Showing posts with label Midlothian. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Midlothian. Show all posts

Tuesday 13 August 2024

Skulferatu #125 - The Banana Flats (Cables Wynd House), Cables Wynd, Leith, Edinburgh


Ah, I do love a bit of Brutalism, that is as in the architectural movement rather than some sort of savage violence.  I know it is not everyone’s cup of tea, but for me I find there is a sort of Sci-Fi utopian appeal to it.  Even now, some of the buildings in that style look like something from the future.  So, being in the mood for a look at some heavy concrete, I took a walk through Leith to probably the most famous Brutalist building in Scotland, Cables Wynd House, locally known as the Banana Flats. 

 

A view down a street of 19th Century houses to a long grey and concrete block of flats with lines of windows running along it.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
View down to Cables Wynd House

 

A photo of a tall concrete tower block on pillars with the building stretching round in a curve to the left. Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Concrete and cloudy skies

 

View along a road on which runs the grey walls of a tower block.  A red, low walled building stands on the right of the block. Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
View along Cables Wynd House

 

A view up a pole on which hang large lights and a CCTV camera.  The grey walls and strips of windows of the block of flats sits behind.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Big Brother is watching you

 

The Banana Flats is one of those buildings that I remember having a certain mythology around it in the 1980s.  It was a place where some of my teenage acquaintances ended up being housed after being made homeless, having escaped violent and/or dysfunctional families.  Bumping into them in the pub on a Friday or Saturday night, they would regale me with tales of drug dealing, suicide, prostitution, and strange and bizarre happenings around the building.  And though I listened with fascination to their tales, I grew to be terrified of the place, thinking of it as some Sodom and Gomorrah, and hurrying past it if I was out in that area.   Then one drunken night I ended up at a party there, and it wasn’t that bad.  Fair enough, some kid did try to threaten me into giving him money as I was leaving, but he was about twelve and gave up when I just ignored him.

 

A view of a curving tower block with a central tower in the middle. Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Cables Wynd House

 

A view looking up the concrete tower of the flats with the regimented windows of the tower block on the right-hand side.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Concrete in blue

 

A picture of a red brick wall on which there is a sign stating BEWAR anti climb paint on roof.  Behind the wall there are the grey walls and windows of a block of flats. Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
BEWAR

 

Though the building has had, and still has, a bit of a reputation, it was built with the ideal of improving the quality of life for many of those living in substandard housing around Leith.  Between the 1950s and 1970s, there was a huge slum clearance project in Leith that resulted in the construction of several large public housing schemes. Cables Wynd House was part of this project and was completed in 1965.  The building is of a Brutalist design and was designed by Alison & Hutchison & Partners.  The design was influenced by the ideas of the architect, Le Corbusier and his utopian concept of the ‘Ville Radieuse’ or the Vertical City.  This being a city of high density housing in skyscrapers, located in a parkland area with shops, leisure, and cultural amenities as part of the development.

 

A view of a concrete tower.  In front of it stand some bare branched trees by a road on which several cars are parked. Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
South tower of Cables Wynd House

 

A view of a wall on a block of flats with the sign Cables Wynd House on it.  The flats can be seen stretching away to the right.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Cables Wynd House

 

A view of a grey concrete tower stretching up to a blue sky. Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Concrete tower

 

A photo showing a grey and concrete block of flats that curves away to the right.  To the right of it stands an old style tenement block of flats from the 1890s/1900s. Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
The Banana Flats curve

 

A photo showing a grey and concrete block of flats that curves away to the right.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
The Banana Flats curve

 

A photo showing a grey and concrete block of flats that curves away to the left.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
The Banana Flats curve

 

A view from a cobbled street of a long, grey block of concrete flats stretching off into the distance. Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
The Banana Flats from Henderson Street

 

Constructed of concrete, Cables Wynd House has a distinctive curve, that has resulted in its nickname of the ‘Banana Flats’.  At the time of its construction, it was the largest block of flats in Edinburgh being ten storeys high with 212 flats, the majority of these having two bedrooms. Cables Wynd House was regarded as being innovative in its design with features such as heated floors, lifts, refuse chutes, and a concierge.  It was also built with external access decks to recreate the sense of community that had existed in the neighbourhood it replaced, and has a North-South orientation to give as much natural light into the flats as possible.

 

Originally seen as a desirable place to live, things changed in the 1980s when the building, and surrounding area, gained a reputation for drugs and violence.  Things have improved, but Cables Wynd House, though seen as iconic by many, is still plagued by problems, and is regarded as the most deprived part of Edinburgh.   

 

The building gained fame as being the home of the character Simon ‘Sick Boy’ Williamson in Trainspotting by Irvine Welsh, and was featured in the film. It has also been used in the BBC television dramas Wedding Belles and Guilt.  

 

An old style photo showing a block of 1960s concrete flats with some trees in front of them.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
The Banana Flats

 

A black and white photo split into three parts showing different views of a banana shaped block of flats. Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Model of Cables Wynd House showing the curve

 

In 2017 Cables Wynd House became a Category A Listed Building, for demonstrating ‘a culmination of contemporary architectural theories, bearing a close resemblance to Le Corbusier's Unité d'Habitation model housing and other notable near-contemporary English schemes’, as well as being ‘both a positive and negative architectural icon, representing a period of great social reconstruction in Scotland’s cities.’

 

After taking a walk around Cables Wynd House, on a typical Scottish day of rain, sunshine and then rain again, I left the Skulferatu that had accompanied me on a cobwebby ledge by the Dry Mains Riser.

 

A photo showing a hand holding up a small ceramic skull (Skulferatu 125) with a concrete building in the background.  A sign on the building states Cables Wynd House. Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Skulferatu #125

 

A photo of a red metal door in a concrete wall of varying greys in a pattern of a line and an oblong. There is a sign stating Dry Riser Inlet on the red door. Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Dry Riser Inlet

 

A photo of a small ceramic skull (Skulferatu 125) sitting on a cobwebby concrete ledge by a window enclosed with a wire guard in a square shaped pattern.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Skulferatu #125 on a cobwebby ledge

 

A photo of a small ceramic skull (Skulferatu 125) sitting on a cobwebby concrete ledge by a window enclosed with a wire guard in a square shaped pattern. Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Skulferatu #125 on a cobwebby ledge

 

TomTom Map showing the location of Skulferatu #12
Map showing the location of Skulferatu #125

 

The coordinates for the location of the Skulferatu are -

 

Latitude 55.973143
Longitude -3.17431
 

what3words: wells.reap.over

 

I used the following sources for information on the Banana Flats –

 
Brutalist Britain (Second Edition)
By David Navarro & Martyna Sobecka
2022
 
 
 

Tuesday 25 June 2024

Skulferatu #122 - Wallace's Cave, Roslin, Midlothian

 

‘Mud, mud, glorious mud
Nothing quite like it for cooling the blood
So follow me, follow
Down to the hollow
And there let us wallow in glorious mud…’

 

The chorus to Flanders and Swann’s Hippopotamus Song is what came to mind as I took a walk along the paths of Roslin Glen.  Though I was out on what was a pleasant and sunny day, the night before it had poured and poured, and the narrow paths leading around the gorge were thick, squelching mud. To a chorus of bird song and the burbling of the river below, I slipped and slid my way through a mire of dirty brown ooze.  Not that I was complaining, I’ve always found that a walk through the woods makes me feel quite relaxed, no matter how manky it is.  It is probably something to do with the trees, their movement in the breeze and their calming aura.  Or maybe something to do with a primordial memory of the forests our ancestors once inhabited.  Whatever, a walk in the woods is always very calming.

 

A view between the trunks of two trees of a tree covered slope.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
In the woods at Roslin Glen

 

A view of trees on one slope that overlooks trees on an opposing slope in Roslin.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
In the woods at Roslin Glen

 

A leafless tree that looks as if it is waving up to the sky.  Below the ground is covered in the green shoots of wild garlic with a muddy path cutting through.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
In the woods at Roslin Glen

 

A cheeky little frog sitting in the dirt.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
A frog

 

So, I sploshed my way along the path saying hello to a frog or two on my way, and then came to a set of very wet and slippy looking stone steps that led down the embankment of the gorge.  However, despite the way they looked, I found that grip on them was no problem, and it was easy to walk on down them.  They then led to a narrow, trodden earth path that brought me to the entrance of a cave.  This is Wallace’s Cave, named after William Wallace, you know the one, the guy with the painted blue face who looked a bit like Mel Gibson, though was probably slightly less antisemitic.

 

The reason the cave acquired its name is that there is a local legend that William Wallace hid from the English army here.  The story goes that Wallace and his followers had been in a battle against the English where they had been massively outnumbered and outmanoeuvred.  After being heavily defeated, they had then fled into the woods around Roslin with the English army in close pursuit.  Wallace and five of his companions then split off from the rest of his followers and made their way down to the cave.  There they hid for six days and nights while the English army scoured the woods for them, cutting down any man they found.  In the early morning of the seventh day, Wallace and his companions, who were now starving and half dead with hunger, left the cave and managed to make their way out of the woods and to a place of safety.

 

A path leading past some trees.  By the tree in the foreground are some stone steps leading down a steep looking bank.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Stairs down the embankment to the cave

 

A view up some muddy stone steps in a hillside.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Stairs down to the cave

 

A view looking up a rock formation to tree that towers above.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
The cliffs above the cave

 

A side on view of a cave entrance on a steep hillside.  A large tree leans out just behind it.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Entrance to the cave

 

A closer view of the entrance into the rock of the cave, this is Wallace's Cave.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Entrance to the cave

 

The cave is man made and dates from prehistoric times.  Carvings found outside the cave on the rock face and inside the cave itself, are believed to date from the Bronze Age.   However, when, and why the cave was carved out into the stone of the embankment is not known.  Whatever purpose and function the cave served for the prehistoric people who created it are now lost in the mists of time.

 

A view inside the cave showing the low, arched roof and a dirt floor.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Inside the cave

 

A view inside the cave showing the red of the stone walls.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Inside the cave

 

A view looking out of the cave into the daylight where the branches of the trees in the glen can be seen.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
View out from the cave entrance

 

A view along the cave looking out showing the curved entrances carved in the stone.  On the floors are scattered some of the dead leaves blown in from the previous autumn.   Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Inside the cave

 

Venturing inside the cave I found it to be quite a pleasant and sheltered space.  It was also quite dry; unlike many caves I’ve visited before.  In one of the recesses in the cave I found some of the plumpest, juiciest spiders I’ve seen in a long time.  They hung from the roof like luscious Gothic blackberries.  I imagine if Renfield had been locked up in this cave rather than the asylum, he would have plucked them from their webs and gobbled them up.  I was half tempted myself, and did wonder if maybe Wallace and his companions had munched on a few of them during their stay here.


A photo of a spider hanging from the ceiling of the cave, behind it is its shadow making it look like there is a huge spider hanging by it.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
A plump, juicy spider

 

A view of a carving in the stone by Wallace's Cave of three swirling circles.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Carvings outside the cave

 

Before leaving, I left the Skulferatu that had accompanied me on my walk on a mossy ledge by the entrance of the cave.

 

A view of a hand holding up a small ceramic skull with the entrance to Wallace's Cave in the background.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Skulferatu #122

 

A photo of a small ceramic skull sitting on a mossy stone ledge in Wallace's Cave.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Skulferatu #122 on a mossy ledge

 

TomTom Map showing location of Skulferatu #122
Map showing location of Skulferatu #122

 

The coordinates for the location of the Skulferatu are -

 

Latitude 55.856336

Longitude -3.151793

what3words: satellite.newlywed.drifting

 

I used the following sources for information on Wallace’s Cave –

 
Rutherglen Reformer - Friday 27 November 1885
 
 
 
Lyrics from ‘The Hippopotamus Song’ –
by Michael Flanders & Donald Swann, from the album ‘At the Drop of a Hat’
1960

Tuesday 26 March 2024

Skulferatu #116 - Bilston Glen Viaduct, Loanhead, Midlothian

 


I do love wandering around bits of our industrial past, whether that be an old railway, a derelict factory, old mineworks or a repurposed power station.  On a stroll from Roslin to the outskirts of Edinburgh, I walked over a piece of our industrial heritage – Bilston Glen Viaduct, or as locals refer to it, the Bilston Climbing Frame.  Wandering down a steep and narrow path under the viaduct I could see why it had acquired that name with the criss-crossing of the iron lattice work underneath.

 

A photo showing three black metal bollards across a pathway that leads along the walkway of a bridge.  The latticed metal railings of the bridge rise at both sides of the path.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Bollards by the viaduct

 

A photo on the pathway across the bridge (Bilston Glen Viaduct) with the iron latticed railings at each side. Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Path across the viaduct

 

A view of trees in a woodland scene.  Green ferns grow in between them.  Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Wooded area of Bilston Glen

 

A view of the iron girders beneath Bilson Glen Viaduct. Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Underneath the viaduct

 

A view across the underneath of the viaduct showing a mass of criss-crossed iron that makes up the supports and frame of the bridge. Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
The criss-crossing iron lattice work underneath the viaduct

 

A view showing one side of the iron viaduct crossing over to the other bank.  Trees grow on the left-hand side. Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
View of the viaduct

 

Another view showing one side of the iron viaduct crossing over to the other bank.  Trees grow on the right-hand side. Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
View of the viaduct from Bilston Glen

 

Bilston Glen Viaduct is an old iron railway bridge above the steep gorge of Bilston Glen. The Edinburgh, Loanhead and Roslin Railway used to run across it.  This railway carried coal and ironstone from mines at Penicuik, Roslin, Bilston, Loanhead and Gilmerton.  It also carried passengers to Roslin.

 

The viaduct was built in 1892, and replaced an earlier one built at the same spot in the 1870s.  It appears that there had been concerns about the earlier bridge due to movements of the ground caused by the mineworks.  Concerns were also raised about the design of that bridge, as it had been designed by Sir Thomas Bouch, the designer of the infamous Tay Bridge that had collapsed in 1879.

 

Bilston Glen Viaduct was built with a single deep wrought iron span supported on low piers with granite abutments at each end to support it.  The separate pieces of the bridge were all made in Glasgow and then brought out to the site where the bridge was then assembled.  As the viaduct is made of iron it expands and contracts in the heat.  On a hot summer’s day, it could be up to 2 ½ inches longer than it was on a cold winter’s day.  To avoid this damaging the supports, the bridge was fitted with expansion mountings.  These allow the bridge to move. 

 

 In 1969 the section of the railway that ran over the viaduct was closed.  In 1999 restoration work was carried out on the viaduct and it opened again as part of the walkway that follows the old railway line.

 

While wandering around under the viaduct, I left a Skulferatu in a gap in the granite stonework of the abutments supporting it.

 

A hand holding up a small ceramic skull (Skulferatu #116) with the underneath of the viaduct in the background. Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Skulferatu #116

 

A small ceramic skull (Skulferatu #116) sitting in a gap in a stone slab covered in lichen. Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Skulferatu #116 in a gap in the granite stonework

 

A close-up view of the small ceramic skull (Skulferatu #116) sitting in a gap in a stone slab covered in lichen. A small ceramic skull (Skulferatu #116) sitting in a gap in a stone slab covered in lichen.​ Photo by Kevin Nosferatu for the Skulferatu Project.
Skulferatu #116 in a gap in the granite stonework

 

TomTom Map showing location of Skulferatu #116
Map showing location of Skulferatu #116

 

The coordinates for the location of the Skulferatu are –

 

Latitude 55.87089

Longitude -3.150976

 

what3words: herb.windmill.widen

 

I used the following sources for information on Bilston Glen Viaduct –

 

Tourist Information Board at site
 
Canmore
 
Edinburgh and Lothians: Exploring the Lost Railways
Alasdair Wham
2006