to Stornoway, Inverness, Aberdeen, Campbeltown and London on this Beech B200c Super King plane. Same type used by the Scottish Air Ambulance I believe? Both same code/ plane number which is slightly confusing- at least to me. Commercial flight or air ambulance?

Scottish Highlands and Islands destinations on this VikingDHC6 Twin Otter plane purchased from Canada's VikingAir ( British Columbia.) A Scottish public obligation aircraft with the nation's flag on the tail fin. Murky weather conditions here. Flights to Campbeltown, Tiree and Barra.

Thomas Cook. Flying to various popular holiday destinations, Spain, Tenerife, etc.

Easy Jet, London, Amsterdam, etc.

Flybe. Manchester, Belfast, Birmingham- loads of others. Big European airline company.

Loads of different aircraft as well.

Loganair plane. Scottish based company flying 70 different routes to six European countries.

A range of planes with distinctive tartan tail fin markings.

Virgin Airlines. Florida, New York.etc  Big company.

And some semi mysterious private planes. Vista Jet- a Malta HQ based company flying government, corporate, and private individuals worldwide.

Looks like a flybe type aircraft but unmarked- Maybe flying the same type of business clients as Vista Jet.

KLM.  Royal Dutch Airlines. Amsterdam, New York. etc.

Jet2.Com. Cheap flights all over, Italy, The Med, etc.

Another private light aircraft. Maybe UK based private jet charter. High status celebrities, business clients, etc. A good haul for a few hours and it passed the time until both parcels arrived. Job done I left.

Later that night I watched Goodbye Christopher Robin, a recent film based on writer A. A. Milne's difficult relationship with his young son. Considering this is the man who wrote Winnie The Pooh, an eternal children's classic it's a sad, complex tale of parents who might as well have lived on Pluto for all the warmth and interest.or compassion they bestowed on their young son. At least in this film version anyway. Fairly typical of upper middle class parents of that time period they lived mainly detached, separate lives from their offspring, despite the apparent love and empathy evident in the books. Young Christopher was brought up by a nanny- (a star turn by Kelly Macdonald, one of Scotland's finest acting talents.) then packed off to boarding school until he reached adulthood. Due to the fame of the books he had a problematic, unhappy time there and all the real warmth and love within the film appears in his instinctive natural connection with his down to earth nanny, not his aloof, stiff upper lip father or remote disconnected mother- a far better and more attentive influence throughout his life than the emotionless, stilted, self centered, and largely absent parents, according to the film. It reminded me of Enid Blyton, another prolific children's author, who apparently had little interest or time for her own children- or maybe that was just the way it was in middle class households back then when parents led mostly separate lives from their children, if they could afford servants to look after them.
Although my own parents were not touchy feely types or very demonstrative I always knew I was loved, wanted, and cared for and despite growing up in a fairly rough deprived area I've often found warm hearted adults and children in abundance there, and throughout other districts in other cities worldwide and a great sense of fun, empathy and community: especially in the past when people had less possessions within each household to look after and had to depend far more on the kindness and understanding of similarly placed neighbours living around them.

           French Airline. Glasgow to Paris and Canada apparently. Like the colours. Zingy!

 The kind of repressed, stilted emotion, evident throughout the film is a completely alien concept to me, much rarer in working class districts I believe. Generally, they do not hide their hearts or emotions away behind a polished glass case. If they don't like you they'll soon tell you straight up to your face-without necessarily being rude about it- just matter of fact, letting you know where they stand... if they do like you then they let you know that as well. It's far more honest, speedy, and direct. Maybe having more money, personal independence, and as a result, less reliance on the charity of others, is the changing factor in society and communities.

Dams To Darnley. Nitshill. Barrhead Dams. The Magic Kingdom. Where it all Began.

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After the wander round Rouken Glen Park in the last post it was always my intention to add in the Barrhead Dams. The park walk took us out at the golf course which in turn led us out to Stewarton Road, above, running  straight as a dye past Patterton Train Station up to Newton Mearns. As a teenager this was the start of the countryside proper from this end- a rural road through woods and farms-( a farm track used to run to the right from above the cars in the photo through pleasant fields to Nitshill, filled with crab apple trees. Marked on bottom map.) but over the years upmarket housing estates have nibbled into the wonderful apple pie I used to know and love in its entirety. Further housing estates of mid range bought houses have eaten into the Nitshill/Darnley end ....so, although still leafy and green today, it is not the same place I explored as a child and young adult.

Having said that it's still a beautiful landscape. A bit like a stunning actress/actor in her youthful prime starring in major film roles, ( to use a sexist comparison) with a thousand watt natural smile compared to a seasoned veteran, still attractive but fixed tired smile, still treading the boards gamely, but slightly gone to seed, and a different shape, appearing in seaside resort theatres. I did try to think of another comparison but this was the best fit, image wise. Honest.

Dams to Darnley Country Park as it is today. The vegetation has been this long for three decades or more since the farms closed and the cows and sheep no longer keep the grass short. There are several paths that run through the park, still interesting and enjoyable, but you are totally confined to these few trails. Even as an adult, used to rough terrain, I would find it very hard to force my way through this tangled waist high jungle, summer or winter. (In a recent wildlife programme Chris Packham found that an overgrown garden had far less nature within it than one with a variety- ie short grass meadows, wilder bits, open ground.) Certainly in my youth all through the 1960s this area beside the Brock Burn was mainly short grass fields, bowling green length, that you could play football on or have a family picnic and we frequently observed linnets, skylarks, yellowhammers, green finches, goldfinches, long tailed tits, wrens, buzzards, ring ouzels, blackbirds, song thrushes, roe deer, foxes, water voles, coots, moorhens, newts, frogs, tadpoles, kestrels, stoats, and weasels in the surrounding area. They may still be there of course but it's a lot harder to see them in a waist high jungle. Somehow I doubt it. It is several decades since my last ring ouzel or linnet sighting in Scotland. You can see grebes- as the reservoirs now have vegetation mats floating in them so some gains. But overall I would say less wildlife. You used to be able to walk along both close cropped banks of the Brock Burn all the way up to the dams, passing several places where you could jump across this sometimes deep, wide, meandering beautiful stream- now mostly invisible- buried under year round vegetation.

By way of a contrast this is what it used to look like beside the stream and fifty one steps from my back door. (this photo is taken further up in still unspoiled countryside past the dams.) Farms still intact, dairy cows and sheep in the fields, landscape contours molded gracefully with 100 plus years of farming tradition- and a joy to explore as children in the 1960s. Maybe not a joy for the farmer mind you but we were very well behaved. I do not remember anyone ever shouting at us for crossing a field, going through a fence,  or climbing a hill but we moved like ghosts in the landscape anyway- no shouting, hardly any noise made... and I still do that. We never abused the cattle or sheep, didn't try to pet them, or any other animal, didn't set fires or vandalize property. For a start, being the 1960s, we would probably get a good thumping from the farmer if we did, chased by his dogs, followed by a bollocking from our parents or police. This was the era when you still got the cane or leather tawse/ belt at school for simply talking in class and I'd already been cuffed around the head by several adults outside just for being in their way during a back street pitch and toss school. Eager to see what was attracting a crowd of adults behind the shops one day we'd stumbled into an illegal gambling den in old Nitshill, (a former industrial revolution mini hub and ex-coal mining village boasting one of Scotland's deepest pits and worst mining disasters far underground) and I got stood on when the crowd surged back as the coins were tossed up into the air/ falling heads or tails. I stumbled backwards in pain, foot crushed, knocking over two half filled beer cans on the ground and got my ears soundly boxed for my curiosity/ trouble. I also got punched in the face that same year by a lorry driver when I flung a snowball at his vehicle, expecting it to land uneventfully on the metal sides or roof, and it accidentally went straight through his open window, hitting him. Being a twenty something with a nifty turn of speed he immediately stopped then jumped out his cab in hot pursuit.  In those days adults thought nothing of thumping children, no matter how young, to teach them a lesson so we tended to avoid any adult strangers outdoors just on principle.

We may have had the freedom to roam anywhere but discipline and retribution if we stepped out of line could be severe. Adult strangers could and often did chase you and give you a good hiding in public if you behaved badly and it was just accepted- if a serious misdemeanor occurred sometimes your parents would wade in as well so we had good reason to behave. Children that didn't respect the rules were sometimes locked away in institutions and that could well be a steep slope into genuine hell. Schools were also ruled/ controlled by fear... as in the rougher districts, like ours, with large class sizes, pupil anarchy was never far from the surface. Our secondary school sometimes felt like a training ground for prison with bullying, fights and teenage intimidation a way of life for some pupils. The Scottish film  Neds, set on the other side of Pollok ( Corkerhill) was a fairly accurate snapshot of that era and churned up some vivid different memories of council house living in a large estate. The other side of the coin from my own, largely pleasant, experience but I can immediately recognize it's authenticity well enough. The mission statement signs they have nowadays in modern schools, like 'acceptance, tolerance, non aggression, inclusiveness; would be a foreign language back then. Anyone different was a target. If you were clever/ academic it might be wise to hide that fact, homosexual a definite minus, different colour, especially if quiet and introverted, usually picked on, unless streetwise, charismatic and outgoing. Don't know if it's changed much now but school could be very hard at times and nothing to do with the lessons. People you would normally avoid out on the street as they were notorious nutters you were stuck in a building with for years on end. Surviving long enough to escape rather than learning anything useful was the main priority for certain pupils.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neds_(film)

You do not have much of an escape option either today in the Dams to Darnley Country Park. It is isolated and secluded yet not far away from urban districts, very overgrown in places and 'claustrophobically creepy.' ( Anne's words on her first time visit through it) Probably the reason why you do not see many (or any) lone females walking within it. As a country park it's probably one of the least visited, another drawback being the lack of facilities, safe car parking, and toilets. Not something that's ever bothered me personally- I like it empty- and have never felt threatened here... yet... but I can see why it's not more popular with visitors... just a few fishermen and the odd local male, adult loner or teenagers, cycling or walking through it. Occasionally a young couple, able to handle themselves. If you meet anyone on these narrow paths avoidance is not an option. Funnily enough, it gets good customer reviews on trip advisor as I looked it up. (cycling through it is a joy with a long gentle freewheel from high above the Dams down to Nitshill. Indeed the entire network of minor country lanes above the Dams, then stretching above Barrhead and Neilston is cycling heaven.)

It is still beautiful up here, even on a wet day, and in the 1950s and 1960s it was well tended and maintained by a staff of waterworks workers/ grass-cutters etc so much so that my mum pushed me in my pram ( so I was told) on her own from Nitshill to Barrhead right through these dams several times and enjoyed the experience immensely of genuine countryside without any trepidation after an inner city upbringing herself. My Dad was probably working at the time. Yet this was also an era, 1950s-1960s- 1970s,  rife with teenage gang fights, stabbings, and deteriorating housing stock. The difference then was everything was well trimmed, orderly, loads of other visitors around, and the gangs only fought with each other, usually near the schemes, and they still had a strong code towards other age innocent bystanders, especially women. I doubt very much if a lone female pushing a pram through here today would feel as comfortable and safe- something Anne commented on. Even with a dog in tow I think she'd avoid it unless it was a dire wolf. .

She had her dog Snapper and me beside her though so she was fine with it and could fully enjoy her surroundings. It is magical here- even today. The main waterfall. Barrhead Dams. ( another exists hidden deep in the woods few visitors are aware of- a steep flume shoot drop off from the overspill channel draining the various reservoirs falling into the wooded glen below but hard to get near to, unless determined and agile. Reluctantly... she was.... just :)

This is that over-spill channel further upstream, before the eventual falls. During heavy rainfall, as it was on the day we visited, the hidden waterfall roars its power and is fairly impressive but most visitors through the park will never see it. I made sure Anne did but it was a struggle getting close to it from below. Boggy underfoot but spectacular after so much rain.

and these reservoirs complete the picture.

three or five in total depending on how you count them- five separate expanses of water.

Two very large. It would take you a mini walk in itself to complete the hike around the biggest one, seen above, so we didn't attempt it as it was already a long outing.

And that is just the start of the numerous walking/cycling adventures in Renfrewshire with the Fereneze Hills, seen here, The Brownside Braes, and The Gleniffer Braes stretching beyond. more waterfalls there,  and beyond that again- more sub 500 to 1000 foot rugged but easy hill ranges, more small lochs, more deep glens and countless woods stretching away to coastal cliffs, sandy beaches and the sea.. then treasured islands... then finally jagged mountains soaring upwards. In over twenty years of youthful outings- comprising hundreds of separate trips and day walks, all exciting and fresh, we still had new places to discover each time. That's why it's magical here. A fellow teenage escapee and outdoor enthusiast around the same era ( slightly earlier- 1950s) in the north of the city was Scottish comedian Billy Connolly, heading out from a similar deprived council estate, Drumchapel, on self generated cycling and camping trips, experiencing a new environment and lifestyle that would stand him in good stead, away from the restrictive and often soul destructive confines of the city and the scheme. ( I watched a good TV programme about his teenage years last week.) One positive aspect about being on the edge of the city is that country lanes, fields and a different way of life is always nearby for those children that instinctively like that alternative reality and can easily access it on foot or bike.

I didn't consciously escape the gangs in my local area growing up as I was smitten, seduced and captured by the outdoor life long before they were a problem for me but it definitely helped my later teenage self to avoid most of the pitfalls growing up in this neighbourhood as any free time I had I spent it mainly here. Unlike a lot of modern day teenagers I was never bored in the countryside. Always something new to see and discover.  Back in the urban jungle  'a square go' or fist fights I didn't mind, especially if I won, as I could box a bit, even at 8 years of age, taught by my Dad, ex army WWII like most then, as a defense... but also a normal part of growing up back then if you disagreed strongly with someone and it turned to blows, although I was never the instigator in arguments... but once past 15 years of age there was always the chance of a knife being pulled and used on you- Glasgow being the blade capital of Europe at that time and quite a few scheme youngsters carried one. All the local gangs were normally tooled up with weapons of every kind. Now that trend seems to have swung to London in recent years while Glasgow has reduced its knife crime. Up to the early 2000s Glasgow had as many active street gangs as Greater London, a city over eight times its size. Even if you were easy going, quiet and peaceful, as I was, in that environment you had to toughen up or go under so learning to box so early in life was a real asset. A recent news report (August 2019) said that Scotland today has more drug deaths than any other country in Europe- always setting new records it is. Go Caledonia! Top table every time!  Just a pity our football teams can't replicate that winning formula on the pitch in Europe as well. (Austerity and grinding poverty may well explain some of the numbers here- if life is a constant battle of hardship, continuous money worries, and uncertainty it wears people down and I'm sure Scottish suicide rates are equally high.)

Anyway, as the rain was battering down really hard at this point we found a large mature horse chestnut tree and stopped walking to have a seat. In two places under the canopy of leaves the ground was bone dry so we sat there for half an hour to enjoy our lunch. I had chicken breast, boiled eggs, a slab of cheese, and some biscuits. She had some horrible healthy paste with green lumps floating in it that I refused to try.

"It's lovely." she claimed.
"Why do you want to share it with me then? Just chow down and stop offering."
Apart from that it was a very pleasant moment and we stayed silent, drinking in our surroundings with all our senses expanding outwards.... flashes of lightning occasionally observed over the higher ridges above the town of Barrhead but far enough away in the distance to not be a concern as I didn't want to move. Sitting under the tree, semi warm and dry, with the elements putting on a fantastic display of wild energy was very thrilling and didn't need much conversation. I hate grey limp weather and day long drizzle but lightning flashes, loud thunder, big storms, and torrents of water hamming off the ground make my day and I was loving it.
" I'm loving this!" I informed her, animated by the intense weather conditions. "Hold that umbrella a bit higher, I teased Anne. "You might get a buzz off it."
She just ignored me.
" It's very romantic just sitting here." She offered, inching closer, looking like she wanted something from me. 
"Oh yes!?" Like any real man I immediately closed the plastic tub holding my remaining chicken, cheese and eggs.
" No, not that. I've got something here I think you might like."
"Mmmmm, what's that then?"
She smiled mischievously. Much to my disappointment and disgust she then pulled a book out of her bag.
" You should read this - It's brilliant. Perfect holiday escapism.  A complete antidote to this miserable soaking epic you've dragged me on today. (She was smiling when she said this though.) Your turn after all the stuff you've recommended that I read and I've stuck in a drawer."
I had a look at the cover.
 " A New York Times Bestseller." She pointed out. "Me and Belle loved it. Your blog readers will love it. You'll love it. It's a girl's classic."
"I'll be the judge of that." I informed her haughtily. " Can't have you taking over my hard won fan base ... like Charles and Diana on walkabout----a no contest popularity contest.... it's a slippy slope to get on....... for me."

 https://www.penguin.co.uk/books/188/188593/on-the-island/9781405910217.html

( Having now read it she is right. Bugger!!! It is a great read- for male or female- and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Bugger again!!!! A page turning belter. Thank You A.   Mind you I did get my copy for free. She's just ruined me as a man though. It's a girly book and I liked it. Addictive stuff! It's a gateway corridor leading down into froth and fluffyness and I may yet become a secret 'chick lit' novel junkie - binging out on tubs of chocolate ice cream, holding a box of tissues for tears, while reading Fifty Shades, Outlander, and Gone Girl in an empty room- Oh the shame :o(

After the rain eased down we continued our walk and I even managed to find a new trail I had not been on before.

this is it here and its also far more like the fields I used to know walking straight from the house in my teenage years. Open, inviting and you can go anywhere to avoid other people if you wish.

and the view in the opposite direction. This landscape is still pristine up until now. Further down, heading towards Nitshill and Darnley is where it changes into waist high jungle and set trails. Housing has also taken large chunks out of the 1960s/early 1970s apple pie.

If you did not know any difference you would just accept it as normal but this memory map shows just how much has been lost since my youth. The red line is our route, green for woods, blue for water, dark brown for existing pre 1960s estates, ie South Nitshill, Nitshill, Priesthill and Barrhead, all there in my youth. The light brown/ fawn colour i.e Darnley, Parkhouse/Parkholm, Deaconsbank (modern bought houses above Jenny Lind- (named after a popular Swedish opera singer from the 1800s!) and Newton Mearns which has grown  massively, are all more modern housing built during the 1970s, 1980s and 1990s on what was once green fields and farmland that I roamed across as a boy so a huge chunk has been lost. I've crammed in as much 1960s detail as I could remember. Somebody might find it useful/interesting. You can save it and then increase the size for details as there is a lot packed in. It's not to scale just a rough sketch.
Memories of that time.  On the open hillside next to South Nitshill, near the Nia Roo pub, two small coal waste bings used to sit until the early 1960s- to the left? of the Nia Roo pub similar lime waste deposits stung the eyes of children who played on them. Large metal pipes were racked like a large kayak trailer on the open hillside heading down towards the railway tunnel and a small tree/bush lined pond/puddle sat beside the steps running up the hill at the road entrance to South Nitshill- all now gone for many decades.  Behind the Nia Roo, where the industrial estate is now, was an area of waste ground holding a medium sized reservoir/ flooded quarry. (also long since filled in) Tram lines running past the Darnley Tree and old Fire Station up Parkhouse Road towards Barrhead still remained visible in the 1960s although services into the city centre had been updated and replaced by the bus- red SMT service routes numbers 8 and 10. Nitshill itself had a handful of pubs, reduced to just one lone survivor today. You could still clearly make out the ruined buildings of the Darnley Fireclay works and Arden Lime Works with narrow gauge railway/tram lines and sleepers running behind the Darnley hospital to the Reservior/Flooded quarry area and elsewhere. Very hard to see any remains now under the vegetation.

New-ton Mearns. Apt name as this upmarket community keeps growing larger year on year. I wondered at first where all the extra people got the money to buy these more luxurious properties as it's the only houses they seem to build these days until I worked out you could sell up down south and live like a king or queen up here on the edge of the city.

Out the price range of normal working folk with most ex- council houses worth £60,000 to £120,000 pounds in Glasgow. So far they have kept to the east side of the M77 for new apartments which acts as a convenient boundary line but Newton Mearns, for all its size, has very limited access to green spaces, public parks, and walking potential in the local vicinity unless they drive to it. Not much free space for local children to explore on foot without hitting busy roads. I doubt very much if they use Dams to Darnley country park at present for the reasons already stated. It would need to be radically 'gentrified' first.

So it was with some disquiet that I noticed this new project on the road leading from Newton Mearns to the dams. 'Bang goes the neighbourhood.' I thought to myself as the main word I picked out here was 'houses.'  Building houses across on the west side of the M77 in previously open countryside perhaps? The cynic in me also noted ' enhancing the country park'
Just what this slightly ruined but game old actress needs is plastic surgery, an influx of housing, a water-sports centre and a vegan internet cafe. It may work but it will certainly change things yet again into an entirely different animal. To me this area's true beauty, what's left of it, is it's stillness, it's relative inaccessibility and quiet obscurity. I have been all over Scotland on trips and there's certainly no other landscape quite like this one and Greater Renfrewshire as a whole, a varied mix of South Downs, Cotswolds, Dorset, Somerset... the nearest English equivalents I can think of as a match, but without the tourist numbers.

So I hope what's left of it stays quiet and pretty. ( Once out at Nitshill Road we got the East Kilbride bound McGill bus back from the Darnley Tree to Rouken Glen Park, which Anne was really pleased about as it saved her a few extra miles walking. Even with the lightning storm, the rain, and the boggy detour to see the waterfall she still enjoyed her outing. Footsore but happy.... or so she said...

Darnley Mill pond. The end.
And two famous men you may know who started out here in the old mansion house and each went on to great things. One making a quantum leap with chemicals and the other with waterproofing.

https://www.theglasgowstory.com/image/?inum=TGSH00038

I also found this painting gallery of what Pollok and South Glasgow looked like in the early 1800s.
Fascinating stuff. Provides a real glimpse into what the vast Pollok Estate looked like at its height. Shawlands before any houses, just fields and farmland. 1830s- 1960s- 2019 the same area, the same landscapes,  but so very different.
https://www.theglasgowstory.com/advanced-search/?search=99&what=Pollok+Estate