When we got there about we found film crew members going about their business outside the house that was the set, and a handful of onlookers with the same intentions as ourselves.

After we had braved the rather inclement weather for some time, Nicole Kidman came out of the house and got into her chauffeur-driven Mercedes, apparently to make a costume change elsewhere.

After a brief moment of excitement, it was back to watching dogs running on the beach behind us, looking at equipment and sheltering as best we could from the wind and rain.

Nicole Kidman returned a short while later, resplendent in another beige and brown 1940s costume hidden beneath her down jacket, and was whisked off inside. It wasn’t long before she reappeared, off for another costume change.

There was a lot of good-natured banter going on between the fans and the crew, an one of the crew members passed out mint humbugs to the would-be celebrity spotters at one point. The next door neighbours were having fun too, taunting us with a photo of Colin Firth in the window!

It became apparent from talking to one of the crew that Colin Firth wasn’t on set, but would be making an appearance later on. We waited and waited, but still there was no sign of him. Thoroughly cold and wet, we decided to knock the celebrity spotting on the head, and walked back to the car at the end of the promenade.

Driving back towards the set we got stuck in a convoy of chauffeur-driven Mercedes, and it became apparent that we were following Colin Firth. We parked the car at the next car park along and ran back to the set, only to discover that we’d missed him by a matter of seconds!

We decided that it might be worth sticking it out a bit longer after all, and the monotony of standing around was broke temporarily by the reappearance of Nicole Kidman. We were getting a bit blasé about her, this being the fifth time we’d seen her today, but on this occasion she stopped to sign autographs.

One of the security guards told us that filming would most probably finish at 8pm, as that was when they were contracted to, so we hung on a bit longer. Just after 8, to the delight of Yana and the gaggle of teenage girls, Colin Firth emerged from the house.

He was the consummate professional, posing for photographs, signing autographs, and dishing out hugs to his admiring fans.

Finally, the moment Yana had been waiting for, she got to have her photo taken with Colin Firth.

We drove out west past the airport to Newbridge, a village that has become somewhat dwarfed by a large industrial estate and the junction between the M8 and M9 motorways.

On the east edge of Newbridge is a large barrow known as Huly Hill, which was originally surrounded by an ellipse of standing stones, of which only three now remain standing.

The standing stones range from 1.3 metres to 2.1 metres in height, with the smallest one likely to have been broken at some point in history. Of the two taller stones, one is very rectangular with a square top, while the other is a more pointed shape.

Despite the motorways and industrial estate nearby, Huly Hill is more peaceful than you might imagine. Except it’s right under the flight path for Edinburgh airport, so the relative peace is interrupted every few minutes by planes descending overhead!

A bit closer to Edinburgh and also under the flight path, right at the west end of the runway, is the site of Hallyards Castle.

Built in the 17th century by the Skene family as an L-plan tower house surrounded by a courtyard wall, Hallyards Castle stood on a raised promontory which is now wooded. A path leads through the wood to the castle site.

By the end of the 19th century the castle was a substantial ruin, still standing to third floor height with the chimneys still intact. But subsidence from mining in the early 20th century caused large sections of the walls to fall down, and that process continued for many years.

Today there is nothing much to be seen besides some mounds in the ground, overgrown and amorphous.

In winter it is apparently possible to see some rubble from the walls, but with the onset of spring the plants take over and hide anything that’s left. Parts of the courtyard wall still exist, hidden inside banks of earth to the south and east of the site, but whether or not those are the lumps and bumps I took photos of I’m not sure!

From Hallyards Castle we moved east along the A8 to Castle Gogar.

There has probably been a castle at Gogar since the 13th century, however the present castle was built in 1625 by John Cowper for him and his wife, Helen Skene (of the Skenes of Hallyards Castle).

Another L-plan tower house, it passed through a number of families before being bought by William Ramsay of Barnton in 1789. It remained in the same family for over 200 years, until the death of Lady Steel-Maitland, a descendant of the Ramsays, in 2003.

Castle Gogar was restored by new owners, and a development of luxury properties built within the castle’s extensive grounds. The castle itself was recently put up for sale with an asking price of £3.5 million. As befits such an expensive property, it is surrounded by high walls, trees, and large gates, making photography rather difficult!

Gogar is the location of the depot for Edinburgh’s new trams, and the tram test track crosses the driveway to Castle Gogar. No trams running today, and with the project not due for completion until 2014, none likely any time soon!

Built between 1750 and 1754, Marchmont House was commissioned by Hugh Hume-Campbell, the 3rd Earl of Marchmont, and designed by the architect Thomas Gibson.

The 3rd Earl’s father, Alexander Hume-Campbell, the 2nd Earl of Marchmont, had commissioned William Adam to design a new house in 1724, and make improvements to their previous home, Redbraes Castle.

But the Earl decided against the new house due to the expense, and only went ahead with remodelling Redbraes and improving the surrounding lands. Whether this was to the designs of Adam or someone else is unknown.

As part of those landscaping improvements, in 1726 he began planting the Great Avenue with 10,000 Dutch elm trees. Stretching some 1.3 miles (2.1km), it is thought to be the longest avenue in Scotland. The photo below is taken from the centre of the estate, with Marchmont House behind and the Great Avenue disappearing over the horizon.

Turning around, this is the view back to the house.

At the end of the Great Avenue, acting as a distant focal point for the house, is a doocot, built in 1749, and possibly designed by William Adam.

We drove back through the estate, to have a look at the ruins of Redbraes Castle. On our way we had to deal with a pedestrian crossing our path.

Not much is left of Redbraes Castle, just a section of wall standing to first floor height, and fragments of the returning walls.

What’s left doesn’t really hint at the scale and grandeur of what went before, but I suppose when you look at Marchmont House it shouldn’t come as a surprise.

It was home to the Humes of Polwarth from probably the mid-16th century until Marchmont House was completed in 1754. Prior to that they lived at Polwarth Castle, and possibly also at another property called Mains House.

We left the estate the same way that we had come in, through woodland on the way to Greenlaw.

At the very east end of Greenlaw is the site of Tenandry House, a castle which probably dated back to at least the 15th century. Nothing of it now remains, but it once stood on a ridge next to The Moat caravan park.

To the south of Greenlaw the site of Greenlaw Castle is marked by a solitary ash tree.

Greenlaw is an ancient settlement, possibly dating back to the 10th century, and Greenlaw Castle is thought to have built Greenlaw Castle early in the 13th century.

A few miles from Greenlaw are the ruins of Old Thirlestane Castle, of which there is a bit much more to see than the previous two castles.

Old Thirlestane Castle, so named to distinguish it from Thirlestane Castle in Lauder, stands on a terrace above the Boondreigh Water and was built by the Maitland family in the 15th century.

The majority of the ruins consist of the south wall, inside which a number of interior features can be seen, including what looks like the remains of a spiral staircase down to the basement.

On the other side of the wall is a stair tower, which gave access to the upper floors.

In the west wall of the stair tower is what appears to be a blocked up doorway.

Traces of the other walls can be seen as raised mounds in the ground extending to the north. To the north-west of the castle are a series of lumps and bumps which clearly define other buildings.

One of these banks extends west from the north corner of the castle, and then returns to the south-west enclosing a rectangular building in the north-west corner. It looks like it may well be a courtyard wall, with an ancillary building butted up against the inside of it.

The clouds had been looking heavy all afternoon, so we headed back across the fields to the car before the rain they’d been threatening started to fall.

The Braid Burn rises in the Pentland Hills, and makes its way down to the southern edge of Edinburgh before turning east through Duddingston and out into the Forth at Portobello.

Sitting in the depths of the valley, hidden from the surrounding area, is an 18th century mansion called Hermitage of Braid, built for Charles Gordon of Cluny by Robert Burn.

Immediately behind the house are rocky cliffs which rise sharply, and on one of the crags are the substantial remnants of an old wall. These may be connected with an 18th century walled garden, or they may be part of the defences of Braid Castle.

Braid Castle was built in the 12th century on the plateau above Hermitage of Braid by a Flemish knight named Sir Henry de Brad, and was apparently still occupied until the 18th century. Nothing of it now remains, and it’s exact location has been lost, but it seems to have stood somewhere between the new house and the 17th century doocot, which still stands.

The doocot is the second largest in Edinburgh, and contains almost 2000 nesting boxes.

To the east of the doocot is a section of wall, which would appear to be part of a 17th or 18th century walled garden which is known to have existed here. An entrance through the wall looks decidedly older however, and certainly has the appearance of 16th or 17th century castle or house doorway built into a later wall.

Continuing east along the top of the rocky crags there are wide, flattish areas, now overgrown with trees, which would appear to be a fine position for the old Braid Castle.

Following this footpath brings you out onto Midmar Paddock, another supposed but unlikely location for Braid Castle. Aerial photos of the Paddock revealed undisturbed rig and furrow systems, meaning a castle here is unlikely. It is also very overlooked by Blackford Hill, up which we started to climb.

As we reached the crest of the hill, we were rewarded with the sight of a rainbow arcing across the dark grey sky.

To our south-east Liberton Tower was being illuminated by the low winter sun.

While to our north Edinburgh Castle was looking resplendent, basking in the golden glow of the falling sun.

To the east of the Castle, Arthur’s Seat was rising, ever present, against the backdrop of the Forth and the North Sea.

With such fantastic light it was crying out for a panorama. Clicking on the image below will open the panorama in a new window.

Descending from Blackford Hill we had a good view over Midmar Paddock, a supposed site for Braid Castle. There is a large, roughly circular, low mound, now topped with trees, which looks like an almost believable location.

But given that it this site is so overlooked, and the evidence for the castle having been sited above the Hermitage of Braid (including a map from 1735 which shows it further west along the Braid Burn), it seems likely that this tree covered mound is the remains of something else.

Dunipace first appears on record in the 12th century, in a document from Pope Alexander III to Geoffrey, the Abbot of Dunfermline, which mentions “the chapel of the castle of Dunipace”. The chapel seems to have been dedicated to St Alexander, and it and the surrounding lands were owned by the Abbey of Cambuskenneth.

Although the chapel has now gone, there is still a graveyard here today. As well as the more modern cemetery, there is also an older burial ground tucked away in a corner, shrouded in trees. Although certainly not 12th century, there are a couple of headstones dating back to the 17th century, and beyond the graveyard is Dunipace motte, one of the Hills of Dunipace.

This is probably the site of the first castle at Dunipace, the one mentioned in the 12th century, and may have taken the form of a small wooden or stone tower perched on top of the hill. Nothing of it now remains, and the motte is covered in trees.

Not far from this motte is another of the Hills of Dunipace, but this one is longer and of a less uniform shape. Also covered in trees, it has been proposed as another possible site for the earliest castle at Dunipace.

It may of course be that there was a castle on both hills, a small one on the smaller hill first, followed by a bigger one on the larger hill when the site became more important. Without any clear documentary evidence however, this is just conjecture.

In the 15th century the Abbey of Cambuskenneth sold the lands of Dunipace to the Livingston family, and it may well have been around this time that a new Dunipace Castle was built.

Again, there seems to be a lack of historical references to this newer castle, but at least some of this one still survives. All that now remains is an octagonal stair tower, which was left standing and converted into a dovecot when the castle was demolished and replace by Dunipace House, probably in the 18th century. The tower stands at the corner of a field, hidden from the cemetery by a screen of trees.

At its base is a blocked entrance doorway, and on the next face of the octagon is a bricked up window.

Projecting from the side of the tower are the remains of a wall, indicating that this stair tower was inserted into the re-entrant angle of an L-shaped building.

On the inside of this wall, which would have been the inside of the castle, is an arched doorway, also blocked, which, from the style of the masonry around it, looks like it would have given access from the stair tower into a vaulted basement. Further up the tower is a doorway which would have given access to the first floor.

The opposite wall of the re-entrant angle has partly collapsed, leaving a large hole in the side of the tower.

Clambering up the rubble into the tower reveals that the stairs have been removed, and replaced with nesting boxes.

It’s a shame that more of the history of Dunipace isn’t known, but what is left offers a tantalising window into the past.

Walking back to the car, we spotted some purple crocuses growing beside some mossy logs.

Further on was a carpet of snowdrops. It seems that this is the closest thing we’re going to get to snow during this mild winter!

Carberry Tower is a substantial early 16th century tower – probably incorporating the remains of an earlier castle – to which extensive 19th and early 20th century additions have been made.

The tower rises to a height of three storeys plus an attic, and is topped off with a crenelated parapet, on the north-west corner of which is an iron basket used for lighting fire beacons.

Just below the parapet level is a carved detail running around the tower, featuring what look like small winged faces, now disfigured after centuries of weathering. There are also stone drainage chutes carved to look like figures, the water pouring through the mouth.

Unusually the battlements of the tower feature gun loops, which is something I don’t think I’ve seen before, and it may be that they were a later addition (although the gun loops themselves do look old).

Attached to the tower is a tall narrow stair tower, thought to have been added in the late 16th century, surmounted by a caphouse, flag pole and Saltire.

Around the back of the tower, it can be seen that the newer additions create a U shape, and a low range has been built across the open end, forming an enclosed courtyard.

In the castle’s gardens, snowdrops are starting to appear, the only snowy things we saw all day.

Beside the tower are several old yew tress, bathed in golden light from the low winter sun.

We took a momentary break from hotels next, stopping to take a long distance photo of Monkton House.

The main building of Monkton House is a mansion house built in 1680, but incorporating the bottom of a 16th century (or earlier) tower. In front of it is a stable block which was originally an L-shaped building built in 1625, and attached to the main house by a wing which has since been removed.

In a field next to Monkton House, some sheep were browsing, the ground flooded in peachy hues.

We were back onto the castle hotels next, moving on to Melville Castle nearby. I wasn’t sure if we’d be able get access as I’d read that it was being redeveloped ahead of being reopened in March.

But the gates were open, so we drove on in. Although there was a car parked at the front of the castle, there didn’t appear to be anyone around to ask, so we just took a few pictures quickly.

The current building, commissioned by Henry Dundas (later the first Viscount Melville), was completed in 1791 to a design by James Playfair. But it replaced a much earlier castle, possibly dating back as far as the 12th century, which was demolished to make way for its successor. The foundations of the old castle were discovered during renovation work in 1993.

Above the main entrance is a carved panel carrying the arms of the Dundas family.

Carberry Tower and Melville Castle are just two of the many castle hotels in Scotland, more of which can be seen here.

Once again the sun was low in the sky and shining brightly, and when we arrived at Rosyth Castle the sun was directly behind it, making it difficult to photograph straight on.

The sun was the least of our worries however. As we were wandering around in front of the castle we noticed a sign saying “No Trespassing”, so being a law-abiding citizen I went to a nearby Portakabin at the entrance to the Port of Rosyth, and asked the lone security guard if it would be ok to take some pictures of the castle.

The answer was a resolute “No”, apparently due to “security reasons” connected with the port. I thought he was joking at first, but he was serious. This is the first time I’ve ever been refused permission to take photos of a castle. A castle which is right on the perimeter of the port site, with no high fences keeping out undesirables, and seemingly nothing of any interest or sensitivity anywhere nearby.

I’m sure Forth Ports will be delighted to know they have such dedicated staff protecting their top secret property. Staff who are so on the ball they didn’t notice us arrive, park the car, and walk around such a sensitive site taking photos for a good 5 minutes (before noticing the sign), and continued to be completely unaware of our presence until I knocked on his door.

So away we went, moving uphill slightly for a more distant view of the castle.

Although a ruin, Rosyth Castle is a substantial one, with the main 15th century tower still standing to its full height. There are plenty of architectural details to be seen too, including interesting window surrounds, presumably a later Renaissance addition, and space for armorial panels above a entrance into the courtyard.

The hill which was serving as our vantage point is home to the castle’s doocot. Also built in the 16th century, it has crow-stepped gables, a stone roof, a barrel-vaulted ceiling and an interesting snake motif carved over the entrance.

Interestingly Rosyth Castle used to be completely surrounded by water, standing on a rocky island in the Forth. It wasn’t until some time after the Admiralty bought the coastline here in 1903 and began a land reclamation project that the castle became landlocked. I have yet to ascertain whether the doocot was also on the island, or isolated from the castle on the shore.

From our slightly raised position there was a great view of the bridges, with the Forth Road Bridge in the foreground and the iconic red Forth Bridge behind it.

We continued north-west from here, deeper into Fife, and to the village of Crossford. On the edge of the village is Dunfermline Golf Club, whose clubhouse is the rather magnificent Pitfirrane Castle.

In stark contrast to our experience at Rosyth Castle, upon asking permission at the Club shop we were told to feel free to wander around taking photos.

Consisting of a 15th century tower which was extended upwards and outwards in 1583, the later main entrance was on the west side, next to which an old “yett”, or iron gate, has been mounted, thought to date from 1583.

Above the doorway is a carved coat of arms for the Halkett family, the former owners of Pitfirrane Castle, with the mottos “Fides sufficit” and “Honeste vivo” (Faith is sufficient, I live by my honour).

In the 19th century further additions were made to the castle, and in the 20th century a rather unsympathetic extension was built, now housing the clubhouse’s bar.

While it may not be in keeping with the rest of the castle’s style, the large windows on the bar give its occupants great views out over the golf course, with the added interest of a 16th century sundial in the foreground.

Above the bar’s roof, in the re-entrant angle between the old 15th century tower and the 16th century staircase wing (and presumably above the original 16th century entrance), are two further carved armorial panels.

The upper panel appears to be the arms of Scotland, while the lower combines the Halkett and Hepburn coats of arms, with the initials GH and IH, commemorating the marriage of George Halkett to Isabel Hepburn in 1576.

Looking at the east side of the castle reveals a mix of styles from various centuries, showing how the building developed over the years.

While on the north side, the low 19th century additions are clearly distinct from the main 15th and 16th century block to which they’re attached.

After a slightly disappointing start at Rosyth Castle, the day finished on a high note with the golden walls and warm welcome at Pitfirrane Castle.

I wasn’t completely sure what access would be like, as my usual tool in these matters, Google Maps, shows empty land around the tower, but with an overlay of a street plan. Clearly a newish housing estate has been built here, as can be seen from the Street View, and while the castle is just next to the Fife Coastal Path, I didn’t know how much of it we’d have to walk in order to reach it!

As it happened, there was easy access from the south end of Inchkeith Crescent, where a path leads down to join the Fife Coastal Path.

On the way down the path we spotted something large sitting on the rocks just off the coast, huddled against the bitter cold. It wasn’t clear what it was with the naked eye, but as we guessed it turned out to be a heron.

At the end of the same rocks was a small seal, balanced precariously and seemingly sunning itself, apparently oblivious to the disappearing sun and freezing temperatures.

After a good few minutes watching the wildlife, we approached the tower from the south, where the majority of the walls have fallen, revealing the vaulted basement and the floors above.

The castle stands on a rocky platform below cliffs, and these rocks continue down towards and into the water. They appear to be a red sandstone, with quite a vibrant colour and distinctive strata.

We’d set off rather late, and the sun was starting to set by the time we arrived. But for once our tardiness was rewarded, with beautiful golden hues in the sky over the Forth and the Midlothian coast on the horizon.

As we stood on the rocks, the seal made another appearance, staring inquisitively at us.

Looking back up the rocks we were standing on, the castle’s position at the top of them is clear.

Approaching the castle from the east there is a large hole in the wall where the original entrance into the basement level presumably once existed.

Passing through this arch leads you into the basement. This has obviously filled up with sand and mud over the years, and you find yourself standing probably a couple of metres above the original floor level. As the wooden floors have all rotted away, there’s an uninterrupted view up through the tower, with a chimney in the north wall stretching the full height from first floor level.

The west wall is largely intact, with corbels, a doorway and a small chimney still visible.

With the light now fading fast, and the wind chill really starting to bite, we made our way back up the path, and headed for home, pausing on the way to take a photo of the setting sun.

We celebrated last night with a meal at David Bann‘s vegetarian restaurant, then watched Edinburgh’s Hogmanay fireworks from our street.

To blow away the cobwebs and start 2012 in the way we mean to go on, we climbed Arthur’s Seat – along with hundreds of other people. Despite the drizzle it was obviously a popular thing to do!

We took our first breather at St. Anthony’s Chapel, overlooking St. Margaret’s Loch.

Then it was onwards and upwards! In the end we didn’t go all the way to the top, stopping at the shoulder just before the summit as the rain got heavier.

The views over Edinburgh really are spectacular, even on such a dreich day.

Despite the grey clouds, this being Scotland there were inevitably blue skies at the same time, and the half moon was clearly visible.

As we reached the foot of the hill, the sun was well and truly setting over the cityscape.

Nestled away in a bend of the Water of Leith to the west of Craiglockhart, it is one of the many, but lesser known, castles in Edinburgh. Or at least it used to be, the last remains of the castle having been used to build Redhall House nearby.

Redhall House was built in 1758 for George Inglis of Auchendinny, and used the red sandstone from Redhall Castle behind a harled exterior.

It was later acquired by the Edinburgh Corporation and became a children’s home, then schools were built in the grounds. In 2007 Redhall House and the surrounding land were sold to a developer, and a new housing estate was built, although plans to convert Redhall House into flats didn’t come to fruition, and it now stands empty and neglected. The windows are boarded up with plywood, although bathed in the golden light from the low winter sun they gave a welcome soft edge to the grey harling.

Despite looking contemporary with the rest of the house, the grand Classical porch was actually added around 1900, when the west wing was also added.

Around the back, out of the sun and into the shadows, the house gives off a more depressed air, with broken windows adding to the feeling of neglect.

It seems such a shame that Redhall House stands seemingly in a generally good condition, with so many period details intact, but with its potential unrealised.

The site of Redhall Castle itself is a roughly round promontory approximately 90m to the north-west of Redhall House. Now just covered with overgrown grass, the edge of the site is ringed by trees, beyond which are steep drops down to the Water of Leith.

This perfect defensive position meant that it was a strategically important castle in days gone by, and in 1650 it was attacked by Oliver Cromwell. An attack from which it never recovered.

We made our way down off the promontory and through the trees, taking a rough path down to the river below. A riverside walk here follows the Water of Leith all the way from the village of Balerno outside Edinburgh, through the city to Leith itself. However we just used it for a brief glimpse of the river, before climbing back up the hill.

A couple of hundred metres to the north-east of Redhall House is a mid-18th century doocot, accessed by a path along the edge of the housing estate.

Taking an unusual hexagonal form, it has niches on its south-east side which presumably would originally have been windows out of which the doves could fly. Unlike Redhall House itself, this is something that has actually been restored by the developers.

The north-west side of the doocot is of far more interest, to me at least, as built into that side is a 16th century armorial panel from Redhall Castle.

The arms are those of Sir Adam Otterburn, a lawyer and diplomat who inherited Redhall Castle in 1533, and was the King’s Advocate from 1524 until 1538, as well as being Lord Provost of Edinburgh several times between 1522 and 1547.

With the light fading, and increasingly lumpy rain falling (which overnight would turn to the first snow of the winter in Edinburgh), we made our way back to the warmth of the car.