Happy New Year

We'll never surrender !!

Just illuminations.

So what can one do with a Halloween evening before one goes for a round of guising? What about scaring the shit out of the neighbours son! All you need is a pillowcase, two spars from a budgies cage and some log football socks. The pillowcase must first be made into a mask by cutting eye holes and a mouth hole. A bit of decoration with some felt tip pens and bobs yer auntie. The now finished mask is placed over the head and secured round the neck with sticking tape until it is a tight fit. Now the football socks have to be pulled over the shoes but not too tight so that they look like hobgoblin boots. Now after the neighbours son has been told that hobgoblins have been sighted in the area its time to lure him into the trap.
As he turns the corner and looks into the jungle he sees two hobgoblins dancing in a circle singing the hobgoblin song which goes something like this: (we will call the victim Nicky Rice which sounds quite like the real name) Nicky Rice is our victim, sacrifice Nicky Rice, whilst hitting the two spars together in time to the beat. If you are lucky then the lad will take to his heels shouting "Its just illuminations!" Oh Halloween was more fun as a lad.

Bad Hair Day

Two great fascinations of our youth were dog shite ( or Shogs Dite as my faither called it ) and bangers. Often the twin titans of childhood mirth would be brought together. I mean after all it is only natural to combine two good things to enhance both in the pursuit of greatness. Like Champagne and strawberries, Fred Astair and Ginger Rogers or the kebab pizza.

Whilst enhancing the pleasure of both however, resulting cocktails are not always without their hazards. Just ask Elvis about peanut butter and jam pieces or Gram Parsons about morphene and Tequila. The road to the perfect high is littered with failure.

So we come to the cautionary tale of poor Tam and the exploding dog shite.

Round the back of the steamie in Blackwood Crescent on a cold October night, Astra bangers and 3-2-1 zeros were flying around good style. Once the usual rounds of tenament stairwells and car exhausts had been completed, the old banger in the dog shite ritual was observed.

The "barkers nest" selected was a particularly large unhealthy specimen as I recall. Unbeknowns to poor Tam it's slight crust belied a very runny interior. He also chose to go with the inferior Astra banger, a fatal mistake which he would later regret. I myself would have chosen a Standard 3-2-1 zero for the job as the fuse reliably lived up to it's name. I'm sure Arkos and bobrob would agree with me there.

Tam inserted the infernal device in the pile of shogs and lit the fuse.
Nothing............................................

He gave it a second and returned to relight it. No sooner had the match touched the fuse when it went off, covering his head in runny shite. Now Tam was blessed with a thick head of hair, but sometimes a blessing can be a curse. This was such a time.

Devoid of anything to clean it off with, and feart of going home in that state, he opted to remove the pungent mess by rubbing his head off the harled wall of the steamie. A gesture which proved to serve no real purpose other than to hurt the already sore sides of the assembled onlookers.

Respect again to Dave Henniker and his wee goldmine of Southside photos. (click to enlarge and you will see that is the real steamie, with harled wall no less)
http://www.henniker.org.uk/

Urban exploration part 2

I was going to keep this one for a while but Arkos forced my hand a bit. So here it is.
What do you think when the doorbell goes and one of your mates is standing on the landing dressed in a black trench coat with two pairs of jeans on at the same time, because each pair has holes in a different place, rope around his shoulder like a mountaineer and a torch in his hand? Its adventure time! Although the getup is a bit outrageous nobody is looking at him outside because it is too bloody obvious to be real. So it is on the bus and down to Porty pool. Only Porty pool contains no water and we are not going swimming. Porty pool is derelict and awaiting demolition so it is bound to be worth a shuftie. Wait until no one is looking and over the wall pdq. We are a bit far away from our normal stomping grounds but it is worth the risk. A quick sprint across the empty pool and into the main building. The floor is strewn with old floats and wellies, many odd pieces of paperwork that nobody will ever read again litter most of the floor in the turnstiles area. We go through the old changing rooms first and down into the area under the pool. It is really cool in here. The old wave machine is still lurking in a corner and there are stacks of glass portholes which look out into the empty pool. A circuit of the pool later and we are back in the main building. Up the stairs into what must have been the old restaurant area with three large doors looking out onto the balcony. Suddenly a crashing sound from below as if the door has been kicked in! Visions of heavies rushing up the stairs force us out onto the balcony but where do we go from here? There is only one way and that is down! The afore mentioned rope is hastily attached to the balcony railing with sweaty hands,no one wants to be the last man standing so it is a push and a shove to get on the rope first. As the youngest I am last on the rope I am sure that I can hear footsteps on broken glass coming towards me. Hand over hand down the rope in record time with a few rope burns for my effort and off across the empty pool like a shot, over the wall and after the other lads towards the bus stop and the waiting bus! Wait a minute we left the rope, anyone fancy going back for it? No f---ig way that was a close call who knows what the Porty neds would have done to us Southside laddies. All the same it did not stop us from exploring as many derelicts as we could find.

The only way is up

Click to enlarge

Click to enlarge

Click to enlarge

Following on from Arkos' excellent piece on urban exploration, it got me thinking about another wee favourite pastime of ours. Free climbing.

Once again an example of something now considered an extreme sport for the fashionable 21st century Metrosexual type. Back in the 70's it was just something you did. We thought nothing of climbing Salisbury Crags as a short cut to Hunter's Bog, rather than trailing round the Radical Road.

These days you see posey looking lithe dudes in Lycra with fancy shoes and ropes up there. I remember doing it in Clark's Commandos with an "Adidas" schooolbag on my back. I have to admit though, from the photos it looks scarier and higher that it seemed back in the day.

Once you got to climbing there was only one way you could go, especially if the Parkie was at the bottom warning you of the dangers "yous'll brek yer necks" whilst simultaneously threatening you with physical harm "I'll fit yer erses" if you didn't come down. Nae choice really. Up won every time.

Ah, but the park was a magic place. Hunter's Bog, Dunsapie Loch for the perch fishing, the Crags with it's views of the city and watching the summer sunsets without a care in the world.

A young man could get stuck up there for hours with only his own thoughts.

Ain't that the truth Bobrob?

For more photos like the ones I nicked from the boy, check out his site. There is a cracker of Hunters Bog in the mist.

http://www.henniker.org.uk/html/views_from_crags.htm

The Lure and Allure of Empty Buildings

"God I love that smell. It's the smell of dead hospitals, you never forget it. For me, it's like chocolate. I'm utterly addicted to it. If I get a scent of dead hospital, that's it, I'm off." Quote by Rookinella, Urban Explorer

The quote above is taken from The Independent newspaper today. The title of the article is "Space Invaders, and it is all about the "latest high adrenaline cult" of sneaking into empty hospitals and factories. Hey fellow bloggers I think us lot might have been way ahead of our time. Mind you loads of other kids our ages back in the day were also probably Urban Explorers too!

But I can relate to how Rookinella, quoted above, feels and can completely understand how the smell of old, empty buildings can be so amazing. I well remember the smell of old tenement flats we used to play in & have our gang hut in, especially one room called the Curry Room due to the smell of the curry poweder which had been scattered there.

But it's not only the smell of these empty place that is so good. There is the thrill of first finding an empty building, then working out if you can get in and how you can get in. And once inside the thrills only increase, There is the feeling of walking where no one has lived for years. A feeling of seeing old familiar household objects, which belonged to previous owners, made somehow new by their gutted and ruined surroundings. And there is the thrill of "What if this building is not quite deserted?" And the thrill of walking down worn, deserted tenement steps as darkness falls, the way in front of you lit only by a guttering candle or flickering workies lamp.

In our day we explored deserted houses, factories, workshops, swimming pools and probably some I have forgotten. We often got chased out of them by security guards and vicious-looking Alsatian dogs. But that only added to the thrill! I don't think I have finished with this topic, & I am sure that bobrob or Alien Orders will also have post to add to this topic!

Never mind the scent of napalm first thing in the morning, make mine the smell of an empty building, mixed in with the smell of a burning candle and the smell of old yellowed pages from The Sunday Post opened at the Oor Wullie section!

Cheers!

Arkos

Links to explore: Rookinellas photos of places she has visited at:

www.prettyvacant.fotopic.net

And also the URL of a site for Urban Explorers to log their conquests at:

www.28dayslater.co.uk

Lost Games #5 Best Man Falls

A game from the younger High Wall days, "Best Man Falls" was a homage to the war films and westerns of John Wayne and such shows as Combat with Vic Morrow.

The group would have to re-enact a death scene based on a violent mode of demise decided by one player. An example would be "shot by a bren gun whilst running", "Flaming arrow in the ear" or "hand grenade at the top of a hill"
The list was endless and only limited by the imagination of the players. Imagination was not in short supply with 70's bairns.

The "best man" who was judged to have died in the most spectacular fashion then got to do the choosing and sound effects in the next round.

The game was best played on a slope such as found up Arthur Seat. this allowed maximum rolling to be achieved. The ulitmate venue was building sites where foundation trenches had been dug and, if you were really lucky, there was a big mound of builder's sand.

Sound effects were supplied by the players, drrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr was a machine gun ect.

Examples can be found here




Better ones can be viewed here

Lost Games #4 Insect Rollerball

A game of skill and chance and a "High Wall" favourite.

What was required was a Crossfire game and a handful of insects. There were variations of the game such as inter-species tournaments of woodlice v's beetles, earwigs v's wingless flies or the more common and straighforward "last man standing".

Crossfire was a game where metal balls were fired from red plastic guns mounted at each end of an enclosed arena.

The gathered insects would be relased in the middle of the board and the carnage would begin.
Woodlice (or slaters to give them their official High Wall title) were the best competitors due to their soft bodies and lack of speed.

The last surviving slater would be ceremoniously released to chants of "Jonathan, Jonathan, Jonathan" like in the 70's classic movie "Rollerball".

Hey it was the 70's. PETA hadn't been invented yet.

A Taste Of Summer

Aye, the nights are fair drawing in! The leaves are turning red and yellow and there is a definite nip in the air first thing in the morning. So it's time to revisit the halcyon days of youth, when the school summer holidays seemed to last forever and all you needed to make hot day complete was an ice lolly. But not just any ice lolly!

There were so many good lollies to choose from. A Lord Toffingham, with its weird gooey soft toffee centre; a Fab with reddish-pink ice covering ice-cream, dotted with hundreds and thousands at the top; a Zoom, like a craft out of Stingray or Thunderbirds; a Lolly Gobble Choc-Bomb, with a strange waxy chocolate bar stuck in the centre that tasted a bit like dog chocolate (and yes I have tasted Bob Martin's finest dog drops!). But my favourite was a Count Dracula. A black ice lolly with a white ice cream centre which was covered in "blood-red jelly". Yeah, that certainly brought a chill to a hot summer's day!

What childhood ice lollies can you remember!

More pics of other ice lollies at: www.thoseweleftbehind.co.uk/2008/05/lord-toffingham-lollies-proof.html

And: http://cobwebbedroom.blogspot.com/2007/08/count-draculas-secret-ice-lolly-ads.html

Have fun!

Greetings Grapple Fans

Wrestling was a big thing back in the day. Not that modern AmericanWWF fake pish with it's big arenas and Gangsta Rap Razamatazz, but fat men who looked like your dad, in tight leotards giving each other "dubbins to the heid".

We spent many a happy hour glued to World of Sport and pouring over wrestling magazines. Then it was out to the back green to try out Boston crabs, backbreakers, step over toe holds and, of course, ear pulling.

No-one got any real doings, that is until we went home with stretched or ripped t-shirts and irremovable grass stains on the knees of our jeans. That is when you had to duck and weave for real.

Anyway sit back, spark up your cork pipe and enjoy a few classis moments courtesy of YouTube.

Giant Haystacks v's Honey Boy Zimba


Catweazle v's Mick Mcmanus



Dave Taylor & Ironfist v's Rollerball Rocco & Kendo Nagasaki


The unmasking of Kendo Nagasaki

Missing equipment.

This was the original scudder library. Last seen in the basement gangie this world of teenage porn mostly collected from the bin across the road from the Royal Infirmary. I suppose most of the books belonged to the gynaecological department and as they became too well thumbed they were disposed of. Funny thing was they were nearly all brand new and still in the plastic bags they were sold in! I can still remember the feeling when you had spotted a scudder in the bin followed by the snatch and the run to the meadows to investigate the prize. After which the new book was placed in the library for general use. So if anyone finds the case give me a shout and I will bring the workies lamp!

Simple Vices #3 The Nude Book

The victorians had erotica, the war years had saucy postcards, the 80's had the adult video and the 21st century has internet porn.

The 70's however had the Nude Book.

For young lads trying to unravel the mysteries of the female world, Knave, Club International, H&E, Parade and Fiesta held the answers.

Often found abandoned in bins or procured from portocabins on building sites, the nude book was a possession to be treasured.

At school they were a form of currency. Like an adolescent Krugerrand, a well thumbed, dog eared "Men Only" would hold it's value and could be bartered for any number of goods.

A good gangie always had a library section with nude books, horror comics and wrestling mags.

Studying these under the glow of a workie's lamp, one could impart made up pearls of knowledge and down-right lies to younger members of the company.

In the days before the craze for "Brazilian" style minimalism, the most intimate parts of a woman would stare back at you from the page like Brian Blessed hiding in Terry Waites allotment.

A daunting and terrifying prospect for any young lad.

Standard equipment #2

This was the ultimate insect killer. Purloined from the lock-up of a painter and decorator this paraffin fuelled blow lamp was the best flame thrower you could find. Made of brass and weighing in at around 2 kilos this thing was nearly indestructible. Used mainly in action around the high wall, many insects and plastic models fell prey to its hot kiss. Quite surprising is that no one was injured during operations. This blow lamp replaced the small plastic squeezy bottles which were previously used for such purposes.

Simple Vices #2 Sperkin'

This must be one of the most obscure childhood pastimes ever.

Invented by Arkos, Sperkin' was a practice of detonating roll caps with your thumb nail and inhaling the resulting smoke. The idea being that you could get enough smoke in your mouth to blow a smoke ring.

There were the inevitable burns to the tips of your thumb and the nail would have a whitish/ yellowish deposit of saltpeter and singed nail.

To get the smoke you had to fire the cap directly into your mouth.

As you can see the box clearly says "do not fire closer than one foot to the ear".

I used to be pretty good at Sperkin', wouldnae mind another shot at it.

Standard equipment

These were the matches of choice when we were kids. No lighters in those days. A constant supply of matches was necessary for lighting the workies lamp or candles, for starting fires, for lighting fags and last but not least for making a tank. A tank was usually called for when we got bored or when taking the matches home was too dangerous. To make a tank you opened the match box slightly at the end where the heads of the matches were.One match was tken out, struck and stuck flame first into the other match heads. The resulting conflagration was supposed to resemble a burning tank. Good stuff. A strong smell of sulphur and a lot of smoke , just what the doctor ordered! Short lived but still bloody good fun.

High Wall Couture #2 Wayfinder Moonshots

Click image to enlarge

Hey Kids make tracks up the lobby in Wayfinders. Stand in a dogshite in these bad boys and you certainly will.

But who could resist shoes with a compass in the heel. The very dab for expeditions to far flung places like "the donkeys" or Hunters Bog. Yep leaving the well charted area around the High Wall could be tretcherous, best be prepared.

The main drawback of these timeless classics were the moon crater soles. There was less emphasis in cleaning up after your dog in the 1970's, in fact most seemed to wander free like wildebeest of the Serengeti or buffallo of the Great Plains.

Dog eggs were in abundance, including those now obsolete white ones. Standing in them was inevitable. You could use up a whole box of Vulcan Household matches scraping out the craters in the front street after being banished by your irate Ma to "get them cleaned".

Occassionally you would get lucky and stand on a hard plastic "Dirty Fido", but most of the time it was the real McCoy.

Still a risk worth taking just to have shoes with a compass.

Simple vices

It wasn't always easy to get fags or baccy in our day. Cinnamon sticks were not a bad smoke but even they were not so easy to come by. So we followed Tom Sawyers lead and made a corn cob pipe. Well sort of! We had no corn cobs so we used a cork. Wine bottle or Sparkling wine the bigger the better. If it was too small it was difficult to hollow out without the sides breaking through. As a stem we used a bic pen. Out with the insides and inserted into the side of the hollowed out cork. So now bobs yer uncle. Anything that gave of a good smoke could be tamped into the pipe bowl. Dry leaves were a pretty good puff and each tree had a different taste. Tea taken out of teabags was not too bad either. But best of all was baccy collected from fag butts, kept in an old baccy tin which was hidden in a hole in a wall. What a great feeling firing up the pipe, tongue burning, eyes nippin and a feeling like you are just about to boke! Those were the days.

Bizarre 70's Edinburgh footage

Niddroids were obviously on mind bending drugs even back then.
Still good bit of footage for a reminder of the fashions of the day.

High Wall Couture #1 The Snake Belt

One of the most versatile clothing accessories ever made. When they were new they had a bit of ping in them, but that soon went due to hooking the "S" on to railings to see if it could double as a "Japs & Commandos" grappling hook.

Also used as a "Planet of the Apes" "Dr Who" style tether for captured humans.

Came in a variety of school colours from the Clan Hoose or Parker's Store.

Lost games #3

Another lost game, this time a short lived one. In the Queens park there used to be sheep. That's right, the woolly buggers were all over the place. All they did all day was eat, eat, eat. Which meant that they also shat, shat ,shat. So one man in the group was armed with a stick and the others armed themselves with purlies. Throw the purly at the guy with the stick he had to bat it away and the thrower had to avoid being hit by pieces of flying purly. Sounds easy doesn't it? The real problem was grabbing a purly that wasn't too fresh at least not on the outside. Grab a fresh one and you really had a hand full and it was a long way to the next washing facility. Shortly after this game was invented the sheep disapeared from the park. No more sheep, no more purlies and no more game without a name.

Lost Weapons #3 The Sekiden Gun

The Sekiden Automatic (SAP.50) Running Fire X.

This was the AK47 of the 1970's primary school bairn.

Many a territorial dispute was settled with these bad boys.

Dora Buckle was the Lockheed Martin of the Southside selling arms and ammunition to anyone with the coppers to spare.

But what we really wanted was this.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZPlMCaMGTnM

The world inside a golf ball.

I don't quite know what a golf ball looks like inside any more, but when we were kids they looked like this. After you had peeled off the outer cover (the white dimply stuff) you were into the rubber winding. This was like an endless rubber band about as long as from here to the moon! It pretty much had a mind of its own. Some times it tried to unravel itself really quickly and other times you had to peel the stuff off bit by bit. The windings had their uses. You could stretch them between the gate posts of the Dick vet and wait for cars to drive through them or stretch them across stair wells so that people would run into them. As they were not very strong they caused no damage. After you had peeled off all the rubber windings you reached the core. This was not made of hard rubber but was a rubber ball filled with fluid rubber. The stuff was like pus! It was thick and it stank, get this stuff on yer jeans and you are in for a thrashing! Why it had to be a fluid I don't know. Many a day was spent seeing who could peel the ball the slowest, and who had the stinkiest core!

Essensial Pocket-money purchases #1

The "Dirty Fido".

Still a favourite of children throughout the world. These days they have a more lifelike texture and flexibility. Ah but the hours of fun we had with the rigid plastic "old school" version.

A must for the discerning 70's youth. Came in a plastic bag with a header card featuring a cowering cartoon dog about to get a severe doin' with a rolled up newspaper if I recall.

Gangie names

If you were to have found this mirror in your new gangie, what name would you have given the gangie or the gang?

Lost Weapons #2 The Haston Cannnon

" It was a fine idea at the time, now it's a brilliant mistake"
Elvis Costello, 1986

Picture an ash carpark, a dark November 70's Edinburgh night, local youths huddled round for the great unveiling of a new weapon of unyeilding power.

It's inventor, a gangly youth with thick hair, removes from his pocket a small model of a naval cannon with pencil sharpening capabilities. Packed tightly inside the cannon are the contents of a packet of Standard 3-2-1-zeros ( the banger of choice) and a small fake pearl which was once part of a mother's earring.

Excitement hangs in the cold air like the smoke from so many tenament chimneys. "This will be barry" is the general concensus.

After a long series of checks the shottie keepers give the all clear. The fuse is lit and the weapon aimed.

What happened next is still inexplicable. There was the anticipated flash and bang, but the pearl's trajectory was not as it should have been. When the smoke abated the blackened face of the inventor was streaked with tears and 2 lines of green snot. On the left side of his nose was a bulge about the size of a plastic pearl. It was lodged up his nostril and not for coming out without adult assistance.

This my friends is the true story of the "Haston Cannnon"

The High Wall

Just found this poster its a film that I had never heard of before. It fits the blog though, the gadgie looks like he is having trouble getting over the High Wall. Or maybe he needs a colonic!

Lost games #2

Time for another lost game, Brickie. To take part in this game each player required a brick or as we would have called them, a full Niddrie. Each player took a turn at throwing his brick at the opponents brick which was placed on the ground. The objective being to break the opponents brick before he destroyed yours. A bit like stone age conkers. Usually played out of the sight of grown ups or the odd slap around the head would have been on the cards. There was a similar game using slates called Slatey which was only played once. The rule about keeping out of the way of grown ups was not observed, which resulted in one hell of an arse footing by a bearded dude in workies boots. After which Slatey was slated.

Meggind yeggour Legganguage

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Language_game

Feggoung theggis eggon Weggikipeggedia.

Fegguckin' beggarry.

Nomen est omen

Just a quick thought here. Can anyone remember how we used to give people a name that was probably no where near their real name than fly in the air. For example: there was an old chap who lived in a ground floor flat which had a large back green which we called the jungle. This old boy was quite old and what was left of his hair was white. What did we used to call him? Mr White of course. The guy in the garden next door had curly hair, guess what his name was! Can you think of any other fitting names?

Lost Weapons #1 Home made nunchuks

Bruce Lee, David Carradine and Carl Douglas, in the 70's everybody was "Kung Fu fighting"

Therefor the Home made Nunchuk was born

A chain stolen from a lavvie cystern.

Your Ma's broom/rake/hoe handle sawn into lenghts

A couple of nails and Boab's yer uncle."You will have someones eye out with that".

Advantages - Cheap and available.

Drawbacks - Flimsy chain liable to snap, Handles flew of regularly as the nails were traditionally hammered in with a half niddrie, Splinters in the newly created blisters on your hands. Hitting yourself in the eye, back of head, knee and baws. Getting a thick ear when your ma went to rake the back green a week later.

Ah but they looked the part

"Those cats were fast as lightning"

Lost Games

All those parents who were wondering what to do with their kids in the summer holidays, could have taken a page out of our book!
Using just the two items shown in the picture a fun game for all ages can begin. Each player has a tennis ball and a footie sock. The ball is placed inside the sock at the toe end and the open end is grasped firmly in the hand. Each player now attempts to hit the other players head by swinging the sock violently in a circular motion. The only protection allowed would be at the most an empty cardboard box with cut out eye holes placed over the noggin. But beware, should the box slip and obstruct the field of vision then you are in for a hammering! Apart for a swollen ear or two and the odd headache ther is not a lot to worry about. A real character building game if ever ther was one. More fun by combining household items still to come so stay tuned.

No more "See You Next Saturday"

A wee trip down memory lane.

Many a good Saturday at the Super Saturday Show with a Kiora jubilee and an everlasting toffee stick.
http://www.cftf.org.uk/

Sneaking in the back door during the summer holidays to see "Herbie" ride again & again & again......

Clash gigs where the place looked like Hurricane Joe had been through it at the end, withoot a seat left in the place.

In a word "Barry"

Workie's lamps

Following on from previous comments here is the "workies lamp" of our youth compared with it's hi-tec counterpart of these days.

No real comparison. Stingy eyes and black reek and just enough light to read an H&E, wrestling mag or horror comic.

These things were freely available in the area around the High Wall. Cheap and efficient with a handy hanging hook.

Just the job for a poorly ventilated gangie strewn with old bits of paper. They are known as "paraffin hazard lamps" Don't know why, they seemed perfectly safe to us.

Try lighting a cinnamon stick with one of the new fangled ones. I rest my case.

Ladies with the purple hair, come in please.

Ladies with the purple hair come in please !!!

The acress is Gabrielle Drake (sister of Nick Drake)

But where does the quote come from ?

Eh Gar ?

Aye Gar !

A book at bedtime

HERE TODAY - The best bits.

"he was small, pale and insignificant. His narrow face wore a sly, perpetual smirk, giving the observer the impression that he was the possessor of dark and sinister secrets that were a source of constant amusement."

"A dry chuckle escaped from his yellow teeth."

" He took a small bag and immense torch from the car"

" My torch! It will be annoying if it doesn't work. Ah, a little shake does wonders"

"candles are the answer"

Old time movies

How many can you name?

Much respect to botda666. He's even got the full answers if you click on (more info).

Welcome to the High Wall

Co-ordinates

55° 56' 24.38” N, 3° 10' 51.63” W

or paste in 55.940077,-3.181042 (this will show ye the green arrow in google maps satellite view)

Paste into Google Earth or Google maps and let the journey begin.

The High Wall