Dunbar Harbours

Not to be outdone by the castle, Dunbar has two harbours both picturesque in their own way. And I can't leave the subject of Dunbar without saying a few lines (did I really say a few?) about these landmarks. Until the 16th century, Dunbar's first harbour was the natural inlet at the renowned beauty spot of Belhaven. It was then that a stone harbour was constructed a little to the east of the castle. The Old Harbour, or Cromwell Harbour, has changed very little since that time. Why Cromwell Harbour? In 1650 Oliver Cromwell repaired the east pier to make it safe for English ships who had the task of supplying his army. Embedded in the quay are two cannons now serving as bollards for securing boats. The partial remains of a stone stair, Johnny Cope's Stair, can also be seen. This poor unfortunate general landed with his army at Dunbar in 1745 to engage Bonnie Prince Charlie at Prestonpans. His defeat was ignominious. A major improvement to the harbour came in 1761 with the addition
of a coal wharf or hirst. One of the more impressive features of Cromwell Harbour is the Fishermen's Monument or Barometer. Dedicated to the local fishermen for their invaluable contribution to the wealth of the town, it was erected in 1856 by a kindly local benefactor.
For centuries fishing was one of Dunbar's main industries. Every year hundreds of fishing boats would come for the summer herring fishing off the Dunbar coast. Catches were gutted and packed in barrels layered with brine, and shipped off to Ireland, Europe and the West Indies. Throughout the winter months the boats fished for white fish such as cod and whiting and shellfish including crabs and lobsters.
When herring fishing took off with a vengeance in the early part of the19th century, the old Cromwell Harbour was no longer big enough to cope. It was time for a new harbour. To assist them in this venture, Dunbar Town Council received £4,500 from the Fishery Board on the understanding that they matched this sum. Now picture the scene ...... On a stormy day in October, members of the Council and the appointed chief engineer met with fishermen on the castle rock. With the wind blowing through their hair and rain chilling them to the very bone, they put their heads together and discussed the most suitable place for their new harbour entrance. Only fifteen years after the opening of this new harbour, designed by David Stevenson, members of the Council were again lobbying Parliament for more funding. A storm had caused serious damage to the north wall.
By the end of the 19th century changes had taken place, potatoes replacing salt and herring as the main export from Dunbar Harbour. Most of the catch was now carried to home markets by the railway. And while local fishermen still used smaller open boats during the winter, larger decked fifies were now a common sight. Earlier driftnet fishing had been replaced, not without  more than a little controversy, by trawling. Boats were propelled by steam power which in turn was replaced by engines at the turn of the 20th century.

 Building the new harbour, the Victoria Harbour, had not been without its problems. A sea wall was constructed from Lammer Island to the ruined castle. A bridge was erected to allow access to the Battery, which had a small hospital within its grounds. And more spectacularly, a causeway was blasted through the old castle rock to allow access into the new harbour. Lifeboat stations came, went, and came again, and today fishing still plays a major part in the economy of Dunbar. The harbours are lovely places to wander around when the weather is fine, not so good when the weather draws in. Two harbours, a castle and the sea - this is as good as chocolate!!

Dunbar Castle

Overlooking the harbour at Dunbar are the remains of what was once one of Scotland's mightiest castles. Now in a dangerous and very precarious state, public access has not been allowed since part of the ruins collapsed into the sea in 1993. Only seabirds sit upon the ancient walls, raising their young, swooping down from their mighty perch to dive among the waves  before returning to their nests in their own particular corner of Scottish history.

As with many of Scotland's castles, a long and varied history has attached itself to Dunbar Castle. Roman excursions into this proud north-of-the-border country saw the Votanich tribe build defences on this rocky outcrop. A Northumbrian stronghold in 650AD, it later became a Pictish fortress until it was captured by a Scottish army under Kenneth MacAlpin in 849AD. It is believed that the first stone castle was constructed in the 1070s by the Earl of Dunbar, attacked by the English in 1214, somewhat unsuccessfully, and again in 1296 by Edward I who had better luck than the previous onslaught. Dunbar Castle fell out of favour after offering a safe haven to Edward II following the Battle of Bannockburn in 1314. Refortified in 1333, perhaps its most famous moment came in 1338 when Agnes Randolph of Dunbar - or Black Agnes - made an historic defence of the castle during a sustained five month siege by the English.

Still awake? I know you all love my history lessons, so let me continue. The poor old castle was rebuilt in the early 1400s before repelling yet another Englsh siege in 1435, again suffering severe damage at their hands in 1448. All these dates, and not a red rose or a box of chocs in sight! Dunbar Castle was once more put back together in 1515, just in time for the English to throw themselves at it in 1548. You can just picture them sat back waiting for the fortifications to go up before popping out of their tents to pull it all down again. Bit like a child with a box of lego. On 24th April 1567 the tragic figure of Mary Queen of Scots was brought to Dunbar Castle following her abduction by the Earl of Bothwell. The couple later returned to the castle after their marriage on May 15th. When Mary surrendered and abdicated, the Scottish Parliament ordered the destruction of the castle, fearing that its influence was so strong its possession destabilised the balance of power in Scotland.

Poor Dunbar Castle - loved, hated, scourge of the English, a thorn in the side of the Scots, pulled down, built up, pulled down again. Its final indignity came in 1844 with the construction of the Victoria Harbour. A new entrance for Dunbar's harbours was blasted through the end of the rock on which this proud castle stood. Even progress, it would seem, had little respect for this landmark of Scottish history. Once upon a time its body of buildings measured in excess of 165 feet from east to west, and in places up to 210 feet from north to south. The south battery is situated on a detached perpendicular rock, 72 feet high, only accessible on one side. The interior of the citadel was octagonal in shape. Around the middle of the fortress part of a wall can still be seen, through which there is a gateway. It is thought this led to the principal apartments. Contained within the north west section of the ruins is an apartment twelve feet square, virtually inaccessible, which tradition dictates was the apartment of Mary Queen of Scots. A natural cavern lies to the noth-east of the castle front, which supposedly formed part of the dungeons where prisoners were confined.  

If you all feel like a lie down in a darkened room now, then feel free. But I love history, love castles, love the sea. And when they all come together as they frequently do in Scotland, there is no stopping me.

Tantallon Castle

Tantallon Castle, high on the rocks looking out across the Firth of Forth towards the stunning sea-bird colony on Bass Rock, is both dramatic and impressive. The cries of seagulls as they swoop down fill the air, the waves crashing on the rocks far below echo around the battlements as you climb ever higher and view the magnificent scenery from one of the most breathtaking viewpoints along this section of the coast.
The very walls of Tantallon themselves hold within these ruins tales of a checkered past, history unfolding, changing with the tides, stretching as far back as the sea itself.
Tantallon is very much steeped in Scotland's heritage. Its origins date back to 1358 and the ennoblement of William, first Earl of Douglas. A split within the family of the Douglas Earls of Angus later left the castle under the control of the "Red Douglases" who found themselves sporadically in conflict with the "Black Douglas" side of the family - bit like a modern day computer game! And as if this were not enough, they constantly found themselves in conflict with the Scottish crown when relations with the English grew too close for comfort or their ambitions became too rampant. The castle suffered little damage when beseiged by James IV in 1491, an event carried out in reprisal for the fifth Earl of Angus agreeing to betray him to HenryVII of England. Relations were later repaired, but the castle again found itself under seige in 1528. James V was seeking revenge on his stepfather, Archibald Douglas 6th Earl of Angus, but once again the castle held strong against the royal forces. A year later James acquired the castle by clever negotiation, strengthening the defences to withstand the artillery of the day.
Bored yet? Well, I am going to continue the history lesson anyway. Quite enjoying it in fact. Not wanting to let the grass grow under its feet, Tantallon returned to the Douglas family in 1543, and once more set about betraying Scotland to its neighbour, allowing Henry VIII's ambassador to use it as a base during his "rough wooing" of Mary Queen of Scots.   
In 1650 the troops of Oliver Cromwell were busy conquering Scotland. Tantallon was occupied at this time by a small group of moss-troopers - bandits or guerillas depending on your allegiance or viewpoint. Said to be far more effective than all the regular troops opposing Cromwell across Scotland, they set to work destroying Cromwell's communication network across south-east Scotland. The inevitable retaliation followed, and in 1651 a force of 3,000, including almost all of Cromwell's artillery in Scotland, eventually succeeded in rooting out a garrison of less than one hundred men. The castle was left much as you see it today.
Okay, history lesson over for now. So what of the castle itself? Magnificent in its day - pretty magnificent even now - the castle is but a shadow of its former self. A twelve foot thick curtain wall, the large circular Douglas Tower with its six storeys of accommodation for the Douglas family, the five storey high East Tower and the Mid Tower also five storeys high and the best preserved of all the towers, can all be seen in various ruinous states. Remains of the hall block, the castle well, the outer ward with its dovecot, an artillery ravelin, all bear witness to the ravages of Oliver Cromwell. During its heyday the outer ward would have been home to all the accommodation and service buildings necessary for the efficient day to day running of Tantallon. And at the end of the headland is a sea gate which was designed to allow the castle to be supplied by sea in times of trouble. Protected by natural cliffs on three sides and a deep ditch cut through the rock on the fourth, it should have been virtually impregnable. But Cromwell obviously knew better.
If you visit Tantallon, and it is definitely worth a visit, climb the battlements, feel the wind in your hair, listen to the pounding of the waves and the songs of seabirds ducking and diving along the cliff face. Close your eyes and picture life as it was hundreds of years ago, the sounds of castle life, battle cries echoing around the walls, artillery vying with the restless sea for domination of Tantallon. And as with all Scottish castles of any note, Tantallon has its very own ghost, a "courtly figure dressed in a ruff" who wanders the ruins. A member of the Douglas family reluctant to leave ....... who knows. But wander he does, keeping watch over Tantallon for all eternity. But he seems happy to share his castle with all who pass through. So seek out this castle on the clifftop and soak up some good old Scottish history. 



Portobello

The sun was shining brightly
It was such a lovely day
I thought I'd find the seaside
Down Portobello way.

Portobello, Edinburgh's seaside resort, three miles from the city centre and situated along the coast of the Firth of Forth, is where the beach is at for the folk of the country's capital. Very much a "bucket and spade" beach for the kids, it is also popular with dog walkers, kite flyers and leisure sailors, with its long promenade, small shops, cafes, pubs and ice-cream sellers. In 1795 a certain Mr John Cairns erected bathing machines on the beach, and Portobello quickly replaced Leith Sands as the favoured resort for the middle classes of Edinburgh. It continued to prosper during the latter part of the 19th century when as well as its mineral springs and hot and cold sea water baths, the growth of the railways and tramways transported working class holiday makers to this wonderful spot on the coast. The pleasure pier, funfair and whole host of seaside entertainment kept the crowds coming, only waning in popularity with the advent of package tours following World War II. In fact Portobello boasted the only pleasure pier in Scotland until it was demolished in 1917. Measuring 1250 feet in length it served as a stop for pleasure steamers. Punch and Judy were also firm favourites with visitors. Donkey and pony rides, seaside concert parties and summer variety shows were incredibly popular in the 1930s, entertainment taking place either on the beach or in a tented theatre. At the turn of the 19th century Portobello Sands were used for drill practice by the Edinburgh Light Horse Brigade who once had Walter Scott himself as their quartermaster. Spectators packed the sand dunes when a visit to Scotland by King George IV, organised by Scott, included a review of troops and Highlanders on the beach. And not to be outdone by other ports along the Forth, Portobello had become the haunt of the many smugglers and seamen that sailed the waters by the middle of the 18th century.
Of equal importance is the fact that the main part of Portobello has been designated an outstanding conservation area and boasts a very fine Architecture Heritage Trail. 1800-1830 saw Portobello a fashionable Regency Spa, many fine Georgian streets and crescents built during this period as wealthy families realised this was indeed an attractive place in which to live all year round. The Trail takes you past many buildings of both historical and architectural interest. The Police Station, described as a "jolly piece of Scottish Baronial architecture with pepper pot turrets" was completed in 1877, originally as the second town hall. Number 3 Bridge Street - once two cottages, 3 and 5 - is reputed to be the birthplace of famous music hall entertainer Sir Harry Lauder, achieving worldwide fame with his portrayal of a mean, canny, daft Scot. The last two surviving bottle kilns in Scotland can be seen on the site of the old harbour. The Tower, an octagon built in 1785 of stone and Portobello brick, was constructed as a summerhouse or "folly" for Shrub Mount. Medieval stone carvings, column capitals and 17th century architectural fragments thought to have originated from the Meerkat Cross in Edinburgh, the University buildings in Edinburgh's South Bridge, and St Andrew's Cathedral are all contained within the walls. The Coade Stone Pillars form the focal point of Portobello Community Garden. Originally standing in the garden of Argyle House in Hope Lane, these early 19th century pillars were restored and erected in the new Community Garden thanks to a Heritage Lottery Grant along with support from Edinburgh City Council and Portobello Community Council. The designs on the two smaller pillars are identical to those adorning the chimneys of Dalmeny House in South Queensferry. Abercorn Park, St Mark's Episcopal Church, Brighton Park, Georgian streets and villas, they can all be seen as you wander around Portobello. So much to see .... too much to mention.
Portobello - beautiful in the summer, amazing sunsets, stunning light reflected on the water as the sun rises over North Berwick. And in winter? Somewhat melancholy, a touch of Victorian melodrama as the wind whips through the rooftops, but nonetheless an atmospheric place for a gentle stroll wrapped up against the weather. Just a short bus ride from Edinburgh city centre, Portobello beckons whatever the time of year. If you haven't been, then go. If you have been, then go again. Build a sand castle, paddle in the sea, slurp on an ice-cream, enjoy a cuppa in a cafe, sit back and allow yourself to be transported back to the days of the bathing machine and the modesty of the swimming costumes. Imagine the sights, the sounds ...... then drift back into the 21st century and with a wry smile toddle off home.    



Fisherrow Harbour, Musselburgh

Fishing has been present in Musselburgh since early Roman times, although the present harbour at Fisherrow was not built until the 18th century, sitting close to the original site of an early Roman "harbour". In existence since 1592, the harbour at Musselburgh was then little more than a landing stage for fishing boats and small coastal craft. A wooden pier was added in 1626, but the town was spared the machinations of Oliver Cromwell when during his 1650 campaign in Scotland he searched for a port in the Forth for his supply ships. Fisherrow was rejected, Cromwell deciding the waters were too shallow. His attentions were turned on Dunbar instead.

Throughout the 17th and 18th centuries Fisherrow Harbour was regarded as being far from suitable for foreign trade, therefore escaping the necessity of having its own customs post and all the unwanted attention from the excisemen this would undoubtedly have incurred. Despite this, its fishing income was at times augmented by the import of Norwegian timber, the export of salt and coal, a thriving trade with Holland ...... and more than the odd dabbling with smugglers. Fisherrow was the landing place for countless fleets stretching from Dunbar to Fife, their catch taken to Edinburgh for sale by the Fisherrow wives. In 1791 Fisherrow had seven home fishing boats and forty nine fishermen. By 1839 the fleet numbered twenty eight, with one hundred and forty fishermen averaging hauls of between eighteen and twenty two tons. 

The early 19th century saw Musselburgh Town Council construct a new harbour in the mouth of the River Esk. Silting very quickly became a serious problem and this was just as quickly abandoned. It was subsequently decided to return to Fisherrow Harbour itself, improving it in stages. The present west pier was built in stone around 1850. It is at this time that the Fisherrow fishermen began to follow the herring, bigger boats sailing north to Caithness whilst others headed south to the East Anglian ports. The dwindling of herring stocks in the 1930s saw boats fishing instead for white fish, prawns and sprats ..... and the arrival of large ocean trawlers further hastened the decline of Fisherrow from the 1950s.

Other interesting information about Fisherrow and Musselburgh ...... the first loom for weaving fishing nets was invented here. The community at Fisherrow was close-knit, religion playing an important part in their lives. There was a local Fishwives Choir. The end of the fishing season was marked every September by a "Box Walk", local fishermen and fishwives marching in procession through the streets. Funds were handed out to the needy, and a thanksgiving service was held on the Sunday. Games and dancing were held in the grounds of Pinkie House. Fisherrow fishwives were formidable characters, a familiar sight selling their fish on the streets of Edinburgh clad in their stripped aprons. It was also their job to help bait the lines.

Today Fisherrow Harbour is little more than a haven for pleasure boats and the sea cadets training craft. Many sit here when the weather is good, enjoying the sunshine. The open water is at times dotted with sailing craft, local clubs racing around brightly coloured buoys or just basking in an afternoon on the water. Occasionally the sound of jetskis pierce the silence, children trail their ice-creams around the stone pier, dogs bound into the water. And then you have those whose sanity comes seriously into question. The afternoon of my recent visit saw the young gentlemen of the town partake of a little pier dipping ........ I think that's what they were calling it. Obviously a popular pastime, the idea is to launch oneself from the stone pier into the cold water, this activity taking place in the mouth of the harbour. If you forget your trunks, do it without. What's a bare bottom among friends! Water a trifle chilly? Channel swimmers use grease to keep warm. No grease? Try nutella. Not the same effect, but I guess they can always lick it off when they surface.

Fisherrow Harbour may no longer see boats coming home laden with fish, the stone walls no longer adorned with nets drying in the sun. What does remain, however, is the character of Fisherrow and pride in its fishing heritage. Many of the old fishermen's houses have been demolished, replaced by modern flats and houses. But the spirit of Fisherrow remains. Memories cannot be pulled down, cannot be erased from history. For as long as there is a harbour, images of the fleet setting sail will stay forever, captured in time, carried on every wave that breaks upon the beach.   

                      

Sleepless Nights .........

Your eyelids are heavy, your legs feel like lead, if you yawn any wider you are in danger of swallowing yourself. You drag yourself into bed, your head hits the pillow and ......... nothing!! Sleep has been creeping up on you all evening, filling your head with thoughts of peaceful slumbers, the land of nod, a world of happy dreams, drifting into a peaceful repose, all the worries of the day packed into an imaginery box until the morning. So where does sleep go? Why does it wrap you in its magical spell, lie you down ...... and then vanish. Sleep, are you sadistic? Do you take delight in teasing, tormenting, gently kissing the eyes closed then taping them open like some form of ancient torture? You have plenty of time to rest during the day, so why oh why do you have to disappear at night? Are you ill? On holiday? Fed up and need a change? Then how about training up another sleep to take your place. Just a thought .....
Have you noticed how loud the ticking of the clock becomes when you cannot sleep, how fast the seconds seem to go yet how slow the night seems to pass. Shadows cast by streetlights slip
through gaps in the curtain, friendly as they touch the ceiling yet turning into some kind of macabre, long-fingered night demon as tired eyes send bizarre messages to the brain. You switch on the telly. Programmes that send you to sleep during the day, boring the pants off you, seem to have the opposite effect at night. So get out a book. Tired eyes blur the words, tired hands constantly drop the book to the floor. You lose your place, lose your train of thought. Crosswords. No, the only crosswords are those you aim at sleep and his continuing absence. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder.
Yes, I am fond of sleep ....... or would be if I could find some. A drink, a nice, comforting, hot drink, just what the doctor ordered. You reach for the kettle .... but no. Just imagine, enjoying a late night cuppa, falling into bed, the eyes close,
you've hit the jackpot and then the inevitable happens. You need the toilet, need to relieve yourself when all you really want is relief from lack of sleep. Up you get, knickers down, cold toilet seat, and you are back where you started!!
So is there an answer. So many suggestions from so many people. Sleeping pills, lavender, milky drink, self-hypnosis, sounds of the sea ...... the list is endless. Am beginning to think that one gets used to the zombie-like state continued sleep deprivation creates, a brain stuffed with cotton wool, a day spent on automatic pilot. But I have a cunning plan. I am going to find sleep. He is out there somewhere, he cannot hide for ever. So I am going to build a sleep detector. There is already one for smoke, one for carbon monoxide, one for metal ........ so why not one for sleep. Can't be that difficult. After all, I'm not a stupid person. And they say lack of sleep drives you crazy. Not me, oh no, not me!!!!!
 



Dirleton Castle

Since the 13th century Dirleton Catle has graced the skyline of the village of Dirleton, perched on its hill, commanding views of the countryside for miles around. For the first four hundred years of its existence the castle saw three families take up residence in this magnificent structure - the de Vauxes, the Haliburtons and the Ruthvens. Each family set their own mark on the castle, growing in size and stature as the years rolled by.
The oldest part of the castle dates back to the early days of the 13th century and the de Vaux family. The impressive cluster of towers, amongst which is the imposing keep at the south-west corner, is some of the oldest surviving castle architecture in Scotland. The Wars of Independence with England erupted in 1296, the castle suffering badly during this time, and it was subsequently captured in 1298 on the specific orders of the English king, Edward I. Ownership of the castle changed hands several times before it found a new lord, John Haliburton, in 1356. The much war-torn and badly battered castle was rebuilt, and a new residential tower and
great hall were constructed along the east side of the courtyard. Although now largely ruined, the surviving cavernous storage vaults, family chapel and grim pit-prison convey a wonderful, if not somewhat sombre, impression of the life of a lord and his family in the later Middle Ages.
Around 1510 Dirleton Castle changed hands once again, now under the auspices of the Ruthven family. Although they carried out substantial improvements, this was not their main residence. Gardens were laid out to the west. A new residential building, the Ruthven Lodging, was constructed, and the fine circular dovecot is also attributed to them. The present bowling green may well have been a parterre, or formal garden. The downfall of the Ruthven family saw the castle all but abandoned as a noble residence, while the siege by Oliver Cromwell's soldiers in 1650 virtually rendered it militarily unserviceable. In the 1660s the estate was purchased by the Nisbets, building a new mansion house,
Archerfield, nearby. But the ancient castle, still looking down
on the village, was not forgotten. These graceful
ruins, built by noble families and destroyed by so many events from history, painted an eye-catching picture within their newly created landscape. Both the castle and the gardens are today popular attractions in their own right.
Dating from the late 19th and early 20th century,
the delightful gardens within the castle grounds are as big a draw as the castle itself. The formal Victorian west garden, complete with its foliage,
plants and pelargoniums, was faithfully recreated in 1993. The truly beautiful north garden dates from the "Arts and Crafts" movement of the 1920s. Fragrant and fascinating, it is home to the largest herbaceous border in the world and is overlooked by a castellated 19th century gazebo. Trees that pepper the grounds, vying with the castle on its lofty perch, include sycamore, redwood, beech, cedar, monkey puzzle and cypress.
If you visit Dirleton Castle, take a few moments to wander around the lovely village. And why not drop into the Castle Inn for a drink and a bite to eat. It is well worth it.

St Andrew Square

 Whether you walk through, sit awhile, or take time out for a cup of coffee and a chat, St Andrew Square is probably one of the most prestigious locations in Edinburgh New Town. Standing at the east end of George Street, in what was once the hub of the city's financial world, it now lies in an area more characteriesed by the many pubs, restaurants and designer shops that have sprung up around it in more recent years. The square itself, a delightful green space in the heart of the city, has a public garden housing the forty-one foot tall Melville Monument, a towering Roman column built in memory of Henry Dundas, 1st Viscount Melville. Dundas was a lawyer and a politician who had the rather inglorious distinction of being the last person in the United Kingdom to be impeached. Member of Parliament for Midlothian, he held a number of junior ministerial posts before rising to member of the Cabinet in 1791 as Secretary of State for the Home Department. War Secretary from 1794 - 1801, he was given a peerage in 1802, becoming Viscount Melville. Despite being impeached on a charge of the misappropriation of public money,
he was acquitted but never held public office again. The monument
was designed by architect William Burn in 1821, the statue of
Dundas added to the top in 1828 by sculptor Robert Forrest.
The construction of St Andrew Square began in 1772, the first part of James Craig's New Town. Within only six years of its completion the Square became one of the most fashionable, and the most desirable, residential areas in Edinburgh. The close of the 19th century, however, saw it evolve into the city's commercial centre.
The east end of the public garden is dominated by the imposing Dundas Mansion, acquired by the Royal Bank of Scotland as its head office in 1825. Now one of the bank's main branches, this wonderful building is fronted by a semi-circular driveway and gated garden. A statue of John Hope, 4th Earl of Hopetoun stands proudly on the lawn, an inscription by Sir Walter Scott on its plinth. Next door is the magnificent British Linen Bank building with its more than impressive facade of neo-classical figures standing atop Corinthian columns. Built in 1851-52 by architect David Bryce, it now belongs to the Bank of Scotland after it acquired the British Linen Bank in 1969.
The City of Edinburgh recently invested £2.6 million in the Square, partnered by Scottish Enterprise Edinburgh and Lothian, and the Gardens reopened in 2008 boasting two new entrance gates, curved footpaths linking these new entrances, mood lighting, a reflective pool, small cafe pavilion .... and a bizarre sculpture of a lion. Repairs have also been carried out to the Melville Monument. This is a lovely place to spend an hour or so, especially when the sun makes an appearance. Exhibitions are held here, events pop up every now and then, and Christmas sees a beautiful nativity scene housed in one corner of the garden. And St Andrew Square will be an interchange for the controversial Edinburgh tramworks ......... unless you know better!
 

Craner versus Craner

 A beautiful Sunday morning in the centre of Edinburgh, blue skies, wispy clouds, people soaking up the sun, relaxing after a hard week at work. And then ........ road closures, diversions, and this time the culprit was not the seemingly endless tramworks. No, this time the frustration of relatively minor inconveniences in comparison to the tiresome tram fiasco was caused by two enormous cranes appearing at two different points in the city centre like an alien invasion from an outdated science fiction film (slight exaggeration, maybe, but fun nonetheless).
Princes Street, enter centre stage crane number one, its huge arm stretching into the wild blue yonder, outstripping the clock tower of the Balmoral Hotel. Protruding into the magnificent Edinburgh skyline it swung into action, playing its own special role in the construction of the new city centre hotel, a role only a crane of such eminent proportions can fulfill. People walked passed, glanced in its direction for a moment or two, then continued on their way ......  

St Andrew Square, enter stage right crane number two, equally as high but a little thicker - in width that it, not intelligence. And this player in the construction game had a name - Bernard Hunter. Bernard the crane, lifting, swinging, landing with precision, hoisting materials from lorry to roof of Harvey Nicols. People sat in St Andrew Square enjoying the weather and a cup of coffee looked up momentarily and returned to their conversations. What a wonderful sight for a Sunday!! Yes, I love cranes, big cranes, little cranes, tall cranes, short cranes ...... all cranes!! Am I mad? Maybe. Sad? Probably. Happy? Oh definitely. Two cranes in one morning, free entertainment, sunshine. Would that I were a crane driver. Just think of the possibilities. Here come the men in white coats to take me away .........

Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art

What do you do on a wet and windy afternoon in Edinburgh, when the rain is clattering down and the streets disappearing under torrents of water? Well, you could visit a museum or a gallery ....... the Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art, maybe. Shared between two buildings, Modern One is a rather imposing neo-classical building which at one time was the John Watson's School, an institute for fatherless children. It is in this magnificent building that works from the Gallery's own collection, plus those loaned to the Gallery, are exhibited. Here you can see French and Russian art from the early days of the 20th century along with cubist paintings and superb examples of expressionist and modern British art. Highlights undoubtedly include paintings by Picasso and Matisse. And it also has a truly outstanding collection of international post-war work featuring art by Francis Bacon, Andy Warhol, David Hockney and Lucien Freud, more recent works including those by Damien Hurst, Tracey Emin and Antony Gormley. Finally, this Gallery holds the most important and extensive collection of modern Scottish art. It is here that you can see "Death to Death and Other Small Tales", not suitable for the younger visitor, which explores how artists have engaged with the human form, and features nudity and imagery of an explicit nature.
Modern Two, another wonderful building probably even more so when the sun makes an appearance, was originally built as the Dean Orphan Hospital. This section of the Gallery is home to an ever-changing programme of world-class exhibitions and displays drawn from their permanent collection. One exhibit that never changes is a fascinating recreation of Eduard Paolozzi's studio. Renowned as one of the most versatile of Britain's post-war sculptors, he frequently changed the styles and media in which he worked.
His interests were varied and he drew inspiration from almost every aspect of the world around him, as this recreation clearly demonstrates. It reflects the way in which he worked - desks for reading and working with paper, a large central table for modelling and working with plaster casts, shelves packed full of reference books, and a bunk for resting. This was one of my favourite parts of the Gallery, along with Paolozzi's 7.3 metre tall sculpture, Vulcan, which dominates the cafe. Commissioned in 1999 Vulcan, the Roman god of fire and blacksmith to the gods, stretches from the ground floor to the ceiling of the first floor, swinging his hammer and marching across the Great Hall. Half-man, half-machine, he is a monument to the modern age, a sculpture of epic proportions, and a favourite with both big kids and small kids alike. Modern Two also houses the Gallery's substantial library and archive along with constantly changing displays in the Gabrielle Keller library.
Despite the relentless rain, I made the somewhat ridiculous decision to squelch my way around the extensive parkland that surrounds both Galleries. Here you can discover works by such eminent sculptors as Henry Moore, Hamilton Finlay, Rachel Whiteread and Richard Long. The lawn stretching out in front of Modern One was re-landscaped as recently as 2002. Designed by one Charles Jencks, this dramatic landform comprises a stepped, serpentine mound cleverly reflected in three crescent-shaped pools of water.
Yes ...... more water!

Now, I am definitely no connoisseur of modern art. I found the Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art bizarre, baffling, weird, mind-blowing, frequently exercising my powers of observation and understanding. Piss flowers, lopsided ladies, male genitalia of various shapes and sizes - what's this all about, what kind of a mind creates such works of art, for works of art they are! I stood back, looking at some of the exhibits, and thought "I could do that." But could I? Would my distorted portraits, my alien-influened sculptures, look as good? Would they make me a living? Definitely not. However, the Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art is a must-see venue regardless of whether modern and contemporary art is your cup of tea or not. In fact you may well find your cup of tea among the exhibits in years to come. But all joking apart, I would encourage you to call in. We all have different tastes, all appreciate different things. After all, how boring and mundane would this world be if we all loved the same things .........