The Bings of West Lothian

This is a recent photo that I took of that part of the County of West Lothian that I can see from the western  side of Edinburgh, where I have lived most of my life. However, I was born in West Lothian and as a child I can remember passing these monuments to the industrial history of the region when, as a family, we made visits to my Father's relations in Linlithgow. My memories of these man made hills are that they were once a bright deep orange. However, much of that colour has diminished with the ravages of time, the growing of vegetation and the general wear and tear caused by the weather and the atmosphere, much the same as has happened to your writer.

These Bings were the result of the spoil from the mining and extracting of oil from the shale rock and this region had some of the first commercial shale oil refineries in the world. If you are interested in such industrial history, apart from the Bings themselves, it is still possible to find other remains of that once great business, although most have been reclaimed by nature or built over with industrial estates. Many years ago, there were attempts to have these 'blots on the landscape' removed, particularity after the Aberfan disaster in Wales when a coal spoil heap collapsed on a school and houses in the village. Then it was discovered that the shale spoil could be used in road building but despite this, the Bings are still there and I would assume there would be an outcry if a decision was made to remove them. They remain, as a monument to the men and women who worked, often in terrible conditions, to provide the beginnings of a world wide industry on which we all now depend.

A little research has confirmed that they will still be there long after I have gone. They evidently are sites of significant importance to the flora and fauna of the area and the UK. The ecology and biodiversity of Bings means that they offer refuge for rare species of both animals and plants and as the Bings only exist in West Lothian, this gives a unique significance to the area. They are also the location for some of the UK's scarce lichen and moss species and one provides a site for a SWT nature reserve. Add the recreation value for walkers, with dogs or not and motorcyclists and you have an interesting, important and in a strange way, beautiful landscape.

I am determined to climb and explore some of the 19 sites, taking my camera with me to record every aspect of these unique and interesting remains from our industrial past. Forget Munro Bagging, I shall not rest until I have bagged all 19 Bings.

Bing Bagging, I like the sound of that!

Until the next time.....

Hammer - Has Risen Again

In my youth, I was a serious film fan, making many visits to the cinemas of Edinburgh, many (most) now no longer existing. This was in the days before the rise of the multiplex, when each cinema had it's own character and it was within their darkened voids that I saw many a great film and many not so great. It was also during this time that I was able to enjoy the vistas of the cinema widescreens and the epics that were usually produced in the various formats. CinemaScope, VistaVision, Todd-AO, Panavision and Cinerama and all the rest became a great interest to me but as I can see your eyes glazing over, I shall keep my widescreen enthusiasm for another blog.

Visits to the cinema or 'the pictures' are now rare and are usually to Filmhouse, Edinburgh's art and repertory cinema and home of the Edinburgh International Film Festival. So it was, on one of those rare visits, that I took my wife on a St. Valentine Day visit to the pictures. Now the multiplex offered much choice and I could have treated the love of my life to movies such as Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, War Horse, The Descendants, The Vow or even The Muppets. However, being the old romantic that I am, the treat was a ghost story, The Woman in Black. I can thoroughly recommend this film which returns to the simply idea of telling a tale while attempting to frighten you out of your wits. There is nothing original in the techniques used to scare you in the film but you are drawn into this little world and it's terrible secrets and Daniel Radcliffe produces a fine performance as the young widower. The cinema was full of many young girls, claiming to be twelve or over and I feared that this would spoil the film for me. To my surprise, I was reminded of the reason why there is no better way of enjoying a film and that is the shared experience of laughter or tears or screams, the latter being the most prevalent at this showing. I was reminded of a late night showing, many years ago, of Hammer Films 'Dracula'. When leaving the cinema, there was a buzz from the audience that had shared the exciting ending of that film. Mention of Hammer is interesting because The Woman in Black is a Hammer film. Of course it is not the same company. The name and the library of films, still owned by Hammer, are being carried forward by an American group using the name of Exclusive, the original company of that name, being the original distributor of the early Hammer films.
Many distributors were involved with Hammer when the latter was at their peak and those distributors  will still have the rights to many of the best Hammer films. However, I wish the new Hammer Films and the Exclusive Media Group much success and hope to see the Hammer name on many future productions.

While the youngsters added to the enjoyment of the film, I was also reminded why I seldom sit in the darkness of a cinema watching the light and shadows flow across a white screen. Two old ladies behind us talk throughout the film as if they were watching the tele in their living room. I realise that this is minor annoyance compared to what many have to put up with when they visit the cinema but the two old dear's narration did not enhance my enjoyment of the film. I will say no more on this as I feel this could be the subject of a future Room 101 blog.

In closing, the last few days here have enjoyed the sort of weather that suggest that Spring may not be long in coming. My snow shovel has stayed unused (I'm I tempting fate here) and the days are getting longer. This photo shows that the crocus flowers think that it is Spring. I hope they are right.

Until the next time......
     

Back Again

You, Dear Reader, may be forgiven, if you thought that this writer had died, left the country or had found new accommodation at Her Majesty's Pleasure. You will, I hope, be glad to learn that none of the above apply, I was simply busy with other things. Mind you, I could have perhaps made a little bit more effort. It would seem that I have a long way to go, before writing becomes less of an effort   and flows more easily

  

   The above photo was taken today in the town of Musselburgh which adjuncts to the eastern side of Edinburgh. This view of the River Esk, which flows through the town, is looking west to the old bridge. It would have been nice if the sun had made more of an effort to brighten the scene. However, the sun did make an appearance later, which at this time of year, must be considered a bonus.

This is a view of Fisherrow beach, part of said town, looking west to the Edinburgh outline. Fishing is still operated from the small harbour, which can be seen behind the sail, although I would imagine that most of the business carried out from the harbour is now with pleasure craft, judging from the number of small sailing boat taking shelter within. The Gent on the beach was carrying a spade so I presume was in search of some form of bait for fishing. Standing at this point can be, to put it mildly, a bit bracing. However, today was very pleasant and you can not say better than that in mid February.

Here is a shot from said harbour, looking west to Edinburgh and the Port of Leith. Both boats would appear to be working boats awaiting the tide. There were however, many small sailing boat waiting for their opportunity to brave the wind and waves of the Firth of Forth. The sturdy stone walls that protect this little harbour that must have witnessed much in their long existence.

I hope that these blogs become more regular and to help in that aim, I intend to carry a camera with me as much as possible and feature what I see on my travels. They may not be the ultimate in photographic art but they will allow me to share a little of my life and my views of the world I inhabit with you. 

Until the next time.....   

The Forth Bridge

There has been much written recently about The Forth Bridge and the unique point in it's history that it has now reached. This massive steel structure, since it was built, has always required vast quantities of paint to keep the elements at bay and protect this impressive bridge from disappearing into a pile of rust. The photo above shows the bridge (or some of it) on a quiet day.  The sun can shine brilliantly  on it's brick red magnificence but nature can, on a regular basis, re-assert it's command over us mere mortals, with some of the worst and most demanding weather anywhere.

It could be said that the bridge that we know, started on the 28th. day of December 1879. It was in the evening of that day, forty or so miles to the north of the River Forth, that the bridge, which crossed the wide expanse of the River Tay on it's way to the city of Dundee, collapsed. There had been a fierce winter storm and the bridge failed when a north bound train was in the process of crossing it. All of the passengers and crew died on that freezing cold night and the North British Railway, which had spent many years trying to build a direct route from Edinburgh to the north, found that the first of it's great bridges crossing the formidable estuaries of the Tay and the Forth had gone. The engineer of the Tay bridge was  a Sir Thomas Bouch and he had also set the designs for a suspension bridge over the Forth. As the Tay Bridge had seemed a somewhat fragile and delicate structure and possibly not too well put together, his plans for the Forth Bridge, the building of which was about to start, were thrown out. The new design was to be as  strong as possible and the Victorian age threw up the very man to do the job. William Arrol became the contractor for not only the Forth Bridge but the second Tay Bridge and also the Tower Bridge in London, all being worked on at the same time. It is due to this man, that the Forth Bridge still stands and is still doing the job it was built to do.

You might be tempted to think that this writer has completely forgotten the purpose of this blog but never fear, we have finally arrived and the answer is that they have stopped painting the bridge. Not out of awkwardness or lack of money. They simply do not have to lift a paint brush again for perhaps twenty to twenty five years. The structure was taken back to the bare metal and then treated to the multi-layer paint technology of oil rigs. It has taken ten years of hard, difficult and frequently dangerous work but it has been worth it.

This means that the saying 'its like painting the Forth Bridge' can no longer be applied to any job or work that seems never ending. Since its construction, the job of painting was constant. Trying to cover the vast area of metal took so long, that when they had finished painting the bridge, the painters had to go back to the beginning and start all over again.

One of Scotland's great monuments has never looked better and it is something we should all be very proud of. There has been suggestions that a permanent viewing platform should be placed on the north most tower and while there have been the usual moaners, I for one, would love to enjoy the views such a tower would afford. If the Victorians can build such a marvellous structure as THE Forth Bridge, why should we not be able to construct what would be an excellent visitor attraction and I would be at the front of the queue.

Incidentally, the steam locomotive of the ill fated train that went to the cold depths of the River Tay was raised and put back into service, being the only survivor of the accident. Railwaymen then always referred to it as 'The Diver'.

Until the next time.          

Room 101

As I find writing a bit of a chore and it being only too easy to busy myself with some other activity, I have come up with an idea that I hope will get me tapping on the keyboard more often. As I am sure, even with your good self, there is many a time you would like to put someone, some thing or some activity into Room 101, as on the television programme. Working on the basis that it is easier to Moan and Whinge than it is to write or make positive comments, I hope that my blog count increases and I simply become more used to expressing my thoughts in words. I promise not to take advantage of this licence to M & W and will try to find some positive element in my desired additions to the dark recesses of that room.

CYCLISTS - There, I've said it.
                      I didn't wake up one morning with a sudden hatred of those of my fellow citizens who like to balance on a couple of spoked wheels as they make their way around the universe. Hatred is probably too strong a word, but I do find that on far too many occasions, I am possessed of an fearsome anger at the antics and some time dangerous activities that cyclist seem to think they have every right to perform. I am well aware that motorist (the subjects of a future rant) are no innocents but I am sick of the constant underdog tag that cyclists like to cling to, when I have for many years witnessed selfish, rude and sometime dangerous behaviour, in exercising their right to cycle where they wish. No one is forced to ride a bike, it is a decision that should be made, taking in to account all the factors. If the road is too dangerous, then that does not infer a right to cycle on the pavement instead.

Most Cyclists here in Edinburgh (and I assume elsewhere), seem to fall into one of two types. The first is kitted up with all the gear and while they are to be commended for taking such care, it does seem to grant them a position of superiority, they are always right and the rest of humanity is wrong. The second type ignores the special clothing, helmets etc. but does carry something else on their bike, namely, a big chip on the shoulder, probably because they would rather be in a car. As a pedestrian, I have been the victim of verbal abuse and threats of violence from both types. It makes me wonder at the health claims for cycling if the state of their nerves are stretched to such an extent that such automatic outbursts seem justified to them, even when they are completely in the wrong. It would appear that traffic lights etc. don't apply to cyclist. I should add that all of my experiences and observations of the above were collected while being a pedestrian or a bus passenger. As a driver, I fear cyclists and give them as wide a berth as possible, which is not always easy.

However, while I try to make allowances for the failings of my fellow man (it's usually male cyclists that cause the abuse), there is one area in which I can not forgive our cycling friends and it is the canal. Edinburgh is lucky to have a restored canal on which a pleasant and relaxed walk should be enjoyed along it's towpath. The Edinburgh and Glasgow Union Canal does not actually reach Glasgow but instead connects with the Forth and Clyde Canal at Falkirk. The connection was made in times past, by a staircase of locks but now the magnificent Falkirk Wheel, which is well worth a visit, does that duty. The canal starts (or finishes) at the Tollcross area of central Edinburgh and meanders through the countryside to the west of the city, following the contours of the land requiring no locks until it reaches Falkirk. This lack of locks gave the Union Canal the nickname of 'The Mathematical River'. The canal should afford a pleasant walk, enjoying the wildlife, plants and the lack of traffic fumes but I seldom take advantage of this linear haven as it has become a cycle expressway and the lack of respect for any other user of this quiet byway makes me very angry. I do not object to cyclists using the towpath but please respect others and do not treat this ancient thoroughfare as your own.

Now that is off my chest, may I close with this observation. When I had the day job, I walked home most evenings and my route took me along the former Corstorphine Branch railway line. This is used by cyclist and I am proud to say that I was on friendly nodding terms with most of them. Why this stretch of path should be different I do not know but I hope it shows that I do not hate cyclist as such but just wished that they gave some respect to others as they obviously expect themselves.

In closing, todays photographs are of photographs or they would be if I could get the system to do what it has done often before. How I love computers!

Correction, here are the photographs. I have tried to sell, at local craft fairs, a selection of my photographs on my Daughter's paper craft stall. My success has been limited, with my best customer being the said daughter !  However, I am very pleased with how they look on her wall and that has given me some ideas on display and promotion at the next fair. I am also planning to present them for sale on the internet in the near future, so I will continue to work on creating new pictures and trying new techniques.


 
Until the next time, best wishes.

                    

Picnic at Blackness

 Today, my wife and I took a little trip to Blackness, on the south coast of the Firth of Forth. Situated to the west of Edinburgh and the two Forth Bridges (to be joined by a third in a few years time), this one time port is a very pleasant place to walk and enjoy the open freshness of the area and indeed it was very fresh today. Despite being only the 23rd. of January and rather cold, the sky was as blue as you see in these photos, which were taken last summer. I did not take anything today, just enjoyed the views and chatting to my lovely wife, who enjoys this area very much.

The Port of Blackness was once a very busy port and was and still is the official port of Linlithgow, my home town. The castle, which has guarded the port for centuries, is well worth a visit and there are also interesting walks, both east and west of the village. If you have a small sailing boat, then there is a club where you could keep your craft in the sheltered bay, ready for great sailing when the wind blows (which is often).                                                                                          

On our way to Blackness, we stopped off at the New Hopetoun Farm Shop, with the intention of spending a Gift Voucher which we had received as part of our Christmas present from one of my brothers and his wife. I wish that the critics of Scottish food would visit places like this and see the range, variety and quality of food that is available both locally and in Scotland. While I searched hard and long, I could find no evidence of Deep Fried Mars bars or the like. If you love food and appreciate quality and taste, then a visit would be very worth while. We found a number of items which made up a very pleasant and tasty picnic lunch, while enjoying the views and the fresh air.

Until the next time, Bye.

Memories

I have recently become aware of the importance of memory and the crucial part that it plays in our individual lives but also that of our society and civilisation. We are nothing but a collection of memories, that if they were to disappear, would leave us with nothing but a blank sheet. It is what we remember that shapes our lives, the decisions we make and most importantly, how we interact with our family, friends and the world at large. If you read my previous blog, you will see that I was greatly affected by a past memory and in this case, not in a very positive way. Others might have reacted differently which illustrates that character can make a vast difference but it still needs the building blocks of memory, if they crumble, nothing is left.

I have reached that age in which I have many 'Senior Moments', having trouble remembering that actress's name in that play last night or what was my purpose for climbing the stairs or entering a certain room. In the past, I never made a great effort to remember the different elements of my life, content to think that they will be somewhere in my brain and that I will be able to retrieve them when required.

Our brains contain a time machine. It might be a bit wonky sometimes, rather like Doctor Who and his TARDIS time machine on a bad day but it is the best that we have and I for one, will be making every effort to use that powerhouse and the vast library of thoughts that it houses. It is my life and I would be a lot poorer if much of the joys, pleasures and even the sadness of the past were lost to me.


The above photo was taken in Dalry Cemetery on the western edge of central Edinburgh. It is an old cemetery and I doubt that it's occupants are bothered by any new additions to their eternal rest. As with any old cemetery, I find myself drawn to the shapes and lighting in these isolated islands in our cities. Now that I look at the photograph, I see that it would have been better to crop the image, to rid the picture of that dark area at the top. It was however, the word 'memory' that caught my attention on this stone, as I thought how many of the souls resting here would now be remembered. Their family and friends would now themselves be memories,  destine to fade as the world goes on.

This is a better crop of the picture which was taken on a pleasant summer afternoon. The image was processed as an Antique Colour with soft focus corners.


In closing, I have thoughts that my photography, each image a memory in it's own right, could also be a great tool in stimulating my own faltering brain cells. Keeping my memories alive, keeping them available so that I am not just a empty blank sheet.

Until the next time, Bye.