One Man's Notes

Our luck seems to be holding. After an interesting day doing some of the sights of Glasgow, including the Lighthouse (more of which later) and the St Mungo Museum up by the Cathedral, we headed back out to Prestwisk to pick up the car. We got upgraded for free. So, I’m trundling aboud the highways and byways of Scotland in a car that’s a whole lot bigger than Zoe and more comfortable to boot. Hurrah.

The Lighthouse was an interesting experience, mainly because I’d been round it while it was under construction when doing a feature on Glasgow architecture. The finished product was visually impressive if culturally unispiring. The exhibitions were lacking in the innovation and excitement promised by the intial idea, and I couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed as I left. The single best part was a DVD exhibition of how avant garde architects in Japan are trying to find new and interesting soultions to the housing crisis over there. Some of the thought process that produced alternative ways of looking at urban development were fascinating and thought provoking, even if some of the results were rather sterile. It’s a concept that it might be worth examining in EG.

St Mungo was fascinating for reasons I’ll delve into another time.

Anyway, I’m now sat in the second hotel of the trip, converted from the old boys school up by Stirling Castle. I can hear a piper piping away in the distance while Lorna sleeps off breakfast. Grey clouds are scudding over the Ochils in the distance and I can just see, in the distance, the area where I spent most of my childhood. I’m looking forward to going back.

Glasgow clubbing, or at least the part of it that we saw last night, is something else. For a start, it’s just about the first time in my life that I’ve felt too old to be in a club - and that’s not just my recent birthday talking. As Lorna said, some of the men will be quite attractive when they hit puberty. As for the women, well, London has this bad habit of twisting your perceptions as to what normal women are. To quote Lorna again: “These women wouldn’t be out clubbing in London, they’d be at home crying until they were thinner.”

You know what? Although there was more flesh on show than I prefer (proto-Victorian that I am sometimes) and far too many flabby, bulging stomachs emerging from hipsters and cropped tops, the women seemed happy with themselves, and that has to be a good thing.

The other curious difference was the behavior of men and women on the dance floor. In London, women relax and have fun while the men preen, show off and try to get attention. Here, it’s exactly the other way round. I don’t know if that reflect the relevant power levels within the dating scene, but it was an unexpected switch around.

Well, we’re still in the suite at the hotel. It’s still a result!

Well, I’m in Glasgow and it’s damn good to be back in Scotland. There’s a crispness to the cold up here that just feels right to my system and I always feel a sense of returning home when I leave the airport because of that.

Yesterday was not a great day. London’s public transport system was conspiring to mak my life more difficult that it really ought to be. Three separate transport problems made my journeys into minor nightmares. I’m not gonna dwell on that, though. Instead, I’m going to talk about my holiday. Be glad I don’t have slides to show you.

The flight was a dream. Given that it cost us less than the price of the tickets to the airport (Stanstead, if you care) we did well there. Admittedly, Lorna did sulk a little when I was distracted by the sight of the stewardess tying the inflatable lifejacket straps across her bum right by face, but that’s nothing I won’t pay for weeks for. Never mind, it was worth it.

The train from the airport to Glasgow was dirt cheap - subsidised travel - and enjoyably shabby. The taxi driver to the hotel was chatty and cheerfully informed us that our hotel’s in the west end: the best place to go out at night. Bodes well for this evening.

And the hotel…

Initially they gave us the keys to Room 101. You’ll understand why this made me nervous. When we got there, it was a twin room. This is not what I booked. We marched back downstairs and demanded (OK, asked politely) if it could be changed. They only had one double left.

So, here I lie in a bed big enough for four (not that I’ll be testing that out), listening to Lorna washing two rooms away. Yes, we’re in the Kelvin Suite for the price of a budget room. Result!