Iain; The Author; 'Noggin'; and Gavin, Summer 1961

Back in 2012 when I was writing the blog each day I occasionally searched in vain for this photie; serendipity-today whilst looking in an old box I stumbled across it by accident. I reckon it's from 51 years ago out the back of The Stair in the Hoffmanns' back garden which was always a sun-trap. Iain looks around three years old, whilst Norman Stewart and I look about five and about to start school at Hunters Tryst. Norman (6/3) and I were sometimes best friends, at least for a year or two and in the same class for seven years, where we had a certain rivalry in the top five in the class. Next door neighbour, Gavin (6/1), now Dr Gavin Swanson is far right and a year short of starting his distinguished academic career. 

On The Cusp Of the Year

Today is Thursday, 15th August, 2013. It's the last day of the year since, on a whim, I first started the blog, The Stair, on Thursday 16 August, 2012. On the cusp of the year, both for the blog and when late summer is just turning to early autumn I thought I would display this lovely photograph of the season. 

The photograph has been taken up at Swanston Road with the T Woods in the background on the lower slopes of the Pentland Hills. A local farm worker is atop a cart and horse carrying hay; they are making gentle progress up the slope on a golden afternoon at the cusp as summer turns to autumn.

It was on such afternoons throughout the 1960s and on to 1972 that I along with the other twenty four children from The Stair contemplated our return to the classroom. Quite often the weather remained similarly fine and sunny which made it a struggle to return to stifling classrooms at Hunters Tryst, Firhill and Boroughmuir Schools. Those of us with an awareness of the English system would be envious that our peers across the border wouldn't return until September.

For most of the kids we didn't really want to go back-even if by the back end of the holidays being off school had perhaps lost a little of its sparkle. I've no doubt though that a few others like Gavin Swanson who were more studious actually looked forward to the start of the autumn term and the new school academic year. I don't think I ever did, but there was always a certain 'buzz' about going back. 

The boys had visited Ben Mackenzie for a haircut-Michael; Boo-Boo; Brian and Alan Hanlon will have had their number ones, whilst Iain Hoffmann and I had our hair plastered down with jungle juice. 

For those with new schoolbags (and that unforgettable smell of leather) or new school clothes and ties or perhaps those going up to secondary for the first time many will recall these days with a mixture of excitement and pleasure, but pain might be too extreme a word choice!

Many of us were keen to squeeze the last drops from the summer fruits and as the countdown began we managed to play amongst the hay in the fields at Swanston; have grass fights with the mown grass in the front garden of 6/2 Oxgangs Avenue; or late evening games of kick-the can or British Bulldog at The Field. Bike runs were still taking place-I note that in August 1972 Paul Forbes; Boo-Boo Hanlon; Iain Hoffmann and I cycled through Arthur's Seat to Portobello whilst young Colin Hanlon cycled so far. On another occasion Boo-Boo, Iain and I watched a world record at the Edinburgh Highland Games-little did I realise that a few years later I would take part myself. 

There was still a certain continuity in our lives as milk runs and paper runs were still being undertaken, because not many of us at The Stair went away on holiday other than Liz Blades to Stonehaven; Anne Hoffmann to our New Town cousins; or Alison and Fiona Blades; Iain; Paul and I camping at Stobo, Peebles. 

For a few summers we enjoyed our Mini-Olympics at the army's former running track at Redford Barracks which were great fun. We might even manage a final visit to go jumping the burn at Colinton Mains through to the Braid-Burn Valley, but by then the grass and wild flowers and weeds and nettles had perhaps become too overgrown. 

And if it was wet, Iain, Paul and I would enjoy card games at The Blades with Fiona and the girls or play mischievously with their giant tape-recorder with Paul blowing great rasps onto the tape.

The cusp of the year was further illustrated and articulated through the school calendar.What was truly lovely about the summer was that it brought many of us at The Stair together whilst school would unfortunately divide us. At the start of the autumn term The Duffys returned to St Augustine's whilst The Hanlons; The Hoggs; Norman Stewart; The Swansons; and The Hoffmanns were divided up between Boroughmuir; Firhill; The Royal High; and of course Hunters Tryst. The cusp was thus metaphorical and literal.

And on this last day of the year of the blog whilst it should perhaps be a time for reflection I'm not inclined to go down that road, and for whatever reason I'm not inclined to quite bring down the curtain on it-and certainly not before I do a Where Are They Now blog-and even that of course is unlikely to be a final hurrah.

So, on the cusp of the year after a golden 2013 summer good luck in your adventures-and I look forward to meeting and hearing from old acquaintances and making new. And by way of update, one former member at The Stair, Fiona Blades has been accepted to undertake a PhD whilst I'm joining Iain Hoffmann on holiday to Portugal. Any updates from others would be welcome!

Not Swimming, But Learning!

One possible divide in The Stair was the children who regularly went to Warrender Swimming Baths and those who didn't. There may have been a cost dimension for some of the children, but generally many of the children managed to get the bus fares and entrance money, if not money for secondary spend.

I cannot ever recall seeing Heather or Gavin Swanson ever going to the baths. Even if they had the inclination to go they never seemed to have the freedom that all the other children enjoyed once they got to a certain age-the interesting dynamic of control was clearly a factor there which as a parent I can now understand. Looking back, for many of us, being able to go swimming without parental supervision was a right of passage. It was another example of the inordinate freedom to roam, that certainly The Hoffmanns were able to enjoy. Because our father would have done the same at the Glenogle Baths at Stockbridge as a boy in the late 1920s/early 1930s, it probably wasn't considered a health & safety issue in our house.

I don't remember seeing The Hogg girls Christina, Maureen or Eileen going along; similarly The Blades and The Duffys. Generally speaking there seemed to be a gender split, because the children who attended regularly were boys-The Hanlons-Michael; Boo-Boo; Colin; and Alan; and Iain and Peter Hoffmann, as well as Ali Douglas (8/3); Les and Derek Ramage (4/3) and many others.

Iain and Boo-Boo were great pals and for several years they used to go along together weekly It was the one activity that Ken Hoffmann used to very occasionally come along with us. He was an excellent swimmer, with an effortless, smooth and powerful front crawl; but it was his diving which attracted great attention. Because the deep end was only six feet deep, unfortunately, all that Warrender Baths had back in the 1960s was a small spring-board-but even from this he performed lovely swallow dives. I enjoyed watching him perform these. What I didn't enjoy was when he might swim under water and suddenly take my legs from me and pull me under the water. I couldn't swim at that stage so it was always a scary experience.

The bold Ken Hoffmann diving off the bridge of a ship

One distinctive memory for me about how life might have been, was when he had the loan of a black Riley car. It must have been during the autumn school holidays-the tattie holidays. It was a wet, overcast Friday. Over lunch he announced that the three of us-Anne, Iain and I would go swimming at Warrender Baths. It was a great feeling to be driven in luxury, rather than queueing for buses and then walking to and from Bruntsfield Place to Thirlestane Road in the rain. We were driven straight to the door! Even the route he took seemed to be magical-through the Braids, Cluny, Blackford and then Marchmont. And the luxury of a chilly bite and then chauffeur driven home!

We usually always treated ourselves to a chilly bite after our swim-it was a hot chocolate drink from a machine which cost sixpence. We really did shiver after our swims so it was welcoming initially, but I usually found it a bit sickly toward the bottom of the plastic carton. There was a rather classy shop with a a lime green painted façade (probably Farrow and Ball paint!) called Elizabeth's at the top of Thirlestane Road from which I'm ashamed to say we used to nick sweets from-perhaps because she was used to a better class of clientèle it was as easy as stealing sweets from a baby.

Edinburgh Corporation were very go ahead with their swim lessons programme which were usually held during the school holidays. For this one would usually be issued with a swim pass on the last day of term dated for say the two weeks of the Easter Holidays which gave one free access to the baths. It was on one of these occasions at Bruntsfield Primary School (Sean Connery's old school) where they had a pool in the basement, that I first learned to swim-what a feeling! The instructor obviously realised I'd mastered the stroke, but didn't have the confidence. He gave me water wings to put on for confidence-what I hadn't realised was there was no air in the wings-bright or what?

After that one was able to make progress through their swim development programme-a lovely certificate for swimming a length-thereafter it got progressively more difficult, but because the certificates were so classy, one wanted to get better to obtain them-back to my collector tendencies! Anyway, I managed to get certificates 1, 2 and 3, but never sat no 4 which included life-saving at a higher standard than level 3. Part of some of the tests included diving for the heavy rubber brick.

Aye, if we weren't swimming we were learning and if we weren't learning we were swimming!

Hearts or Hibs?

Did you support Hearts or Hibs?

Attending football matches at Tynecastle or Easter Road was a right of passage for many boys in Oxgangs.

Ken Hoffmann was a rugby man. I only ever remember going to a single match with him-it was Hibs v Dunfermline-how did that happen? Did he have free tickets? Was he trying to bond with his son? Anyway, I recall him getting into an argument with a Hibbie when Roy Barrie the combustible Dunfermline player got sent off-I actually sided with Ken on this occasion, because there was a sense of injustice about the decision. The other thing I admire today, from a distance, was that Ken subscribed to the philosophy that it was better to play the game than to spectate.

Within The Stair I think John Duffy from 6/8 attended games with his dad; he was a Celtic supporter. Boo-Boo Hanlon must have been too-see below! Colin Hanlon was a Hearts man and a regular at Tynecastle in later years. Alan Hanlon was perhaps too young back then, whilst for all his enthusiasm for football, I can't recall if Michael went along or not. Michael, Boo-Boo, Colin or Alan-if you're reading the blog, please let us know!

Boo-Boo Hanlon (Photograph, Peter Hoffmann)

Douglas Blades and Gavin Swanson were completely uninterested in footie-indeed they may never have ever kicked a ball in their lives. Although Iain played a wee bit he only ever went to a match on rare occasions-he was most definitely a Hearts man-I seem to recall us going to see Hearts v Brechin City of all matches on Saturday, 27th January, 1968!

For a season or two I attended Hibs matches in the company of the Allans from 4/7 Oxgangs Avenue-this was with Andy and Gavin Allan and one or two of their pals who attended the Catholic secondary school.

It was exciting stuff-good crowds; often it was sunny; the green and white programmes reflecting the strip; and some good players on the pitch-Bobby Duncan; Pat Stanton; Peter Cormack; Peter Marinello-there was a real buzz about such outings.

Peter Marinello and Peter Cormack

Today I'm not a supporter, but when Hearts met Hibs in the Scottish Cup Final earlier this year in May, my heart was very much with the Hearts-my instinct tells me that if I should follow any team then it is Hearts. Perversely, for a while I also used to attend Raith Rovers matches at Kirkcaldy with a slightly older lad from Oxgangs Crescent-it was good fun getting the train from Haymarket to their ground which still boasted an old siren from the War.

Rangers FC 1967-This  Picture Hung On The Bedroom Wall In A Frame For Years 

So was it Hearts or Hibs or indeed Raith Rovers? Well, ironically, at that time I also 'followed' Rangers because I was so close to my grandfather, but never attended one of their matches back then-indeed Ken Hoffmann stipulated that we weren't allowed to go along to any games involving The Old Firm because of potential trouble-probably sound advice.

Postscript; My local team today, Ross County, were unbeaten over 40 league matches until a week or so ago-Come Away The County!