Scone Club Site, Tayside

We woke to clearer skies than yesterday, and weather which remained better on the whole, or at least until we were tucked away from the elements. Today was to be all about Dundee; we rose late but were still away before 10 am, heading on a roundabout route south of the Firth of Tay, on minor white roads, hugging the shoreline as far as the roads allowed. Fields of golden crops and random castle ruins kept us from travelling too close; the slightly elevated route afforded us excellent views to the north, across to those shores travelled two days ago.

We arrived at the wee settlement of Balmerino where the ruin of an Abbey of the same name is to be found tucked up behind a hedge. The parking is poor, but enough for the few cars who might arrive at any one time; this is hardly a sought-after tourist destination. 

The Abbey was established by a band of twelve Cistercian monks arriving here on foot from Melrose in 1229. I am inclined to think these chaps might have been escapees because their successors turned into a very independent type of Cistercians; perhaps the discontent was sown by this seeding bunch? 

They supported themselves by managing the abbey’s outlying lands, growing crops and obtaining wool, and by fishing. The community owned mills, and exported grain from the harbour. 

However by the sixteenth century, these monks were keeping their own personal cash, clothes and food, and even had their own individual gardens, hardly like the subservient communal bunch at Melrose. This rebellious behaviour did not last for long because by 1559 the abbey was overthrown by protestant reformers and the community dispersed. At least they would have been better suited to survive in the real world than the lot that kept to The Rule.

Parts of the abbey still survive today because of their conversion into a private residence in about 1600, later becoming a home for James Elphinstone, 1^st Lord Balmerino. This title lasted only until 1746, when Arthur, 6^th Lord Balmerino, was executed for his part in the Jacobite uprising.

The ruins are mostly barricaded off with a very old fence structure and signage is scarce, although no more scarce than we have encountered in other ruins. We wandered about as far as the area allowed, marvelling at the ancient chestnut at the rear of the grassed area which tradition suggests was planted by Queen Ermengarde at the foundation of the abbey in 1229. However the National Trust for Scotland has taken core borings which indicate that it is a mere 400 to 435 years old. This still does not detract from the fact that this concrete filled and propped up tree is doing a whole lot better than any of us would be doing at even a quarter of that age.

From here we wound our way through a series of even smaller lanes, on which we were fortunate enough not to meet any one, let alone a large tractor, finally emerging near Wormit, the coast hugging settlement immediately opposite Dundee.

We crossed on the mile and a half long Tay Road Bridge, opened in 1966, which runs parallel with the rail bridge a little upriver. This makes for a most attractive entry to the city and we found our way to a multi-storey parking building soon after reaching terra firma. From there we walked to the first attraction for the day, the DCA or Dundee Contemporary Arts centre. This is promoted as a stunning five floor complex which houses galleries and a host of other wonders, including the usual shop and café. I had expected more for our own entertainment; a series of galleries and a variety of contemporary art works? This was not to be.

There is currently just the one exhibition showing; a collection of work by Clare Woods titled Victim of Geography, vast oil painted aluminium sheets of intense colour with abstract subject matter. The catalogue and introductory filmed interview with the artist do put some context to her as an artist although the work itself is left for the viewer to interpret, enjoy or despise at leisure.  We came, we saw, we conquered? Well not quite, but we can say we visited the DCA and now know what and where it is.

We walked up into the city centre, but still only about 11 am, the Scots, like their southern counterparts, were still abed, apart from the homeless who had already staked out their posses. St Paul’s Episcopal (Anglican) Cathedral was open to us, although parishioners were still lingering about after their weekly session. Our guide book describes the cathedral as “gaudy” and compared with the more dour or subdued Presbysterian churches we have visited since in Scotland, it may well be considered so. 

The Cathedral was designed by Sir George Gilbert Scott, he whose accomplishments fill an encyclopaedia all of their own, the foundation stone laid in 1853 and the building completed just two years later. It is in the Gothic Revival style, but nowadays tucked discretely between other large buildings and inside intimate and welcoming despite the normal ornate decoration of Anglican and Catholic places of worship. Interestingly there was yet another homeless chap squatting in the church porch, ready to be stepped over as the parishioners and well-heeled tourists exited the building. I wondered at his drug of choice that any sucker might be tempted to help fund, or am I being horribly cynical?

We lunched in the City Square, surrounded by a series of fine buildings, the Caird Hall, the Marryat Hall and the City Chambers to name just three. There are quite a few relatively new timber benches and picnic type tables scattered about for the convenience of the public, and it was one of these we sat to watch as the folk of Dundee slowly arrived to enjoy their Sunday afternoon shopping.

We had other matters in mind apart from shopping in the excellent large shopping malls close by; we headed to the McManus Art Galleries and Museum, another of George Scott’s Gothic Revival masterpieces, opened as the Albert Institute in 1867. The building has undergone change since then, and more recently, between 2005 and 2010, was closed for massive renovation. It is a lovely building, and the art galleries on the top floor were enjoyed by yours truly, especially the Victoria Gallery. The exhibits in the museum are tidy and well conserved, but the stories are lacking. Perhaps I am becoming too fussy as we visit so very many museums about the place, or perhaps I am just now all museumed out after having taken in so much history from the wonderful places we have called of late.

We learned a little about Dundee, despite my nonchalance: that the city of Dundee which covers an area of twenty six square miles, has a population of about 146,000 with a wider regional catchment of nearly 650,000 and that it is the third most populous city in Scotland. Dundee is the birthplace of the Scottish computer games industry, taking credit for Lemmings and Grand Theft Auto, that it was here that the adhesive postage stamp, radar, aspirin and the hole-in-the-wall cash dispenser were all invented, and that it is one of Scotland’s sunniest cities, regularly recording more hours of sunshine than any other. Dundee has many more claims to fame but I shall leave this to others to find out.

It had been our intention to make our way back to the car, and so we set off back down toward the Square, where we were delayed for some time. There was a wonderful group of musicians entertaining the Sunday crowd, a youth orchestra no less, casually clad in jeans, tights or kilts, and all having so much fun as they made their way through a varied repertoire. To add to the entertainment was a seriously aged tramp who had once upon a time known the joys and art of music and was now reduced to a mouth organ. He joined the performance whenever he recognised a chord and pranced about as a jester of old may have. What a treat and a bonus to our day this was!

We dragged ourselves away before they wound up their performance, but only just before the heavens opened up and poured down upon us. We came on home the twenty five or so miles without event to find the rain was yet to arrive in Scone, and when it did, it was negligible.