Many follies are hard to describe and lose their impact over time, but The Pineapple in Dunmore (½ mile (1 km) northwest of Airth in Stirlingshire) needs no introduction. On top of a classical Palladian pavilion, housing a small octagonal room, there is a 45 feet tall stone pineapple. When it was completed in 1761 pineapples had only been grown in Scotland for 30 years and were so exotic few people would have seen one, let alone tasted one, but even today, accustomed as we have become to the fruit it is a joy to see.

Commissioned by John Murray, the 4th Earl of Dunmore, the precise reason for its creation has been lost with time. Many sources suggest that the pineapple was then a symbol of wealth, and follies were certainly in fashion. Pineapples were grown at Dunmore in the Earl's heated greenhouses, and the windows looks out onto a fruit orchard which still survives today. If you're going to design a building in the shape of a fruit and really want to show off, the spikiness and symmetry of a pineapple make it a good choice. Whoever the architect was, he did a sterling job - the detail is breathtaking and it has been designed with care. Each leaf is constructed with its own drainage system in order to avoid frost damage.

Its solid construction probably helped to save it from an ignominious end. By 1970 it was still in good shape while the surrounding buildings were falling into disrepair. The Countess of Perth gifted them to the National Trust for Scotland and with the help of The Landmark Trust they were restored. The gardens are open to the public and the building itself can be rented out as an unusual holiday destination.

If you're planning a visit, the gardens are a nice spot for a picnic and there are some woodland walks but be aware that there are no amenities on site - come prepared. From the car park outside the gates, there is a short walk through the beautifully maintained gardens until a gap in the fruit trees frames The Pineapple to best effect. If you walk towards the building there is an information board with some facts and figures on the building and its history. But most of it is just an architectural wonder which won't fail to bring a smile and a sense of wonder to any visit.

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Posted by Anne on July 30, 2006 | Permalink | Comments (1)

It’s amazing what people can get accustomed to. Locals living in Headington, a quiet suburb on the eastern edge of Oxford, don’t seem to notice the 25 foot long headless shark embedded in the roof space of an otherwise undistinguished terraced house. The head turning and furrowed brows are now the preserve of outsiders who gaze quizzically at the fibreglass fish then look skywards as if the beast has crashed down from the heavens. But this fishy protrusion is not in place by accident and from the time it was craned into position on 9th of August 1986 the shark swam into a wave of controversy.

The owner of the house with the new finned extension was Bill Heine, an American expat who had commissioned sculptor John Buckley to create the piece. If Bill’s desire was to generate publicity he very quickly achieved his goal as pictures of the shark went from Oxford to Fleet Street and then around the world. Camera crews and the curious followed all questioning the motives behind the eccentric project. Bill replied that the shark, actually named ‘untitled’, was a comment on Cold War politics having been installed on the 41st anniversary of the dropping of the atomic bomb on Nagasaki. He told journalists,

“The shark was to express someone feeling totally impotent and ripping a hole in their roof out of a sense of impotence and anger and desperation….It is saying something about CND, nuclear, power, Chernobyl and Nagasaki. “

For many locals and council officials this artistic explanation did not provide Heine with the freedom to lower the tone and possibly the house prices in the area. At first the shark was hunted on the grounds that it posed a danger to public safety, but engineering reports on the girders supporting the structure suggested otherwise. The council decided they needed a ’bigger boat’ so used failure to comply with section 22 of the Town and Country Planning Act as grounds for removal. While the debates on the future of the shark became mired in council committees local people slotted into pro and anti camps. The shark was either a harmless bit of fun or an unlawful eyesore. Heine proved adept at stalling for time and in 1991 appealed to Michael Heseltine, then secretary of state for the environment, for clemency. In 1992 Heseltine’s inspector Peter Macdonald ruled in favour of the sculpture and the shark was free to remain a fish out of water.

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Posted by Maurice on July 26, 2006 | Permalink | Comments (8)

When you hear the words “World’s biggest” there is always a frisson of excitement, but the world’s biggest hedge may not be one of the world's great crowdpullers. That shouldn’t take away anything from its leafy greatness though - it sure is big, standing 120 feet tall at its highest point. Just think of the stepladder you’d need to keep that in trim.

It runs along 580 feet of the A93 Perth to Blairgowrie road - on the left if you’re going north; right if southbound. It is believed to have been planted in the autumn of 1745 by Jean Mercer of Meikleour and her husband Robert Murray Nairne (who was later killed at the Battle of Culloden). The Meikleour Beech Hedge has carried the “World’s Biggest” crown since 1966. As with any world record it’s a serious business and the hedge is cut and remeasured every ten years. It is looked after by the Meikleour Trust and maintenance takes 4 men approximately 6 weeks.

If you are seeking it out you could be forgiven for missing it, as to the untrained eye it looks like a tall, well-kept row of trees. I confess to being totally underwhelmed by this as a child, but when I took the time to walk along beside it to get some pictures it is actually quite impressive. The pavement underneath is narrow so from the bottom you can’t quite see the top, like a proper skyscraper. And being beech, it goes a lovely colour in the autumn. Scotland isn’t renowned for its big things, so maybe we should appreciate what we've got, even if it is only a hedge.

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Posted by Anne on July 24, 2006 | Permalink | Comments (7)

Even if you don't normally get excited at the thought of big sheds full of trains the Scottish Railway Exhibition in Bo'ness (near Falkirk in Scotland's Central Belt) is worth a visit. Enter through an old station covered in vintage ads, walk along the platform, cross the footbridge and pass through a sort of railway graveyard, full of old engines and rusting piles of train innards. Before you even enter the exhibition this sets the scene with the real atmosphere of the railways - not some cleaned-up, age-of-the-train marketing ideal but the raw power behind it all.

At the door to the museum the sign says that admission is £1 but if you don't have a pound they'll work something out. It's that kind of place. Inside, it is staffed by charming railway enthusiasts who are in a permanent state of excitement being kept in a giant shed full of trains. They do a very good job of selling the attractions - lots of trains that you can climb on, displays of railway ephemera and for the hardcore, a signal box to play with and something about valves that I'm afraid passed me by.

Over two giant rooms and 850 feet of display tracks, the trains come in all shapes and sizes. There are goods wagons, Army vehicles, brake vans, passenger coaches through the ages and a real example of travelling in style - Scotland's only Royal Saloon which is pretty plush. There are wagons dating from 1862 to 1963 - 101 years of innovation "from solid wooden buffers to self contained hydraulics, from no brake to air brake, from grease axleboxes to roller bearings".

They've made a real effort to create a proper train-y atmosphere with old suitcases piled onto luggage trolleys, rusting station signs and piped in "chuff-chuff woo-woo" noises. You can get onto quite a few of the trains so wee boys (and big ones) can pretend to be the driver. If you're not much of a trainspotter, the old photographs of travellers and stations are really fascinating. The whole place is nicely low-key and thoughtfully put together with expert knowledge and a great deal of enthusiasm. It's hands-on without being all modern and "interactive". Altogether it's well-rounded, getting everything that's great about rail travel, not just the nuts and bolts.

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Posted by Anne on July 18, 2006 | Permalink

It's been a busy couple of months for Nothing To See Here with mentions in the Guardian Guide and Yahoo's Office Attachments in the UK and Australia. Welcome to all new visitors. This publicity has brought us a few new contributors and some interesting suggestions for places to go but we still need more. Here are some of the things we're looking for:

• little towns that have fallen off the tourist map but still have charm, like Moffat
• faded seaside resorts that still have a decaying beauty, such as Saltburn-by-the-Sea, Rothesay
• unusual buildings or follies - Hermit's Castle in Achmelvich
• places that aren't renowned as beauty spots, quite the opposite in fact, which are actually nice or interesting - Rye Lane, Peckham
• old-style tourist attractions that have become eclipsed by theme parks – Blackpool Model Village
• folk art – The Knitted Village, Tetford Scarecrow Fesival; public art - Glenkiln Scupture Park.
• places that are the last/biggest/smallest/best of their kind - Salford Lads Club
• the plain strange - Electric Brae, Haroldswick Bus Shelter

If you don't fancy writing an article yourself you can always nominate a place and one of our scouts could go there. Although there are a lot of UK recommendations at the moment we're interested in the whole wide world so if you're out and about do keep Nothing To See Here in mind.

Posted by Anne on July 17, 2006 | Permalink

Mention that you live in Peckham and most strangers gleefully enquire whether you drive a three wheeled van or live next door to 'Trigger'. Countering that the Only Fools and Horses film crews set up their cameras in Bristol rather than south east London doesn't seem to deter them. The on-screen world of ‘Del Boy’ bears little resemblance with reality and the only ‘trotters’ to be found are in the butcher’s shops. Rye Lane slices through the heart of Peckham and a saunter along its pavements reveals a slice of zone two London as yet untouched by the homogenising touch of modern retail. The street and surrounding side roads are a distinctly chain store free zone. Local entrepreneurship is in the ascendancy and most of those doing the selling are immigrants from an array of nationalities. There is no better place in London to buy international phone cards and avoid trendy wine bars. The effect of this melting pot is chaotic, exhilarating, scruffy, noisy, smelly and colourful in equal measure. Buses and cars battle with pedestrians for superiority and a raw energy crackles in the air.

Book-ending Rye Lane is the large green space of the common to the south and the Will Alsop’s iconic Peckham Library building to the north. The latter is an emblem for the ongoing regeneration of the area and this bold vision of modernity is soon to be joined by Peckham Pier, another Alsop building, this one a gallery space supported by the Camberwell and Chelsea art colleges. Peckham has long been an artistic refuge and a detour to the increasingly gentrified Bellenden Road reveals cast iron bollards designed by local famous person Anthony Gormley. Newcastle may have an Angel but Peckham can boast slowly rusting street furniture of a slightly phallic nature.

The tree lined Rye common is where an eight year old William Blake saw a vision of angels in a tree and is also the reputed site of Bodicea’s great battle against the Romans. The space is a picnicker’s paradise and the Clock House pub is a short stroll for a pint. Outside the library the lights illuminating the canopy in the square change colour in accordance to air temperature. When standing under its protection look across the street towards the ‘Crackerjack’ discount store where, beyond the shop front, you will see a rather crooked, elderly structure. It is a remnant of when Peckham was a village on the edge of the metropolis and is one of the oldest timber framed buildings still standing in London.

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Posted by Maurice on July 13, 2006 | Permalink | Comments (3)

Malham is a village in Yorkshire’s Dales National Park. The population of just 120 is swelled during summer months by day-trippers, hikers, school trips and campers. They all come here to see the ‘rare and exciting limestone features’, which have been formed over twelve thousand years, since the last ice age.

An anti-clockwise walk, which should take around three hours (add extra time for picnics) allows you to see the seven wonders of Malham. The first of these is Janet’s Foss, a waterfall named after a fairy queen, who is reputed to live in a cave at the back of the falls. This is most spectacular during the winter months, but is worth a visit at any time of the year. See if you can spot the nearby ‘coin tree’. Also nearby are the remains of a 2000 year old Iron Age settlement.

If you follow Gordale Beck you appear to be presented with an impassable hill. But keep going; as the valley walls close in and make a sharp right turn, you reach Gordale Scar. 300ft, overhanging limestone cliffs frame a double waterfall. The more adventurous amongst you may continue onwards; you can climb up through the scar, and on towards Malham Tarn. This natural lake lies in a shallow crater formed by a retreating glacier, and was the inspiration for the novel ‘The Water Babies’.

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Posted by Tom on July 11, 2006 | Permalink | Comments (2)

You could say that Lower Largo is famous for one thing, but famous is hardly the word. However if you do take that turn-off on the A915 Kirkcaldy-St Andrews road and land up there it will soon be obvious what it is. Because Lower Largo was the birthplace of Alexander Selkirk, immortalised as Daniel Defoe's Robinson Crusoe. He was born here in 1676 and ran away to sea less than 20 years later to work as a buccaneer. On one voyage in the South Pacific he grew concerned about the state of his ship (good call; it later sank) so stayed ashore on the Juan Fernandez Islands, little knowing there would be four years of solitude before he was rescued.

It's a story that captures everyone's imagination, but considering the romance and drama of Selkirk's life, his legacy in Lower Largo is pretty low key. The first sight to hit you is the Crusoe Hotel, which has an enviable spot beside the harbour. There's no mistaking that it's that Crusoe with a sign made out of driftwood and a signpost saying "Juan Fernandez Island 7500 miles". Round the corner at 101 Main Street there is an Alexander Selkirk statue, on the house that now stands on the site of his birthplace. No doubt if he had been born anywhere else there would be Robinson Crusoe-themed boat trips that take you out to a rock and leave you there for the day, but here it's refreshing to find such a simple tribute to a remarkable man.

This fits in with Lower Largo as a whole - despite its hugely picturesque setting it's a sleepy wee place. Traditional Fife fisherman's houses sit higgledy-piggledy under a viaduct which was built in the 1800s to carry the railway line through. The trains have long gone thanks to Dr Beeching, and the harbour which used to hold 36 herring boats is almost empty but the place hasn't lost any of its character. Like many of the villages in the East Neuk of Fife it is a conservation area, and great care has been taken to keep it just the way it is.

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Posted by Anne on July 09, 2006 | Permalink

You are almost on the edge of nowhere – in an area known as The Black Forest - at the point where the Westerly Pennines slip anonymously into the Cheshire plain. Nearby are places with names such as Wincle, Wildboarclough and Longgutter. Here is Luds Church (map ref 987656) – you will have to look hard to discover it. Often when I have taken friends to show them this strangest of places I have had to search again and again for the hidden entrance.

This is where they say the Lollards (condemned as heretics) hid out in the 14th Century – and it is easy to see why. Who would ever find this place without a map and a knowledgeable guide? Books will casually remark that Luds Church is ‘worth a diversion’. It is worth much more than that. Luds Church must be one of the weirdest and wonderful of places and deserving of more than a throwaway nod.

This natural cleft is over 100 yards in length and in height over 20 yards high in places. Here the light of day rarely reaches and damp mosses curl down from the walls. If you stop and listen, even on the sunniest of days, it is possible to hear the drip and drip of water from the ferns which cling to the sides of this cleft. Perhaps of greatest significance is that this spot has been identified as The Green Chapel – the very place where Sir Gawain met and battled with the Green Knight one new year’s day long ago.

Continue reading "Luds Church, Gradbach" »

Posted by Rob on July 06, 2006 | Permalink | Comments (4)

Hardly an unknown institution, the Salford Lads Club has benefited from a tenuous connection with a celebrated Manchester band. It is now a site of pilgrimage for Smiths fans who queue up to have their picture taken under the distinctive green and white sign.

We were drawn by an exhibition of photographs of the local area called “The Smiths is Dead: Iconic Images From the Dirty Old Town” held to mark the 20th anniversary of Stephen Wright’s Queen is Dead photo session. These were displayed in the pristine Billiard Room, complete with its original tables and fittings. The photographs explored the cultural past of the neighbourhood, and highlighted the area’s importance, not least as the location of the original Coronation Street and Rover’s Return pub, and its role in supplying an authentic ‘Northern’ backdrop to the film East is East.

It was here that we met an enthusiastic volunteer called Leslie Holmes who gave us a guided tour of the building. Next to the Billiard Room is a tiny office containing card file records of every single boy who has ever been a member of the club. This was a persistent theme throughout our visit - the organisers and volunteers have, throughout its history, kept impeccable records and documented just about every event that the club has organised, including photographs of every summer camping holiday - they seem to have always chosen Aberystwyth but I could be wrong. It was a joy to leaf through albums of group portraits year by year and spot faces that soon became familiar. One in particular, Archie, joined as a 12 year old, became a volunteer in later years, and has just been awarded an MBE for his ‘Lifetime voluntary service with young people at Salford Lads’ and Girl’s Club.’

Continue reading "Salford Lads Club, Manchester" »

Posted by Trevira on July 04, 2006 | Permalink

The beautiful beach at Achmelvich on the Assynt peninsula of North West Scotland is worth a visit for the unspoilt scenery alone. However, many visitors to this corner of paradise probably leave without knowing that they were a short walk from what must be one of Scotland's most unusual castles. To reach the Hermit’s Castle, cross the campsite and go through the small gate on to An Fharaid Bheag. Head due west for about a quarter of a mile and you will see the castle nestled perched over a small inlet.

The Hermit’s Castle was built around 1950 out of concrete and was reputedly built by an artist from the south of England to use as a retreat. From the outside, the castle looks a bit like the concrete pillboxes that you see dotted around the coastlines of Britain. It seems to grow out of the surrounding rock and could easily be overlooked if not for the distinctive windows and chimney stack.

Inside, the castle has only one very small room which has a single concrete bed and a small fireplace. The small windows let in some light but it still looks like a very damp and gloomy place to stay! Nonetheless, the castle is often used as a bothy by walkers in the area and the views from outside the castle are beautiful, particularly at sunset.

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Posted by Gavin on July 01, 2006 | Permalink | Comments (1)