Edinburgh

 

Roam and Stroll make these videos and they are well worth watching 

Recently I came across these videos of bus rides through Edinburgh.  These are interesting to me and useful for those visiting the great historic city.  Though much of the scenery is of those parts no visitor will ever meet.

Since I moved away a few things have changed though the overall look remains the same.  That is while the main streets and ancient buildings have not moved many new buildings, vast estates, some good some bad, and huge industrial areas have arisen.  As the bus moves around slowly we can take in the sights, at least those in front of us, and get a glimpse of the surroundings.  

I found them rather exciting these bus journeys, this is because each one, bar those in the south side which I rarely ventured near, bring back memories and as we tend to do, I remember only the good things, forgetting for the moment the bad ones. 

This journey on the number 19 bus, which still covers some of the route it used to cover, begins at home, that is Granton Square.  Naturally we see nothing of the square as we drive out of it!

Granton is what the family considered our home.

This is because when dad was 5 years old his mum moved the family down here to a tenement not far from the square.  She had dumped granddad, he had lost his 3rd job in 7 years through the drink, and she had thrown him out.   They had both been widowed and he was about 50 something when they met and three children were produced  in a flat just of Dalry Road.  A better flat than the one in Granton maybe but we take what we can afford.  The tenement flat contained two rooms, a bedroom and a large family room as it would be called today. In between the two was a toilet, no bath, and apart from a coal fire in both rooms, and at the front window a cooker on one side, a sink on the other, there was nothing else to be seen.  A typical layout for the time, and better than a great many elsewhere.   

John, my dad's brother, lived in that flat until he died in 1964.  It is still standing though somewhat modernised today.

The memories this bus offered me begins as we leave the square.  On the left we see the small gothic inspired school building that dad attended.  We cannot see from the bus, but there are two doors, one for GIRLS and one for BOYS, a feature from the days when we were educated properly.  So many advances in education today but we miss out allowing girls and boys to learn among their own sex, at least two days a week ought to be given for this, as too often it appears to me education is leaning towards females and 'working class' boys suffer somewhat.

Dad was a milkman in those days, and remained one until 1954 at least when we had moved from Granton to a Miller built flat some distance away.  At that time he found work closer to home in the wire works at Granton.  This house move did not stop us being sent back to Granton to attend school, though we were placed into a 1932 modern, light filled primary, a marvel for the time, rather than dad's old one. 

Just up the road there is a turning to the right, this was the road leading to the long gone 'United Wire Works.'  Dad worked there until he died in 1969, having been moved into the Lab after an injury at the weaving put a bit of wire into his knee resulting in several days in the Western General Hospital.  He was never happy about this, considering himself a 'working man,' and the Lab a place for 'better people than himself.'  He got on well there and took to doing night shift mostly for the extra money.

Passing further up the road we notice the whitewashed one level building on the corner, the Anchor Bar.'  This, with Granton and a housing estate of 15,000 working people, was the only public house around.  It was a bit rough.  A second was built in the early 50's, but this too was insufficient for the population.  Of course most took the bus up town on Friday's and Saturday's, and most avoided the Anchor.  It looks closed, and while the cost of living and Covid have affected such places it may well be that an incident did not help bring customers to the hostelry.  

A few years ago a man involved in drug selling, and we are talking big gangsters here, was approached from behind by a man with a gun. He shot the gangster dead, having come through from Glasgow to do the deed.  Several Glasgow men have done similar in the past.  He was quickly identified and now is serving time in a prison somewhere far from the Anchor.

What a daft way of life.

The bus then goes all round the houses, doing what a proper 'service' transport ought to do, serve the people's needs.  Thatcher, remember her, deregulated the buses in an effort to make money and removed the service element to such an extent that throughout the UK people were trapped in their homes or forced to obtain a car to get around.  Since then things have improved but not everywhere.  Basic transport needs being met are an economic aid in a country, not a burden.  Edinburgh appears to have continued to supply good bus services, though always someone will complain.  

I enjoyed this part of the route as I have never been here before!  This was considered rough when I grew up, so we rarely went near it!  It looks OK to me now, but I wonder if having sold most of the council houses this has had an effect here?  I noticed several churches, possibly all in use, and that shows how rough it once was!

Past Crewe Toll where Ferranti once had a long red brick building, now replaced by fancy modern building belonging to BAE Systems and others, who took over large parts of the company when it collapsed in 1993.  

Further up the road we pass the mighty building that replace another red brick establishment, the Western General Hospital.  Now this vast enterprise features some of Scotland's best doctors, and resident doctors here are paid better, without strikes, than in England.

On up Orchard Brae, brae meaning hill in Scots, we reach Queensferry Road.  This road takes you to the Queens Ferry, across the Firth of Forth.  The ferries, of various types down the years carried many across the Firth until189 when the Forth Bridge opened up for traffic.  The most famous railway bridge in the world.  

Of course we are headed in the other direction!

We cross a bridge also, the Dean Bridge, with the Water of Leith running far below it.  This cannot be seen from our camera but on the bridge are metal spikes, put there to stop people jumping over to their deaths.  A favourite spot for this on many occasions, and it is a long way down.

This leads to the West End where we can be blinded by the sun, a novelty in Edinburgh, and almost miss the castle high above on the rock.  St John's Episcopal Church has stood on the corner since 1818.  Episcopal means it is an Anglican Church in Scotland, but they do not wish to call themselves 'The Church of England,' here as people react!  Behind that we just about glimpse the Parish Church of St Cuthbert, a Church of Scotland building.  There was a church here they say in the 7th century, when Bede was writing in Northumbria, and Irish monks, called Scots, were establishing churches everywhere.  It was recorded in 1128 when David I gave it to Holyrood Abbey.  The present building arose in 1894.  I was in there once, around 1968 for an evening service.  The sides men wore tails, and it appeared just to posh for me.  Who knows what it is like now?

We move from the West End to the East End, with the gardens on our right, the castle high above, and a variety of shops I canny afford on the left.  Originally these were all houses for the wealthy escaping Edinburgh's old town, now they are shops, clubs, hotels, and all overpriced.  The art galleries to the right and with the North British Hotel (now called something else) ahead telling us it is 20 minutes to 9 in the morning, hence the empty streets, and lying to us as the clock is always three minutes fast.  This is because below the hotel lies Waverley Station and with a flight of very wind swept steps to hurtle down you do not wish to be late for that train.    

The view is magnificent mind! 

As we come to a close we stare ahead to the Nelson Monument.  This upturned telescope was built in his memory and difficult to see has a ball on a pole at the top of it.  Originally this was so that sailors at Leith docks could get out their telescopes, look up to the ball on the pole, which would fall down exactly a 0ne pm each day.  Marvellous idea as all sailors required an exact time to enable their navigation workings.  Naturally with Edinburgh being covered by the haar (the cloud that descends over the city) most days, it was not always successful.  Hence the introduction of the One O 'Clock Gun!  Today, if you are passing, at that hour the gun will be fired, ready or not, and sailors in the port of Leith would hear, if not see the gun being fired.  Only on Sunday does it not go off.

Journey is over, time to change buses, or go into that gleaming new shopping centre for things you do not need.  Or find a café and stuff breakfast down you while watching other rush to work. 

Smoke Gets in my Eyes.

The windows being open all sorts of aroma's pass inside. Tonight I am enduring the burning of what I believe may be garden rubbish, the first of the leaves falling from the autumnal trees or that kind of garden leftovers they don't think about turning into compost.  This happens annually, however I fail to see where it comes from, it arrives from the west but that way lies town centre and no-one to burn leaves.  Tis mystery all.
The smell of small fires in the open long after the fire has been ditched and left to burn out has been with me for many years.  I can remember the strong aroma when an uncle was clearing leaves in his garden way back when, and more so when on the rare occasions we went under the bridge taking the railway from Granton harbour into town and stalked Granton Beach, a beach which some refer to as 'Wardie Beach' but we never did.  
Here there was always at least one charcoaled set of embers to be found, the bouquet hanging in the still air, well, air as still as possible on that beach.  The beach was not great, many stones and too little sand, this hemmed in by the high ban, now removed, carrying the railway by.  The condition was not supreme, it was always somewhat dingy, this being the result of the Firth of Forth being a heavily used stretch of water in those days far off.  
In the far distance jutting out into the gray sea lies Newhaven Harbour, then full of fishing boats right up until the 1960's when they began to be replaced with rich men's playthings.  That is all that remains today.  On both sides of the Forth lay fishing harbours full of men risking their lives night after night, the 'silver darlings' have long disappeared and the cod and haddock dwindling but most boats today are smaller craft looking for the Lobster pots dumped out at sea the night before.  
At the time the picture was taken early in the 20th century the Royal Navy based half the Fleet at Rosyth and when my dad was growing up he could see such a collection of blue gray ships heading out to sea, Battle-cruisers, Cruisers, frigates, Destroyers and smaller ships abounding following them out.  Add to this the steamers from all over the world landing a variety of goods at Granton as opposed to the larger harbour the other side of Newhaven at Leith.  
The condition of the water may not always have been that clean as far as I can see but people spent time there and made the most of it.  Today, with the railway removed the area is cleaner, grass is planted in the rear, the space open and the sea cleaner as less ships pass by, a few large tankers and many small pleasure craft.  
The harbour behind has changed with one half being filled in and now crowned with large glass fronted blocks of flats with magnificent views and prices to match.  No more steam trains chugging past, fewer foul mouthed sailors, and one time warehouse or marine offices and lighthouses now turned into dwellings.  
However I bet people still build fires from driftwood, attempt to cook potatoes, and burn their fingers while eating them leaving the hazy smoke and its aroma to drift across the old breakwater and the new residences with the same freedom it has always enjoyed.

I A'Door Me

After months of procrastination I managed to make a start - again - on fixing the slats on the cupboard door.  This time armed with cheap wood glue I slotted the slats and gunked the ends only to find the last attempt left the gap a wee bit too wide and they fit but only just.  Still I put my handyman skills to the proof and remembered again why I failed technical subjects at school all those long years away. 
After many rude words I managed to fit the top half so as though it looks fixed.  Anyone who opens their eyes, or I fear opens the door, will soon discover a weakness or two.  I expect next time I touch the door to be back at the starting gate. 

This little job held me back long enough to prevent me reaching the shops when they were quiet.  So this afternoon I walked among the living dead around Sainsburys wondering why I bothered.  I only had to shoot two customers and one was driving a black van when he attempted to run me over. I lacked suitable pity for him at the time.  What is it about supermarkets that make people girn so badly?  Normally I am in early so I miss the crowds but the rest of the day in such a place is a wonderful way to practice patience.  

When I first graced this world the family lived in a tenement in Granton.  For the first three years of my life, little of which I recall, we lived a short walk up the road from the harbour pictured here. This photo was taken in 1958 it says and I can recall going down there with dad to look at this rig sitting in the far side of the harbour.  I had no idea what it was for until today when I found this picture on facebook and discovered it was used to search for coal under the Forth.  It is different from what memory recalls so this may be a different rig or my memory may falter but the era is about right.  
The view north over the Forth is fantastic, one of the great memories of Edinburgh.  To the north lies the Forth and Fife opposite, the view to the south reveal the Pentland hills and for a major city the escape to the countryside is  remarkably easy.  How I missed that in London!  
The building on the right was at first a Hotel but for most of the 20th century, and possibly still, it was a land ship for the Royal Navy.  The large ships in the harbour also stopped in a similar spot to the left of the picture, a harbour soon afterwards filled in for industrial buildings.  To the left there was a small school house that my dad attended.  Two doors, one marked 'Girls' and at the other end 'Boys' and quite rightly too, but last time I was in that area the only possibly building had boarding around it advertising the company I could not determine if the school still existed.  At the entrance the road to the left led along to the promenade where relaxation and sea watching took place.  To the right we could eventually reach Leith.  A high embankment carried a railway into town, a railway that closed around 1962, and the embankment has long since gone also.  Behind the embankment lay a small beach and on any occasion I wandered down there I was struck by the smell of fire.  It was the done thing then when at the seaside to gather driftwood and build a fire, even in summer, the smell lingered forever afterwards.  The road on either side near the camera rises upwards as you will realise Edinburgh slopes down to the sea, sometimes we fall in. 

A more recent picture nicked ungraciously from facebook shows a more modern image.  The view has been devastated by the ugly new blocks of flats that take so much money from young trendy people, and to the left there are many more such buildings.  Those with a clear view up or down the Firth of Forth will have a fantastic sight before their eyes, not too sure what the others will see mind. 
The ships have long gone, even Leith harbour appears to be struggling with such reconstruction these days, and at Granton I think only rich folks yachts can be found today.  There have long been such yachts but the actual Yacht Club has sold its premises and moved elsewhere or died.  
As always some things remain, the toilet block stands as always, the buses halt here before trudging back across Edinburgh, and people still climb the stairs grumbling at the effort.  
Is this an improvement?  Is it progress?  Is it the passage of time?
Life goes on and we cannot stop it.  

Here in the soft south I spend a lot of time looking at old pictures and comparing them with the reality today.  On the local facebook page old pics are offered and people reminisce about their childhood and youth, always claiming "it was better then."   No it wasn't really, even if the fifties were better in many ways for kids in the end the 'good old days' are always in our minds.
1958 was good in many ways for me but there were fears and problems also.  For a start we had school and that was not my favourite place.  The fears and problems of childhood disappear and we forget the bad things that caused us worry then, the fears can be worse now of course, but
we were lucky to be living in an era of peace and even prosperity, a time such as my folks had never known before.  We moved into a three bedroom place, bathroom and kitchen, dad got a better job, and we got a TV.  How the world changed then!      
There are good memories in the past but in three quarters of the world war was raging and millions died.  The 'Good old days' are always in our heads, nowhere else.

Gas

This pretty boring picture I took some years ago through a wire fence.  It shows one of the platforms at Granton Gas Works. These premises opened in 1902 and my aunt claims hr dad was driving the shunting engine there. This is likely as he was named as a Steam Engine Driver in the 1891 census.  By 1901 he was a 'general labourer,' possibly because of his drink habit.  If only we knew more about him!  This platform was a workers only halt into  the works  I wonder if a special train was in operation to bring them in on time? Certainly they booked in nearby and crossed the line via a bridge to enjoy a day shoveling coal.  The red brick used to such good effect was typical of a building of the day.  These days factories are so boring and functional but the Victorians built such quality even into factories.  Progress has led to plastic buildings and lack of character while in days of your the buildings had bags of character, although long hours and low wages were common. 


Gas was made from the coal, about 200,000 tones a year at Granton and this was heated by furnace underneath the 'retorts' with temperatures of around 1500 degrees. Gas was drawn off and cooled, cleaned of impurities such as oil and tar by ammoniacal solution. Afterwards the gas was washed by water leaving an ammoniacal liquor, this was made into sulphate of ammonia and used as fertiliser.  Further treatment removed lots of stuff I cannot spell and the gas completed the journey into the large gasholders from where it traveled to serve the city.  I well remember the gas sometimes containing an 'air pocket' and having to turn it off and starting again.  Gas taps in the science labs at school (science? aye right!) would cause the teachers to cry out when the air pocket was noticed.  An explosion could have destroyed the school, if only!  The coal waste became coke, and the smaller dross was turned into briquettes.  Nothing was wasted by this business.  The sixties however saw an end to coal gas and a massive transformation of cooking and other appliances as 'Natural Gas' was introduced.  The final end of gas at Granton came in 1987 and the buildings were soon headed for destruction. The rail lines possibly used by granddad have long gone and only the station building, now refurbished remains.  Granddad also went in 1917, he collapsed on his way home from the pub, aged 71.  Offices and housing now fill the redeveloped space once the home of rail, coke and coal, and nothing else remains bar the iron standings of the gas holder.  Even that is threatened.  


Progress takes away memories.  From our window, and much of Edinburgh, the gas holders stood out as we looked north. The sounds of the works, there were other works nearby plus the docks, would float through the dark silent evening air. One other factory nearby, 'The United Wire Works,' for whom my father spent several years slaving away, has also gone.  'Google Maps' show just a bricked up 'Works Entrance' and a large despoiled building and surroundings now.  Even the rough 'Anchor Bar' has gone!  Although there are those that claim that indeed is progress!  How strange that a building that stood for almost ninety years, and which was part of my childhood simply by it existing, has now gone, as indeed has sound 'floating on the night air,' the traffic drowns it out. The new developments may indeed be grand in the long term but it is not my Edinburgh any more.  The world moves on and our 'lives are only in our memory, the no longer exist.

Granton History