Where the Spirit Goes

Greenock is a town that has long lost its glory. Built on the shores of the Clyde Estuary, it was well famed throughout the world for shipbuilding, exporting and commerce, creating some of the wealthiest merchants in Britain. Famous folk from the area include James Watt, William Kidd (or so it's claimed), Mary Campbell (Robert Burns' mistress), Richard Wilson and the great Chic Murray. Oh, and Abdel Basset al-Meghari, the Lockerbie Bomber, stayed in the local clink for four years.

With the loss of the shipbuilding industry and other local enterprises, the community has spent the last few decades descending into unemployment, poverty, extensive drug and alcohol abuse, violent crime and rapidly decreasing population.

That's not to say that it's the ugliest town in the universe. Indeed, far from it, it has a grand selection of Georgian and Edwardian villas in the west end and, of course, looks upon one of the best views in Scotland across the Clyde towards Argyll and Bute, yet any visitor to the area cannot be unaware of the estates and high rises clearly in view that show decline and desolation.

And many visitors there are too, as the town is a major port for cruise liners visiting the west of Scotland. Yesterday, the latest Cunard ship "Queen Victoria" docked at the Clydeport Terminal. It's a stark contrast to see the gleaming hull of prosperity next to the lost glory of Greenock. I took the above photo from above the town as she departed later that evening and on seeing the gutted church in the foreground, reflected on how the moral and enterprising spirit of the townspeople is gone, replaced by the spirit of leisure and indulgence on board the Italian built copy of a bygone age, and I wondered if there was any hope for the glory to ever return to this neglected area.