Elvandale, Dunhead, Midlothian, Scotland

We were away at about 8.30 am this morning, a little earlier than usual but I knew that The Boss would be champing at the bit to get home to watch the tennis. We headed north west along the Edinburgh bypass turning toward the southern shores of the Firth of Forth rather than continuing on toward Glasgow or Aberdeen. Our first destinations were the seaside suburbs of Greater Edinburgh; Cramond, Newhaven and Portobello, intending drive-by inspection rather than full on exploration.

We found our way down to a littered car park adjacent to the little sloping village of Cramond and walked down along the sea frontage. This morning we found three motorhomes that looked as if they had overnighted here; we decided that Scotland may well be a better place for motorhoming than England. There were also several early dog walking folk; here there was plenty of space for dogs to run free and wild. Out in front of us stretched the one mile long causeway, covered at full tide; Cramond Island only an island for a few hours a day.  

Cramond was an important Roman settlement, with a fort built here around AD 142. The port was used to supply the Roman army in Scotland, and the Romans may have used the island too. The River Almond flows into the Forth here at Cramond providing a sheltered spot for yachts and other craft to anchor. From here one can walk upriver to reach a weir and mill, enjoying the wildlife along the way; how lovely that would be. 

However we returned to the car and continued on eastward along the coast, heading to Newhaven. The old village of that name was established by James IV at the start of the 16^th century as an alternative shipbuilding centre to Leith. Newhaven, now just a suburb of the city, has been a ferry station and an important fishing centre. Today tourists can wander about the sheltered stone harbour we caught sight of as we drove on past.

On we went, following the shore, passing through the port of Leith and the mouth of Leith Water, a spot we reckoned would be worth checking out later if time allowed. As we drove over a rise with views of the mile long stretch of sandy beach, we could see why Portabello was once one of those seaside resorts that have all the bells and whistles, the sort I find gauche, kitsch, ghastly … whatever you wish to call it. We drove along the High Street of Portabello and decided that it was quite a stately suburb, and with a month to see Edinburgh, worth returning to, but not today.

At that point we turned south, setting our Tomtom to Craigmillar Castle, arriving just minutes after the opening time of 9.30 am. Here, on one of the many greenbelts we were to get a glimpse of today, is considered to be one of the most perfectly preserved castles in Scotland and even today, it retains the character of a medieval stronghold. Chris reckoned it to be his favourite castle so far, which I thought a pretty big claim to make given all the castles we have visited this year and the preceding two.

Building began in the early 15^th century and over the next two hundred and fifty years it became a comfortable residence surrounded in fine gardens and pastureland. Most prominent is the tower house with its warrens of rooms and stairways and it was this we spent most of our time in.

The Preston family built the castle on this point close to their estate at Prestonpans; it was easily defended, surrounded by hunting grounds and close to Edinburgh and the base of power. Scottish King James V had a hunting lodge and chapel nearby and his daughter, Mary Queen of Scots often stayed here to hunt, hawk and ride.

In late 1566, ill with depression after giving birth to James VI, who later became James I of Britain, she came here to recover. (Wouldn’t anyone be depressed after witnessing the murder of her secretary, Rizzio, by her jealous husband Henry, Lord Darnley, and his supporters?) It was here that her supporters met and signed the fateful document, the Craigmillar Bond, binding themselves to kill Darnley. Three months after this momentous agreement, Darnley‘s town house was blown up and his body found nearby; he had been strangled.

The house was expanded during the next couple of centuries. In 1660 the castle was sold to Sir John Gilmour and a century later, abandoned.

From up on the walls, all very accessible to those with knees and legs to climb spiral staircases, there are wonderful views across to Edinburgh and back to the Firth of Forth. We spent more than an hour here but left before the chap setting up an archery activity for visitors was ready to open his little exhibition.

We realised we were too early for our next destination, checked our rather simple map out and decided we would try to drive through Holyrood Park and around Arthur’s Seat, all visible from our viewpoint up on the castle walls. We found a road into the Park in West Duddingston, but the road was closed off soon after a small car park; we parked up and set off on foot.

Surprising to us is the existence of extinct volcanoes here in Edinburgh, but disappointing to find that which makes up Arthur’s Seat and Holyrood Park erupted 350 million years ago, hardly comparable with Rangitoto or the Central Volcanoes of the North Island of New Zealand. However this should not detract from the impressive heights and shapes of the crags above us as we walked south around the closed road. Arthur’s Seat stands 251 metres ASL and today there were dozens of folk heading up into the hills and along the ridges that make up the Salisbury Crags. Below us to the east lay the Dunsapie Loch and an expanse of greenway one would not expect so close to the capital’s centre.

Back in the car out of the cold wind, we ate our packed lunch then headed southwards again, this time for Rosslyn Chapel. Had we visited this spot back in 1979 when one of our guides was published, it would have been free and probably the fine sculptural decoration would have been covered in moss and algae. Today the stone work was clear of such invasion, but the chapel not of the human kind.

Today we joined the 170,000 or more that visit the place every year, thanks to the miracle worker Dan Brown who wrote and published the Da Vinci Code in 2003 which was subsequently made into a film three years later. Not only did this alert the public to the fact that this is one of the finest examples of stone carving in such structures, it suggested there were also a myriad of tantalising secrets, many of which were hinted at in Dan Brown’s novel.

Perhaps I would have enjoyed the visit more had there been less visitors, and perhaps our fault was that we called on a Sunday when it does not open until midday given that it is still an operating Christian church. 

The chapel was the brain child of the era-appropriate St Clair or Sinclair family, my own ancestors, although the branch who set to building this were the last I can lay claim too. (Mine went on to be the Sinclairs of Caithness.) The St Clair family had been convinced to settle in Scotland in 1070 when King Malcolm gave William “the Seemly” the lands of Rosslyn.

Generations later, in 1304 St Henry St Clair built Rosslyn Castle to replace an earlier building. The ruins of this can still be visited today, but they are now that, a ruin. One hundred and forty years later, the castle was damaged during Henry VIII’s “Rough Wooing’, the war he waged on Scotland in an attempt to force a marriage between his infant son, Edward, and the infant Mary, Queen of Scots.

In 1571, the Protestant reformation took hold outlawing Roman Catholic worship, rather delayed from the English own reformation. The chapel’s clergy were forced to resign. Twelve years later Oliver St Clair was ordered to destroy the altars of Rosslyn Chapel and the building fell into disrepair.

In 1650 when Oliver Cromwell’s forces invaded Scotland, they attacked Rosslyn Castle and during the fighting stabled their horses in the chapel. While this might seem a massive desecration to some, it was in fact the saving of the building, the fine stone work saved from deliberate destruction.

One hundred and thirty years later, the romantic ruins of the castle and mossy over-grown appearance of the Chapel attracted many artists and poets, including great names such as Robert Burns, Sir Walter Scott and Dorothy Wordsworth, all of whom were duly inspired by the spot. In 1842, young Queen Victoria popped in for a visit and suggested that reparation would be a good idea. Twenty years later Sunday services resumed but I do wonder whether she offered any financial contribution to the repair work. 

By the mid-20^th century, the stonework was found to be very wet and mossy, and conservators thought it would be a good idea to spray a plaster substance over the decaying stonework, a disastrous decision. Moisture was trapped inside allowing for even more moss and mould to grow. In 1995 the Rosslyn Chapel Trust was formed to care for the Chapel and a giant umbrella like canopy was built over the building in the first really major attempt to conserve the building. The plaster and organic scunge was scraped off and the multi-coloured sandstone, that from the Roslin Glen, rich in rose gold to umber hues, was once more revealed.

We joined the crowds pouring into the visitor centre, the tariff for AOP at £7, probably fair given the funds that have to be raised for restoration. The chapel really is a magnificent example of stone masonry artistry and I could probably say a lot more if I had not felt overwhelmed by the crowds of tourists. We arrived in time to seat ourselves congregation-wise and be treated to an excellent introduction spiel by a very competent ball of knowledge. Once she warned the non-English speaking folk to stay quiet, she kept us all entertained and better educated to appreciate the features of the chapel about us. But … it would have been so much better had there been even a tenth of the numbers. 

I should mention here as an aside that it was here at the nearby Roslin Institute that Dolly the sheep was cloned in 1996. Thinking about this, I considered the concern about the Brave New World raised at the time; the controversy died away and who knows what secret developments have been taking place since then. We plebs have moved on to worry about other things and have left the scientists to their spells and other magic. 

We called into the Asda superstore near to the Park and Ride we will check out tomorrow and purchased a couple of necessities. Back at camp I laboured over a bucket full of hand washing and Chris sat mesmerised by the tennis, before preparing another delicious dinner.