Bangour Village Hopsital

My parents were both born in Glasgow, married in Glasgow and had there first home there. As the first born of three children I was born there too. After I was born and before my brother was born 5 years later my parents moved to Livingston which was a new town being built from the ground up to accommodate the overspill from not only Glasgow but Edinburgh too as it was bang in the middle of both major cities. Going back now I find it strange how much it has changed but I do forget there was not much there when I was a child and it was still being built when I was a teenager. It has grown so much its virtually unrecognisable.

My brother and then my sister were not born in Glasgow as a result but were instead born in Bangour Village hospital which was the major hospital in the area. Bangour Village hospital was actually a psychiatric hospital primarily and only later was the general hospital created within including the maternity ward. The hospital was though wound down in the 90s and finally closed in 2004. This was because a brand new one was built within the new town also being built and St Johns was finally opened by the Queen in 1989. All babies from then on were born there.

Its another place I have vague memories about but do know I was there because not only would I have visited my younger siblings in hospital but I remember when I was 13 years old having to go to hospital after spraining my ankle which would have been 1985. Of course I was going back. I was going back because its become a place of intrigue for a lot of people. I mean I was not born there so why go there when the hospital where I was born, Stobhill, is not only still open but closer at hand? There is just something about an abandoned hospital which is more alluring than an open one. Or any purpose building for that matter. Not only is a favourite of urban explorers but of course has become a hub of supernatural rumour (see YouTube) as well as lore relating to the psychiatric function of the place. It was also used in the film "The Jacket" starring Adrien Brody and Keira Knightley

Things have definitely changed. My parents wanted to take the kids to the zoo so we had agreed to drop them off and there was no anxiety. Once dropped off we had time to kill which was when I suggested Bangour to kill some time. Not only that but with an empty car I called my brother and he came along too. Changed days indeed. In all we were out 8 hours and ended at my parents with my sister and her family there too. Everything is starting to feel normal again.

Bangour Village itself is kind of eerie. Security patrols the large site by car ensuring noone breaks into any of the buildings more for health and safety than anything else. As I said before its become a focus for urban explorers and there are many videos online of the interiors to testify to that. I must admit I wanted to see inside too but was not going to break in to do it. Instead I had to make do with looking in the few windows which I could see in. That was fine though.

Its a huge complex and to be honest its a shame not only that it has been left to ruin but more so now that it looks like many of the buildings will be demolished. One day it may all be gone and that is a shame but I guess things move on. It was weird walking about and thinking about how populated it used to be. My mum told me later that the psychiatric patients actually used to wander about the grounds among the visitors to the general hospital. It was strange seeing bus stops being lost to vegetation. And once again memories started flooding back. I remember getting off the bus. I remember the sun. I remember the shop. I remember the buildings. And not just for me but my brother too. It was so huge and even had its own church. One time full of life and now not. I wouldn't much fancy being there at night mind you.

There is not a lot though you can say about a collection of abandonded buildings so I thought it best to end the post with a selection of photos I took. 

The Horn

Travelling along the M8 from Glasgow to Edinburgh there are a number of roadside features to break up the monotony of motorway driving as there are on most UK major roads. One, now, in particular has meaning and that is "The Horn". Its one of those things you note but don't give much further thought to but now its a little different. Not that I was looking to find it. I was instead looking for something else and that just happened to be there. Its a sculpture of a horn some 80 feet high and at the end of a golf course. It just so happens that behind it is the M8 and at that height its a very visible feature. I was not looking for the horn or the golf course but the park both are located in.

Have I ever been to Polkemmet Country Park? That was what I asked myself and increasingly with age I am finding answers to questions from the past are not forthcoming as quickly as they once were. More memories mean more to sift through and those childhood ones are away at the bottom. West Lothian is where I was brought up and there are 3 major parks in the area. Almondell I have already covered and Beecraigs I have yet to return to but know I was definitely there as a child. It stands to reason that I probably did visit Polkemmet but when we went I was unsure.

We went there not for any reason other than a nosey and something different near at hand. I'd wanted to go to Beecraigs Country Park but we were pushed for time. On our travels along the road we'd seen the sign posts for Polkemmet so we decided to go there. I knew there was not a lot to it but I was eager to see if it sparked off any memories.

Polkemmet Coutry Park. Its not a big park. It has a great play park for the kids and at the centre an Owl Centre but the latter was a bit expensive we felt for a family.There was a nice woodland walk following a stream and a nice little bridge across it. We walked for miles and finally ended at "The Horn". Its an impressive structure for sure but once at it there is not a lot more you can can do once you have looked at it.

And that seemed to be that. There were a couple of things which were vaguely familiar but not enough to suggest I had definitely been there. I was unconvinced. As fine as it was there was not enough there to give me any desire to return. I did like seeing wild poppies though. I don't get them around my way or if I do I have missed them. We were walked back a different way when we came across what looked like a mini pavillion at first glance. As we got closer and saw the inscriptions it was clear it was a mausoleum- later research tells me its 100 years old which is fairly recent. It was though walking around this that suddenly I had a memory of the past. Not clear but I had definitely been here before. And that realisation seemed to allow other memories to come forward by association. Yes, I'd been at this park before in my pre-teens with the school or the summer clubs.   

The three of us

Thanks to my wife's family the kids will look back later on in life at more than a short stay in a Scottish caravan park when it comes to holiday recollections. Well the girls at least. Before the boy was born my wife's parents paid for a family holiday to France- I didn't go of course. Then in 2014 my wife's sister took the oldest girl to Italy, the youngest girl last year and this year took both of them. The boy hasn't been away but at 8 years old there is plenty of time ahead for that. While they were away for a week though it was important we tried to do something with him. And so we did. But not without that dread at the start and end I always have about them flying. Also this time the youngest girl would have her birthday without us abroad which  I didn't like but could do nothing about short of making her miss a holiday.

We didn't do anything special but did do something every day to at least make him feel special. As it rained most of the time what we did was mainly walks and drives but varied enough to keep him interested. He was a little trooper. A 4 mile walk around Strathclyde Loch must have felt like 8 miles for his little legs but he did not complain once. And nor did he moan we had a long trek through Calderglen woods in the rain up high slops and down staircases. Since being able to we have been going to the summer fayre as a family but this year the wife was not interested and the girls were away so it was me and the boy. Given both our lack of passion for fairground rides it was not a long stay and the rain did not help but again it was all about getting out. At least he got a hot dog for lunch.

It ended with an overnight at a hotel and a meal at Frankie & Bennys. He really enjoyed that and I had my first good sleep in a hotel. Spending time as three was good for him. It wasn't Italy but to him it was more than Italy could have offered him. But I think the highlight for him was the return of his sisters. They dominate the TV at night in the bedroom but I think he would have traded that to watching what he wanted alone. He missed them and was happy when they returned earlier today. Now we are five again.