Prestonpans Mural Trail. The Dark Ages. Witchcraft Uncovered.

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Prestonpans has more going for it than just a seafront boardwalk so I thought it deserved a second post in its own right. Originally founded on fishing, coal, sea salt, soap and other industries... in the modern era  it had to find a way to reinvent itself. Like many post industrial towns and villages it went into a decades long decline since the 1960s-1980s and those traditional industries, mines and jobs dried up. Compared to some of the more upmarket neighbouring towns and villages it still retains something of a hard edge to it but that's never bothered me as I like character in a place and Prestonpans has plenty of that as well as many fine historic buildings.

The 15th century Preston Tower and Mercat Cross. This small round windowless cell was the town jail for many years. Space to walk around not an option so a good deterrent to behave. Period gardens surround this tower house and many other old buildings are scattered across this small town from every period giving visitors enough to look at on a day visit.

In recent years wild flower borders have appeared, aided by the extra hours of sunshine the East Coast has always enjoyed as it has half the rainfall of the west. As you can see from this sign Prestonpans is also well known as one of Scotland's first mural towns. I don't know the exact number as they are always adding new ones but it is a lot. This is just a small fraction I've included here.

Let's start with the John Muir tribute mural down by the seafront. He's enjoying a pint of local ale with the Gothenburg Public House and totem pole in the background. Obviously he was in America by this age.

And this is it here- just The Goth to locals. Built in the early 1900s and fabulously decorated inside with elaborately painted ceilings and walls it's well worth a visit. Prestonpans Mural Trail and Arts and Craft info in the pub.
I didn't realise quite how unique this pub chain was until, in the comments section, Russell pointed me in the direction of this link. Thanks R.C.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gothenburg_Public_House_System

And directly across the road in the car park stands this oddity. The Prestoungrange/pans Totem Pole. A real one- from British Columbia.

Hope you can read this here. If not... in 2006 a 32 foot high pole was cut and carved with the assistance of Native American Cowichan individuals with the help of local artists and children, kick starting a Scottish arts and crafts, tapestry and mural splurge in the town that continues to this day.

It's also not too shabby in the late summer/autumn wild flower department.

When I visited here for the first time over a decade ago an excellent series of murals had been created along the sea wall but winter storms have washed them all away save this example. Most of the murals in town celebrate Prestonpans rich heritage. With a thousand year old pedigree it's one of the oldest areas in the UK to have used coal to heat houses- traced right back into prehistory long before the industrial age made 'black gold'  and coal mines popular. Even on beach walks in this district raw coal seams are visible on the surface strata running out to sea.

Dairy mural in the high street. A burn used to flow past here, now long buried underground.

A sea salt mural and soap production.
They also made bricks and earthenware pottery going by the examples on the totem pole. Totem Poles are all around us in modern day Britain. They advertise all the shops at the entrance to most retail parks.

This brown teapot was once a well known product of the area.

World mural off the high street. Prestonpans is twinned with Barga in Italy, hence the golden boot in this image.
A link to why its twinned with Barga here, The Vancouver island connection and other interesting local info.
 http://www.prestoungrange.org/arts-festival/html/murals/murals.html

Near the seafront wall, in an old sandstone locked shelter, one of the most elaborate and probably often overlooked murals is found. The Robert Burns panels celebrating the poets life, stories and songs. You have to peer though the bars to see the images properly but that definitely adds to the atmosphere. Although Burns was Ayrshire through and through he did live in and visit Edinburgh when he was alive and his poems of witches, hobgoblins and strange characters would chime deeply here alright.

One thing you notice travelling around this east coast area- Edinburgh and Lothian- is its very dark past. Almost every village and town has its own tale of hunting and killing witches- mostly innocent women and children that for one reason or another were tortured- named several others- who were also then tortured ruthlessly, burned and twisted  to root out the devil and evil lurking within community's. This happened all across Scotland and Europe during the 16th, 17th and early 18th century, killing thousands of mainly women and children in Scotland alone- millions Europe wide in a great purge. It eventually died out but for some reason it lasted longest here, even after it was discredited in most other places.

The nearby town of North Berwick in the late 1500s.  200 women eventually suspected of witchcraft starting with the obvious weakest link in the chain, a young servant girl tortured and maimed to reveal her secrets. I've read more than a few of these accounts now and to modern eyes it seems less like magic and casting spells and more like a group of evil people bending the local population's tribal instincts to further their own ends, something that continues to the present day around the world in even the most civilized countries. Sometimes the victims only crime was to be outspoken, criticizing the rules of the day, the church, or the ruling classes.. or to be a loner with a black cat or peculiar reclusive habits... or to fall out with a neighbour over a trivial matter... or come from a different village into a new area... or just be unpopular... or get sexually abused by someone higher up the pecking order then conveniently silenced.... take your pick from one hundred different excuses.

And I found myself thinking... why this area rather than the remote and gloomy Highlands? This is after all the sunshine coast, wide skies, huge horizons- full of rich soils, large prosperous farms, productive fields, huge estates, castles and mine owners in an age when the land provided the most wealth in the country. Even today it looks a mainly upmarket region so you would think it would be more enlightened here than the savage north with its warring feudal clan system but apparently not. Maybe they had more to loose here with discontent so kept a tighter noose around the neck of the peasant classes... or manipulated them ruthlessly. At that time miners were close to slaves, destined to a life down the pits with no free will at all and sold to whoever bought the land as just essential tools required to make a profit, whether it be farming, mining or making products- each village tied to a landowner.

 The witch trial. Prestonpans.
According to the local info Prestonpans had its own trial of 81 witches who joined the long procession of others who were tortured, strangled and burned to death along with their cats and sometimes their children on this surprisingly savage coastline. Mostly women. Prestonpans apparently, for its modest size, was particularly good at finding witches and Satan in its midst- better than towns many times larger. Most of these unlucky souls were dragged off to Edinburgh to die within sight of the famous castle with crowds of spectators applauding  A bit like X Factor or various Celebrity Punishment type programmes today. Popular entertainment for the time. All sanctioned by Mary Queen of Scots who apparently signed the Scottish Witchcraft Act in the mid 1500s so no tears should be sniffed over her fate. No wonder it was called the forgotten holocaust. The Forgotten War. And a purge against women in the main. Makes you wonder why? Are they so evil, these creatures of the night? Remember the lesson of the apple after all... Since Lilith first walked the earth no war has lasted longer than the Battle of the Sexes.

A row of miners cottages typical of the period. Summerlee is still a district in modern Prestonpans. It's a popular name as it's also a former steelworks and industrial museum in Coatbridge near Glasgow.

The children of Summerlee. Spot any witches here yet? Even young children and babies can harbour the devil in them.

A tram approaching. It struck me that even today it is very easy for those in power to sway the masses through propaganda and deliberate untruths. History has taught us not a lot and it could be argued that social media and 'smart' technology has made us more stupid than ever. Increasingly self obsessed, an entire world chasing a dubious type of fame, and dis-connected. Easier to sway than ever with a populist message. Souls bought with a handful of trinkets. Think the equivalent of the Witchcraft Trials couldn't happen today? Look around- it's in full swing.

If I put a video on here I usually try and match it with the subject of the post. This is a perfect fit. I first heard this ahead of its time song many years ago and thought of it now as the words are so remarkable and well chosen. This popular Irish folk singer is still on the go, appearing in Glasgow and Edinburgh this winter and he should know the truth of the matter far better than me with his background and worldwide contacts. Picked this particular version as the lyrics are on it written down in full and well worth a look. An important song about a period that's been too long glossed over as its only very recently several memorials and pardons have been issued. Better late than never I suppose.




PS.... Enjoyed the recent series just ended called Back in Time for the Factory- about a group of South Wales workers in a recreated garment factory during the 1960s, 1970s and 1980s. All the Back In Time series like Back in Time for Dinner and Back in Time for the Weekend have been fascinating slices of recent social history, revealing many of the things folk of my age lived through but didn't necessarily connect- like the invention of fridge freezers and supermarkets allowing ordinary housewives the freedom to go out to work for the first time. Doh! I always wondered why I suddenly became a latchkey kid at 14 and came home every night to an empty house and a hungry dog.

John Muir Way. Seton Sands.Cockenzie. Prestonpans. Part One.

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Seton Sands is a destination I've never arrived at so when I noticed the number 26 bus from Edinburgh city centre went to there as it's final stop from Clermiston on the Seven Hills trip with Anne I decided there and then it was a bus worth taking. This is Seton Sands beach here, popular with holiday makers....a large caravan site and a sandy beach are the main, if not the only attractions available to arrivals. The caravan park was doing reasonable business when I got off the bus as the terminus is right beside the front reception to this site.  It's around 18km or ten miles from the centre of Edinburgh to Seton Sands and it takes around an hour to get there as it goes via Portobello and through several other coastal towns with dozens of stops on the way. Add another two buses and just over two hours to reach Edinburgh from Glasgow's western outskirts and you have a 5 to 6 hour round trip depending on traffic and the inevitable roadworks. I didn't fancy doing it after the clocks changed as it was a fair distance away- a full 12 hour day- and the Perth trip at Christmas proved to me that it was very easy to miss the last bus and be stuck in the dark in sub zero temperatures in an unfamiliar location. Staying in hotels or pubs are very definitely a last resort for me and an option to be avoided if at all possible. Half the Perth trip had been in the dark, and even wrapped up it was pretty cold as soon as the sun departed and the wind increased.

So this made perfect sense. Plenty of daylight to play with, still fairly warm despite a strong breeze, and numerous buses on all three routes. I have noticed over the last six years the Glasgow to Edinburgh bus is usually packed with day trippers now, even though it runs every fifteen minutes. Many have pre-booked tickets which have priority over spur of the moment passengers like me and it just seems to get busier and busier every year but the chances of actually talking to anyone on it sitting next to you are very slim indeed as most people prefer being on their phones for company these days instead of striking up a casual conversation. An observation from a veteran people watcher who, now I know this,  can pass the time quite happily by taking a good book along and entering my own internal world as well. (I can be fairly chatty, one to one, with strangers if I discover common ground to stand on, although I'm something of a loner by natural inclination, enjoying my own company and not always that comfortable in a group setting,depending on the group, and never a social butterfly at parties in any way, but in the past, travelling around solo did throw up the occasional opportunities to meet new like minded outdoor walking friends.
 I've met many people like this over the decades, usually males (strictly platonic relationships I have to add :o) but it did give solo folk like me an opportunity to meet new people you may get along with and discover a shared interest. That appears to be increasingly a thing of the past, sadly. Not even a 'Brief Encounter'....it's something of a tragedy for the human race I believe... and my personal bug bear- i.e. smart phones...albeit for purely selfish reasons in my case which increasingly keep us locked within mental cages.... as in think of all the films of chance encounters on public transport or in the street, good and bad, that might never happen now in today's society including the one I've picked for this post set in 1980s Dublin. I suppose there's always Tinder or silicone based attractions now for young people. Annoyingly, I've always relied on face to face encounters with my unsuspecting victims ...er potential weekend walking companions, to home in like a guided missile and get acquainted so I'm out of step with modern society. A relic of the past that actually prefers to talk to people without gadgets as a facilitator.
In the above photo you can just see the white tower blocks of Leith and Edinburgh in the distance from Seton Sands.

A zoom of the same area- Leith Docks and the white structure of the new Forth Road Bridge.
My walk for today was along the coast from Seton Sands, then Cockenzie and Port Seton, then Prestonpans, then Musselburgh- all coastal towns on the John Muir Trail. Around 14km of coastline walking with inland sections added. The father of American conservation was born in nearby Dunbar and spent his childhood in this district.
I've done most of the JMW in day sections before it had a grand title and this stretch is a real highlight. It's now a multi day 134 mile, 215km route taking around 10 days from Dunbar to Helensburgh. So basically up the east coast to Edinburgh then across central Scotland towards Glasgow then ending at the western seaboard.

Loads of sandy beaches, little coves, interesting towns every few km, and fairly scenic harbours on this side.

Views out to sea are not too shabby either with frequent ships passing up and down the wide Firth of Forth, distant hills and a range of other coastal towns over in Fife. This looks like Kirkcaldy and The Lomond Hills here.

The rocky island of Inchkeith with its wartime bunkers and fortified gun towers. This island stronghold has had numerous uses in the past.

A female rowing team in Cockenzie and Port Seton Harbour. These twin towns/villages have a long history of sharing their resources- so much so that it is regarded as a one unit community in the town name but boasting two small harbours. As it was choppy out to sea they flitted between these two safe shelters for their training circuit only braving the larger waves beyond the harbour wall to reach the other calm oasis and circle round there before rowing back again.
One of the best things about a walk like this is that you never know what you might see on it. Great variety of subjects.

Although late September there were still flowers around and some to these villages/small towns are habitually in the running for Britain in Bloom or Best Small Town awards as far as wild flowers are concerned. Clematis above.

A wild flower border- probably deliberately planted in long strips to encourage birds, butterflies and bees whose numbers have collapsed by 30 to 70 percent during the last 30 years in many cases. Really nice to see and a cracking display of autumn colour.

Blue cornflowers along the coast.

Edinburgh getting closer. Arthur's Seat here but still a zoom needed for clarity.

Back in the other direction it's North Berwick Law, a volcanic plug summit with the jaw bones of a Moby Dick showing white near the top. The impressive sandstone gates of a grand estate lying below and a long high wall worthy of King Kong closing it off to shield it from prying eyes. The Scottish historical novelist Nigel Tranter lived in this area and knew it very well, being a keen walker all along this eastern coastline of wide seascapes, blue skies, and vast flat horizons. He certainly improved Scottish history and landscape lessons for me and brought to life centuries old kings, queens and commoners with great skill and flair making a potentially dull subject  thrilling and interesting every time I picked one of his books up.

This part of the East Coast has a unique charm which I liked instantly from my first visit decades ago. Looking across Gosford Bay in the direction of Gullane. Another small town, even further east. Most of the towns along this coast earned their living years ago from fishing, making sea salt before cheap imports and from coal mines. Until recently Cockenzie and Port Seton was the site of a large coal fired power station, with buildings and high chimney stack that dominated the area. On this visit it's now gone with an empty flat concrete platform where it stood.

Looking back towards the Garleton Hills and The Hopetoun Monument, a pleasant little range of several summits and a fine half day walk. Most of the range is hidden here and grassy summits with fine views and a path network existing out of shot are the norm rather than the forest slopes coating this side.

A decorative mosaic on the trail.

A view of the Royal Mile and Castle Hill in Edinburgh, showing the rising nature of the old town. Below the highest spire sits two large round bottle kilns near the beach, informing me this is Portobello as I visited them on a previous trip.

By the time I reached Prestonpans the seafront walkway was partly submerged by the rising tide and a strengthening wind. I've only been here twice but I was very taken with it on previous trips, mainly due to this brilliant walkway and some other highlights. Any place with pan or salt in the title usually made salt in former times by burning coal under large pans filled with seawater then scraping off the dried residue. It was much sought after until cheaper imports arrived from hotter countries overseas where salt occurred naturally or could be sun produced without coal.

The walkway in Prestonpans with a rising tide coming in. It was quite exciting but safe enough and I stayed dry for most of it, dodging any waves by timing my movements.

Some sections were trickier than others but still great fun.

This was the hardest section- completely submerged walkway but only to knee deep level so I took my socks off and danced across it wearing bare boots, dodging between all the incoming larger waves and spray. Reminded me of the lines to Leonard Cohen's famous song Suzanne- the verse about Jesus walking on the water. It did feel like that here, although slightly lower in my case- wading through the water- but still elated and mystical... my very own hidden causeway to follow- crannog style. I could have avoided this section altogether by picking the main street but that would have been cheating-  John Muir would expect nothing less than a good bold effort from me.

There's been some very good films on TV recently and some of the best have had little hype or fanfare so it's even more enjoyable when they turn out to be real gems.
This is one.
Sing Street. An Irish musical. Funny- great songs- good story and acting throughout. If it's on again its worth seeing. Oh, and good coastal scenery in this as well which is another reason why I picked it.
Another great TV series Ireland has produced is Red Rock. Onto its third season now and the standard is still very high. Well worth catching from the start about two feuding families in a seaside town near Dublin. Great acting, great cast- fantastic believable storylines- easily as good as The  Bodyguard and Killing Eve but less well known.

Six Parks. Four Seasons. An Epic Bike Tour Compilation.

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One of my favourite bike tours in my home area is a circular trip around the west end of Glasgow, then crossing the River Clyde over to the south side districts, then through Paisley, then Renfrew- then back across the River Clyde via the Renfrew Ferry to the West End again. Although passing through urban areas it is a very green route normally and can be varied at will to include new districts off the template, using quiet urban streets, or cycle tracks, or a variety of bridges and tunnels, to create almost endless variety off the basic circular tour route. A fast head down cyclist could probably do the complete circle in a couple of hours but I like to dawdle along, take photos, explore places of interest and just enjoy myself so 3 to 5 hours for me normally. It's one bike tour I never tire of in any season so although I did it again last week here's a compilation over several years and different seasons taken on the route.

As it follows the River Clyde some of the way there's always the potential to see something new or interesting. Small warship here and a new boat I haven't seen before. Scotstoun district.

Although Scotstoun was once full of shipyards backing onto the river, still has factory units, one shipyard and works lining South Street, this elevated cycle track following an old railway line provides a green pleasant ribbon with good views at times over this tenement dotted, industrial west end district. This leads in turn into Victoria Park, full of flower beds, an interesting pond, woods and meadows that you can cycle through at low speed, with care for other park visitors.

The back woods. Victoria Park in early summer.

Swans near the pond.

Glasgow Harbour walkway/cycle track. If  sunny I often get off the bike and walk along this section just to enjoy it more and make it last longer. A beautiful highlight on the route.

Boats rides offered to visitors at Partick. Glasgow Harbour in distance, behind.

Power boat taking tourists up and down the Clyde with a barge collecting half submerged planks and blown over trees after winter storms. This is early spring with Govan district on the far bank taken from the Riverside Museum. Obviously hitting a submerged tree floating down the river at power boat speed might give passengers more of a thrill ride than they were expecting, not to mention expensive boat and engine repairs.

University of Glasgow spire with student flats then the TS Queen Mary steamer. A recent addition to Glasgow, undergoing extensive refurbishment and hopefully a future extra tourist attraction for the city and its shipbuilding past. At one time a fifth of all the world's ships started life on the River Clyde. Railway engines and additional track components were another leading export to every country at that time.

These days it's mainly war ships under government contracts built on the Clyde and at other UK yards.

Or boats collecting scrap metal from the UK's 4th largest city ( after London, Birmingham, and Leeds)

A different scarp metal jetty near Yoker/Renfrew.

Same one -different metal mountain and autumn colours. Rose Bay Willow Herb ( Fireweed in USA) just going to seed here sending drifts of white cotton into the air. A few years ago I was taking a photo of a 28 floor skyscraper when I noticed something unusual in the zoom near the top of the building- it looked like tiny alien space ships catching the sunlight, almost transparent and rotating wildly, 28 floors up, zipping past the windows.  After a moment of stunned disbelief I realized with a jolt it was large clumps of these seeds in different shapes and numbers floating past. Thousands of them after five minutes observation. I'd seen them at low levels of course but up until then I never realized just how high they could go. When the railroads first spread across North America these light as air seeds followed the railway lines, either inside the carriages themselves as floating, barely noticed, passengers or given extra lift by the movements of the passing trains. Who knows how high or how far they drift into the winds that disperse them around the planet. If they get high enough to invade the jet stream they could cross entire oceans and land a continent away in a few days. Even a humble seed is a genuine wonder.

Once over Bells Bridge at Finnieston and across the river to the south side views open up from minor city drumlins towards the Kilpartrick Hills and Campsie Fells to the North. A winter view from Hillington Heights here to the Campsies, another potential alternative offshoot district variation on the circular bike tour taking in Elder Park, Govan Church and it's collection of Viking Stones (bike lock required here) Cardonald Park, and Craigton Cemetery plus Moss Heights Flats.(for the views ).

Bellahouston Park is another highlight and my favourite halfway round lunch stop. A hilltop, a park bench, some food, great panoramas over Mosspark and Pollok and an unbroken 'sea of trees' contained within a large city yet stretching all the way to the far horizon and a view that always astounds, even now. How can such a large expanse of trees, yet so few visible urban buildings exist within a built up area? Impossibly true. The nearby Pollok Country Park provides that view and the answer, the largest public park and mature expanse of unbroken woodlands within the city limits, combined with several golf courses. A child's dream world for which I had a dream trio to explore it with, growing up. My very own Moonrise Kingdom experience.

A small part of that view over Pollok Park woodlands here. In full autumn colours. These woods are large enough on the minor back trails to get perplexed in. For a short time anyway. Delightfully lost in my case. I love that rare feeling of not knowing exactly where you are in a landscape, especially within a city I know so well. Any large forest area is the original maze and this was ours.

Sherbrooke. One of the handful of castles visited on the bike tour and the area I often visited during my childhood as I had relations nearby. Other castles dot this quiet affluent district and it remains a favourite location on the bike tour. As my relations had three females, girls my own age, it was always an extra special treat to go off exploring with them as most of my same age school friends were male. Girls were a different breed entirely. Strange and exotic creatures. They still are.

In winter, offering free food from my favourite lunch bench, I'm usually joined by avian friends who provide good photographic interest in return.

Many spectacular sunsets I've seen from here.

Even stepping in and out of my own personal sunbeam/ other worlds portal on certain occasions. And why not? I am a human rainbow after all. A true nature child.

A daffodil reflection in Spring.

or a shadow and shade survivor.

Leverndale Tower. The psychiatric hospital in Pollok I mentioned in the Edinburgh posts. Set within its own wooded grounds and boasting the usual Victorian Gothic architecture this place drew me in as soon as I could ride a bike to here. Any place that's mysterious and unknown- looking like this- in a land of similar sized tenements and streets is bound to attract teenage attention- but it was the actual grounds more than what went on inside here that attracted my interest at first. Although only the original tower remains untouched of the extensive complex that stood here it's still a powerful landmark for miles around and a cycle track/ walkway I frequent at least once a year on my circular bike tour travels through the grounds beside the River Cart. Still beautiful- still mysterious.
( Although advances in treatment for mental health problems have improved greatly since the bad old days a recent programme I watched a few days ago. 'Kids in Crisis- Panorama.' highlighted that under-funding- increased demand for services- and lack of staff in certain specialized areas means that many vulnerable children are either going undetected or fail to get any help when they need it. Teenage years are tricky anyway at the best of times but the current technology and social media revolution/growth must surely heighten any latent paranoia, feelings of low self worth, and increase addictive or narcissistic tendencies to a unprecedented degree. I can feel that effect to a lesser degree myself sometimes with this blog as in ..." Why didn't they like that post? Why so few comments for that one? Why so many for that one and how can I repeat it? (The cynically manipulative dopamine rush of any gambling product to pull you in.)  or...Have I pissed them off somehow with something I've said unintentionally???"  It's very easy to get sucked into cyberland... as if that's all that matters....then gradually stop living in the real world... and spend an inordinate amount of time in front of a screen instead.

                                                                A view over Pollok
 Luckily, I'm a grown up and remember an age before social media arrived so I can understand what's happening and squash those feelings flat before they gain control over me but for anyone of teenage years being judged, sentenced, condemned by online trial, applauded, deliberately deluded, criticized or praised daily...this often is their entire life, biggest reward system, and notion of self worth in society. There's a good reason why the people that develop all these social media products often restrict or ban entirely their use among there own children as they know it's highly addictive and can be damaging.
For example....On a recent bus ride a normal family group I noticed in a passing park were walking slowly through beautiful flowerbeds on either side yet everyone- mum, dad, four children, including two aged around 7 to 10 were all glued to separate screens intently- hardly a glance away from it's controlling influence.. Each locked into their own small world yet moving together as a fugue state collective unit. They might as well have stayed indoors for all the attention they paid to their surroundings or each other. Turned into zombies by the all important screen, even outdoors. Only granny, walking behind, was fully human- no phone visible... just enjoying the park for its own sake- and not as a backdrop casual selfie snap either as an afterthought - and as such completely isolated by the rest of the group who walked along slowly as one organism, staring down into their hands the whole time. A different species to them. A brief snapshot of modern life glimpsed from a bus by a person equally addicted to landscape photography and posting online every week so I am aware of a certain hypocrisy in that viewpoint :) I rarely use a mobile phone or any gadgets outside though unless someone calls me first for a brief conversation and I'm always very observant and interested in my surroundings at all times. You can feel very alone in a crowd of people however- even more than on a solo walk, especially in smart phone land where ignoring people you are with in favour of online interests, popularity checks, and number of hits is the new normal and an addictive drug to literally die for in some cases. Is the asylum now within the community at large? Or is the community the real asylum to escape from? Recent long bus trips and casual observations have made me wonder about that.)

                                                               A view over Nitshill.
Given where I could have grown up- Easterhouse- ( It was a walk round the asylum grounds there not very far from the house they were offered that changed my parents minds instantly) so you could say an asylum delivered my destiny. Like a standing stone in the landscape. A portal to jump through. And jump they did- back on the bus to decline the offer to move. The second council house they were offered a few months later was here. Pollok and Nitshill. My childhood and teenage years paradise home. Also a fixture on the modern bike tour circle.
Easterhouse- flat- not as many trees and parks-swampy fields containing little of special interest- high gang violence.
 Pollok- equally large in size and population and gang violence but full of rolling wooded small hills, farms, fields of cattle, ponds, dams, and old castles to explore. Thank you God and Bishoploch Mental Institution- the asylum that truly saved my life. ( it's now a local nature reserve beside Easterhouse but one of the few I've never visited, funnily enough.)

Barshaw Park in Paisley. A winter view.

Barshaw Park again. Summer pond reflections.

The Renfew Ferry crossing back over the River Clyde then up towards Anniesland and home. New apartment block constructed here just recently. And this is it.

And after all that exercise- my reward. Pork chop and egg omelette for dinner. Yum yum. The end.