Comiston Farmhouse, 1920

Harvest Field, Braidburn Valley, with Comiston Farm and the Pentlands in the distance, 1920
('Mark', The Living Memory Association)

A rather wonderful photograph from almost a century ago.

Braidburn Valley 1936

For anyone who missed this post yesterday by 'Lost Edinburgh' here's a re-post of David McLean's vignette and Mrs Elcock's charming photie:

'Braidburn Valley Park looking towards Pentland Hills, 1936. This view is looking in a southerly direction towards Oxgangs Farm - the council estate was still another 20 years away. Apart from the odd cottage or farmhouse, it was mostly green fields from here all the way to the foot of the Pentlands.When this photo was taken Braidburn Valley Park marked the edge of the city boundary. There are also tramcars running up and down Comiston Road!

Thank you to Mike Elcock, whose mother took this photo from her bedroom at 1 Greenbank Crescent.

School Summer Holidays

Many books which recall childhood and youth remember the school holidays as a time filled with sunshine-literally and metaphorically-I'm no different. It was always a delicious moment awakening on the first few days knowing that I didn't need to attend school.

For many of us at The Stair-those of us in our teens it didn't mean a long lie in bed as we would always have a job on the go, either delivering milk or newspapers-usually the latter. However, out-with our paper runs and Sundays when we visited our grandparents at Portobello, there was no structure to each day. Games of football would occur spontaneously, but mainly in the early evening. During the day we’d go jumping the burn, following the burn from the lower part of Redford, through Colinton Mains, Firhill and on to Braid Burn Valley.

Small villages would appear at the back field when the girls draped blankets on the fence to form tents. Sometimes families packed a picnic and some blankets and headed to Braid Burn Valley for an outing. We’d go far into the Valley toward the grass steps-an outing wasn't an outing without the children rolling over and over down steps from the top to the bottom. The picnic wouldn't include anything more than a sandwich.

As we got a little older there were other adventures to be sought out-Happy Valley at Craiglockhart; the Craiglockhart Hills and the Pentland Hills too. Once deep into the Pentlands apart from the occasional plane overhead, we had entered a different kingdom-it was a world where the air was fresh, light zephyrs blew through the long grass-sheep grazed in parts-birds flitted through the air-Stevenson wrote of the whoop of the curlews and they continue there to this day. On a visit to Swanston last autumn I ventured there for old times' sake and watched them float on the breeze.

The Craiglockhart Hills are a delightful small set of hills just a fifteen minute walk from Oxgangs across the Colinton Mains Park sports fields and the burn. As with the Pentlands we only visited these hills during the summer months-although in later decades Alison and I used to visit the Merchants Golf Course when the winter snows were there-indeed she was the most exuberant sledger there when around seven months pregnant with Atticus much to her sister's and my concern!

And as with the Pentlands I always felt a certain sense of apprehension and excitement when I ventured to The Craigies, because they always felt both familiar and unfamiliar-this was because we would only visit them once or twice each summer. Part of the excitement of the Craiglockhart Hills was that we (always visited as a group) might bump into other older, bigger boys who could be menacing and second the grounds men who looked after the Merchants Golf Course who often spotted us when they were out on their tractors. They would chase us away-this gave us a real frisson of excitement. On the blind par three third hole we'd sprint on to the green, place a golfer's ball in the cup as if they'd achieved a hole in one and then hide in the woods. The golfer would search all around for his golf ball before taking a desultory glance in the cup followed by a merry jig!

Another memory was the hypnotic effect I felt whilst standing high up on the top of one of the hills, quite close to the edge, and looking down at the long grass on the valley floor which was gently swaying in the wind-I thought how easy it might be to be drawn over the edge such was the effect.

It was great fun being up on the Craiglockhart Hills because it would have been a sunny day which had attracted us up there-and sitting up high, on the dry ground, with the grass gently swaying and the sun beating down, looking over 360 degree views enabled us to take in the panoramic view and enjoy everything that is wonderful about the city. The whole of Edinburgh was laid out before us and being a clear day we could see clear across the River Forth and to the north and the Highlands; turning around we could look to the Pentland Hills and to the south.

As a boy I was getting my bearings, locating and fixing the world-it was a moment of meditation and contemplation.

Figures On The Edge No 2-Michael Hanlon

Michael was one of the predominant figures at The Stair. He was around nine months or so younger than me. Like me he was in the upper median age group of children at The Stair and was a boy who liked to be outside so was a key figure over the period. As a young lad at primary school he was a gentle and likeable lad, who once he got older and went to Firhill Secondary School came more into his own. He was a very sociable boy and enjoyed playing with most of the boys around. In particular he was friendly with the likes of Jonathan Taylor and Colin McFarlane from local Stairs and also Willie Taylor, Jonathan's brother.

Over the years I must have played hundreds of games of football with Michael and also have gone jumping the burn with him in large groups of boys and girls. Michael and a group of boys were quite into Japs and Commandos types of games which didn't appeal to me, so I tended not to be quite so close to that group of lads as he was.

Michael Hanlon (Willie Taylor in background)

Willie Taylor; Michael Hanlon; Keith Robertson; Steve Westbrook
Front Row: Boo-Boo Hanlon; John Duffy; Mark Robertson; and Iain Hoffmann

Once at secondary school Michael was very proactive in organising more formal football matches than we had previously been involved in-he organised matches in which we (Red Star) had take ons again other local street teams-in my diaries I come across references of Michael wants me to play against Joe Rendall's; Kenny Taylor's; Martin Davidson's teams. I won't bore you with the details of the results, but they were close affairs. Apart from myself all these lads were at Firhill. Michael had to alert me to the games asking if I would turn out. I wasn't playing much football by then as I was playing rugby for Boroughmuir Secondary School.

Whilst I enjoyed these matches and ninety minutes of hard effort I sense a growing frustration in some of my diary entries-I was playing in midfield, but covering a lot of the ground, both forward and back and felt that several of my team-mates weren't pulling their weight-I wasn't specifically critical of anyone, but was saying that I had run myself into the ground. Knowing myself that was probably more a reflection of how competitive I was-I was a fair player, most of the time thinly disguising a very steely will to win whereby I would give my all in these games. Others were much more balanced and probably just enjoyed the matches for what they were, giving a certain amount of effort. Michael as the owner of the team was probably the captain which was just as well-he was a far nicer lad than me and I would have been too hard a task-master, unfortunately probably more in the Roy Kean mould!

On one occasion in the autumn there was a period of very heavy rain where the Braid Burn had completely flooded its banks-at Firhill Crescent at the old multi-storeyed fifteen floor villages in the sky playground the water was very deep. A group of us had ventured out in our Wellington boots. I can recall Michael bending over fascinated by the depth of the burn-it must have been eight feet-well I'm ashamed to say that I couldn't resist giving him a nudge with a gentle knee to his backside-well blow me down he toppled straight over and into the water-we all laughed like drains, made worse when he emerged like a drowned rat exclaiming It's nae funny Peter what will ma faither say! I do recall we dried Mike's clothes in front of our fire before he went up The Stair but probably not before he had given me a bloody nose!

Out-with Douglas Blades and Liz Blades, I think Michael was the first member of The Stair to leave school when he went off to join the Royal Navy-in later years I think Michael had spells with the Fire Brigade and the Army too-a life devoted to public service for which he would have been very well suited.

Happy Days-Visiting The Drysalters at The Broadway and The Crescent

I only visited the dry-salters shops occasionally.

There was one such shop at the south-east corner of the the Broadway (number 9) and another one at the north-east corner at the Crescent shops (number 29) which was owned and run by Mr T. K. Francis.

These visits were mainly seasonal.

I only visited the shop at the Broadway around fireworks time - this could be for Victoria Day in May and Guy Fawkes night on the 5th November.

They stocked fireworks and I sometimes bought a few.

They also sold an unusual safety match which if we were up to some misadventure we'd look in and buy a box. The only other time I was in the shop was if I was helping out Helen Blades with her shopping because it was here she bought her paraffin and also briquettes.

It was a highlight visiting this shop because I liked the smell of the paraffin, although it must have been hell for the staff employed there. 

The matches came in a fascinating, little fancy box; they were of a much higher quality than Bluebell or Swan Vestas - a small, blue box with fewer matches, but the coating of the match was thicker as indeed was the match-stick - higher quality - it's funny how things like that come to mind - I haven’t thought of this product for forty years. 

Most of our business was given instead to the dry-salters at Oxgangs Crescent. 

David Lines, Oxgangs Avenue wrote earlier in a comment An ironmongers which occupied the large corner of the 'L'. I remember this used to stock everything-paint, nails, wallpaper, candles-it had the most wonderful smell which greeted you when you opened the door (paraffin I think). If you couldn't get what you wanted you could always walk along to the ironmongers at The Store. Clearly another person who liked the smell of paraffin! 

Douglas Blades commented on the shop The large hardware shop in the corner at Oxgangs Crescent was run by the father of Donald Frances who was in my year at Boroughmuir...another of these forgotten and lost stories of the original shopkeepers at the Broadway and the Crescent which would make for a fascinating social history.

It was at the Crescent dry-salter's shop, that depending on the season, summer or autumn that we bought our fishing nets; our balsa-wood planes; and our cinnamon sticks. 

The planes were cool coming in slim paper bags - there was a wide variety of them; the fishing nets were for our annual summer trips to Braidburn Valley where we fished for minnows and sticklebacks; come the cooler months of autumn Iain Hoffmann, Boo-Boo Hanlon and others smoked our cinnamon sticks. Happy days!

Exoticism in Oxgangs ?

Did Oxgangs do exoticism in the 1960s?

During the school summer holidays when we were quite young, a nice outing was to the lovely Braidburn Valley for a small picnic. These family outings would tend to only include mums and children as the dads would be out at work.

We would set off eagerly, fresh as daisies and keen as mustard. 

My sister, Anne, would be in a push-chair - very handy for transporting a blanket and picnic. 

For those families such as us who lived at the four Stairs it was a long walk, because we were going from one end of Oxgangs Avenue to the other and from there onward through Braidburn Valley to the far end - a fair old distance. However, it was slightly downhill and as the Gaelic saying goes We had the sun on our face and the wind (just a zephyr) at our back.

When we turned into Braidburn Valley the first house on the left had a large back garden that ran adjacent to the cinder path into the valley.

Back Garden of First House Greenbank (Peter Hoffmann)

A great highlight for all the children was the doo'cot in the back garden. If we were lucky we might see the exotic, white doves. For young children it was quite magical to see the birds.

(Photograph by Rustythespian)

Outdoor Theatre Performance at Braid Burn Valley (Photograph by Mr W. R. Smith)

We always took our picnic deep into the valley toward the far end at the open air theatre which had been created just after the Second World War for outdoor performances at early Edinburgh Festivals. 

This was a sylvan little spot.

The water in the burn was shallow, still and clear. 

We would go barefoot in the burn and with our little nets fish for minnows and sticklebacks. The nets had been bought at the start of the school summer holidays, from T. F. Francis' drysalters shop at 29 Oxgangs Crescent shopping precinct.

(Outdoor Theatre Braid Burn Valley, Peter Hoffmann)

We would always climb to the top of the steep slope and roll down the grass steps (outdoor seating for the theatre). This was always great fun. All the while, mums would chat contentedly with other mothers or read the Woman's Own or a novel all the while knowing the children were safe and happy.

These picnics were simple little affairs. And then before we knew it, it would be time to head back home to The Stair. 

This was the hard part; not just because it signalled the end of the picnic and the afternoon but because with our little legs it was a very long walk home. 

We were at the far end of the valley; the cinder path was long and wynding and before we left the park we had to negotiate a slight uphill incline out of Braidburn Valley. However, at least there was the doo'cot to look at. And then there was the challenge of walking all the way along Oxgangs Avenue - a long weary walk in to the west. The sun was in our faces making us too hot and the breeze was against us. We were all a little weary from being on the go all afternoon and were all looking forward to getting home and our tea.

(Braid Burn Valley - The Long Walk Home to The Stair, Peter Hoffmann)

The smaller children might be lucky to get a collie-back ride or to find a spot on the push-chair. It was tough on the mums; being the eldest I never got a ride back to The Stair. There would be regular moans from some of the kids, I'm tired Mum. And then it would be over. Home was in sight. It was grand to get home and back to The Stair, pooped, but content; tired, but happy.

(Approaching the border line where two communities, Greenbank and Oxgangs (almost) meet, Peter Hoffmann)

And the answer to the question is that no, there wasn't exoticism in Oxgangs.

Instead it was to be found at Greenbank. It was where two worlds met. The doo'cot served as a metaphor and perhaps summed up the difference between two communities at the border-line; the gap between the working class, council owned, grey housing schemes of Oxgangs and the middle class, privately owned bungalows and villas of the leafy suburbs of Greenbank. 

Even the two names seem to jar against one another - the tougher sounding Oxgangs against the soothing image of Greenbank

Sturmey-Archer; Zen; and Lance v Boo-Boo + The Hoffster v Eastern Scottish!

We're big fans of the Tour de France; each summer my wife Alison and I settle back on the sofas and become immersed in it-Brad is Alison's favourite-I enjoyed watching Lance Armstrong's exploits and before him the five time winner, from Spain, Miguel Indurain.

Cycling was big at Oxgangs in the 1960s-today you would be lucky to spot a kid on a bike. Most of the bikes back then were built from scratch-there was a great trade going in bike frames which could be picked up for five bob-this trade was supplemented by trips up to Thomas Piper's cycle shop at Churchill at the top of Morningside Road, just along from the Churchill Theatre. The shop was a great place to visit-a real Aladdin's Cave -it had a distinctive smell from the rubber; it existed for decades and only closed in the past ten years or so. Even then the shop had passed on to new owners as Thomas Piper died in 1939. At the top end of the price range wheels and gimmicky items like speedometers, bottles and bottle-holders were occasionally purchased-more often it was inner tubes, puncture repair kits or spanners at the lower end of the scale.

(photo by The Invisible Agent)

If you were lucky you had a bike with 3 speed Sturmey-Archer gears-Dougie Blades had 5 gears which was unheard of! It must have bugged him because I was always up at his door borrowing his racer-looking back he was pretty decent to allow me the use of it, although often it was perhaps his mum, Helen, who gave me the go ahead to use it when he was out.

I enjoyed sitting out in the back alleyway where the sheds were.

Back Alley and Sheds-There were no stairs there in the 1960s (Photograph Peter Hoffmann 31/08/2012)

It was here that I pottered away with my bikes-fixing a puncture or tinkering with the gears-there was something very satisfying about working with your hands. The experience was enhanced if it was raining outside because one was sheltered under the alley roof but the entrance was open on two sides, one of which was the entrance to our back garden.

Entrance to 6/2 Back Garden (Peter Hoffmann 31/08/2012)

It was a Zen like experience, focusing on working on the bike while being vaguely aware of the rain pitter-pattering down outside, whilst one kept dry inside-a lovely feeling. Because of the weather I'd usually be working alone as everyone else was inside in their homes-occasionally someone would pass by and pop their head in and exchange pleasantries.

Great fun was had playing in The Gully which lay between Oxgangs and the Braids; it was located to the south of nice houses at Pentland View and lay in a small shallow or valley. I guess it was a fore-runner to BMX riding with the circular paths with rises, declines and jumps.

(photo by Thomas Lee)

That I'm alive to write this blog is down to good luck; one afternoon after playing at The Gully I came home via Comiston Road on a made up bike which had no brakes. I was flying down the road when an Eastern Scottish bus was leaving a bus stop adjacent to Braid-Burn Valley. I was going so fast that I would have hit the back of the bus-I had to take evasive action by overtaking it. This was a struggle as the bus was gaining speed all the time-I peddled furiously just managing to overtake it to the astonishment of the passengers on the lower deck-however as I edged in front of the bus I had to take a sharp 90 degree left hander veering into Greenbank Crescent to go back home to Oxgangs-I knew it was going to be difficult to make it-I did manage to keep upright, but of course with the formidable speed I swung straight on to the other side of the road before mounting the pavement-very fortunately there was no oncoming traffic.

(photo by Regentlad)

Occasionally some of the older boys up Oxgangs Street organised bike races out to Currie. The boy who surprisingly dominated was someone who didn't excel in any other sports or activities-I think his father was Polish and his name was Paul Kaszynski. I was really impressed at how good he was and even at a young age it occurred to me that one needed a certain fortitude and mental resilience to put in such a strong performance in sport.

For me however, the most extraordinary performance on a bike was Boo-Boo-a group of us used to go on long cycle adventures in the summer holidays including Les Ramage (4/3); Ali Douglas (8/3); and Iain-this one was to Dalkeith and home via Liberton Brae-we all had passable bikes-except for Boo-Boo who borrowed one of mine which had a puncture-Boo-Boo was so keen to go on the outing that he rode the whole way, there and back, with no air in one of the wheels-respect!

More on bikes in a future blog-including the famous Raleigh Chopper.

Never Had It So Good?

(Daily Mirror cartoon)

In the 1950s the Prime Minister, Harold Macmillan, told the electorate  that they had never had it so good. His comments will have been partly based on the progress made in implementing the Beveridge report and tackling the five evils of want; ignorance; disease; squalor; and idleness. Clearly the young families who moved into the newly built 6 Oxgangs Avenue from 1958 were direct beneficiaries of what men had gone to war for and the new vision of a country fit for them to live in afterwards.

Generally the families at number 6 (always referred to by us as The Stair)  lived in harmony. Yes, there was occasional friction, but it was very mild and occasional - all the families were good neighbours. The culture was a happy one which probably reflected the optimism of the 1960s. 

Compared to the housing which had existed a decade before the new housing schemes were great places to live and bring up young families - modern flats; indoor loos; open coal fires. Children played safely. There were formal playgrounds, sports pitches and tennis courts; adventures were on the near doorstep to Redford Burn, the army polo field and Braidburn Valley. 

(Braid-Burn Valley looking NW toward open air theatre) MJ Richards Licenced for reuse Creative Commons Licence

There was Dr Motley's surgery and Mr Russell the dentist. There was a new school with the beautiful title of Hunters Tryst set in lovely spacious grounds that had large playgrounds, its own small wood and large sports pitches.

It was a period of stability. 

Families were generally happy with mums and dads, despite the daily grind, enjoying the novelty of parenthood. Women were the home-makers - men were the breadwinners - access to employment was relatively easy. No one was well off as each household would be described as working class e.g. no-one owned a car, however people weren't desperately poor even if Family Allowance made the difference between eating or not. 

The Stair has reflected the changing decades. If the 1970s were about strife, then some of the new inhabitants were not as neighbourly. The 1980s of Thatcher led to families buying their own houses. The 1990s were a period of growth and better wages and no doubt those now at number 6 will have enjoyed foreign holidays and car ownership. The Noughties and the impact of the recession could be seen when I paid a visit last month to Oxgangs, where The Stair was looking a little neglected.

As mentioned Dougal (6/1) worked as a shop assistant at Aitkenhead's Grocery shop and then as a stock-keeper at Brown Brothers Engineering Company. As for my father Ken - well my mother Anne gave up counting at thirty the number of jobs that he had been in - assistant cinema manager; stock clerk; lorry driver for Bain's delivering meat to butchers shops in Edinburgh and the Borders; long distance driver for John Bryce; he had however also been a Chief Officer in the merchant navy, training at the renowned Edinburgh company Ben Line - his qualification was probably the equivalent of a degree in physics or maths, but those were before the days of NVQs, so he found he could not use transferable management skills to gain better employment. The other issue was that being an alcoholic made it difficult for him to hold down a job for any length of time. 

Ben Cruachan 1946

Mr Stewart (6/3) was a policeman and like many others in this line of work he kept a complete distance from any other neighbour in The Stair. 

George Hogg (6/4) was a joiner. He was part of a cooperative of skilled tradesmen who built their own houses toward Oxgangs Green. In later years Eric Smith (6/5) worked as a general helper at Marks and Spencer which was a secure job. Charles Blades (6/6) worked for many years at Ferranti's where he was a Personal Assistant to Basil de Ferranti. 

He regularly accompanied him to meetings in London. Charles had initially trained as a doctor, but late on in the course dropped out. Like my father Ken he was an alcoholic which prevented him reaching his full potential and also blighting others' lives too. Dougal, Ken and Charles were clearly bright individuals - Charles' father Daniel was Lord Blades, the respected judge and Solicitor General for Scotland. 

Charlie Hanlon (6/7) worked for many years at the Uniroyal Rubber Mill which superseded the North British Company - a secure job for many years. He worked shifts - sometimes Hilda would hang out the top floor sitting room window and chastise the kids for being too loud and 'keeping my Charlie awake when he's on the night-shift'. I liked the way he brought home a 'Friday Treat' of chocolate bars for Michael, Boo-Boo, Colin and Alan - if you'll forgive the pun, it was a very sweet thing to do.

Workers leaving rubber mill at Fountainbridge after a shift (Edinburgh Evening News)

Mr Duffy was a general labourer and scaffy in later years; previously he may have worked elsewhere but that change may have been brought on when he perhaps lost his driving licence?

Comment From Will Hoffmann: Interesting as usual but it would perhaps be better served as the very first blog entry as it sort of sets the scene and introduces the 'characters'? 

Response: 'Thanks for dipping your toe in the water Will. I'll have to come up with a small reward as you're the first person to comment.Did you recognise old Fountainbridge - 007's old haunt and close to your beloved Zizi's? It's a useful comment because it's forced me to articulate what was only in my 'mind's eye'! I think you're right - it could have been used as an initial blog, but equally, given the motivation and impetus for the blog is a valid approach too. Early posts do need to set the context and the characters. However, I don't want to follow an academic or chronological approach, although some of it will be the latter. Instead I want to go for something which is more free flowing, whilst having a certain shape in mind. I thought Shell-Shocked for example is a very powerful piece which allowed me to present two main characters, Fiona and Peter (me) in a situation interfacing with an old man who was an interesting character. Rather than describing us, it gave me the opportunity to show our behaviour allowing you to form an opinion of us and our personalities and also an important aspect of day to day life at the time. Some posts will occur to me by accident, others will flow from one post to another e.g. meals, crockery and Buchan's Pottery! There are endless little diversions that could be followed. I've devoted a post to 6/1, The Swansons - clearly I intend to work my way through each family all the way to 6/8, The Duffy's, but I want to intersperse these posts with stories and events that will hopefully be of interest and over a period of time allow readers to see the characters evolve, grow and develop in 1960s Edinburgh-a bit like a TV soap opera!'