Picture it – Glasgow, December 22nd. Sitting in a Café Nero (the Starbucks of Italy, a chain that has more links than the one that tied Prometheus to his rocky prison). A lone American girl just arrived in a new and fairly strange city. The only sense of commonality is the tall, skinny, hazelnut latte and biscotti that she orders in every new and strange city. Having checked into the youth hostel down the street from St. George’s Square and spending the day wandering up and down the two pedestrian thoroughfares that create the heart of Glasgow’s shopping and meeting spots, she settles down to write in her journal about the day’s travel.
Now it’s Christmas time and I find myself (well, sent myself not ‘find’ like I just woke up and I was here…) in Glasgow! God love men in kilts!
She writes enjoying her individual pizza as the first meal she has on her first trip alone. Sure, she made it all the way to London by herself, but this was a holiday visit to Scotland. Whatever she wanted to do and see, she would have to decide it and do it alone. A big difference from every other time before when the decisions were always a matter of consensus and compromise or simply a matter of doing what someone else had planned. Now it was all upon her shoulders, a burden no less daunting than Atlas’ but much less weighty.
After perusing the mall (St. Enoch’s) a while I headed out to Buchanan Street, went through Argyle Arcade – gorgeous massive amounts of wonderful, shinning jewellery. Popped into a few shops until I finally found a good deal at H&M (got a skirt and jumper for half price). Then I went and bought tickets to a choir concert at the Glasgow Royal Concert Hall for tomorrow night and continued to walk the entire length of Sachiehall Street (found a cool restaurant called Stavka that serves Baltika beer!) [Beer of Russian descent, the staple of all American study abroad students in Petersburg, a.k.a. liquid bread.]
The first day alone, from boarding the bus to get to the airport, boarding the plane to arrive in the kingdom to the north, hopping the train to get into the centre of the city and finally wandering up and down foreign streets gave her a deep sense of accomplishment. At last, she was in Scotland! Land of William Wallace, Robert the Bruce, Bonnie Prince Charlie and most importantly Ewan McGregor.
Yesterday – got up about 8ish had a nice leisurely time getting ready, not the greatest of all showers but not terrible for a hostel. Then I put on one of the new outfits from H&M, a yellow turtle neck and dark denim long skirt (in case you were wondering). Then I planned to go on a city bus tour, but before I made it to the starting point I got distracted again by a sale at the Gap! (I know, shopoholic much). Well who can resist 50% off? I went in and bought another skirt I’ve had my eye on for a while and the top to match plus another white camisole which I needed and this really fun bright, but not obnoxious orange knit sweater which I’m wearing today.
Satisfied by the purchases and weighed down by the bags, she dropped off the new additions to her wardrobe at the hostel before attempting yet again to get to the city bus tour. Arriving in St. George’s Square she found the bus stop and the ever present pusher of tourist tickets.
There was a guy on the corner, who strangely enough reminded me of Loren only with a Scottish accent, who was the point man for the tour. It was only me on the bus when we started off so I got my own personal tour of Glasgow by the very friendly grandpa-like bloke who I think loves the sounds of his own voice. Anyways I went all over Glasgow and got a native’s perspective on things, including bits of ancient and modern history along with ‘There used to be beautiful houses here 30 years ago, but they torn it down to build the highway.’ It was a good time, I truly appreciate the city planers of Glasgow and think that dad would find it a fascinating place.
The Counting House, former Bank turned pub. Quintessential example of the United Kingdom drinking culture, The Counting House stands on one corner with three more pubs circling the intersection so that no matter from which direction you approach there is always a pub near by. Dropped off again at St. George’s, she walks into The Counting House and after casing the joint for about twenty minutes finally finds a place to sit and enjoy a meal. After eating and drinking some traditional ale she heads out again to continue on the touring agenda for the day.
After lunch there I took a tour of the city hall, beautiful place – Glasgow is a sister city of Rostov-on-Don, Russia – then I went to the visitor centre for the city and bought Stephanie a present, necklace, very pretty I think and bought myself a bookmark for the book I bought at the airport (Plato’s Republic). Then I went to the Royal Concert Hall and heard and sang! Christmas carols.
The last full day in Glasgow was just what was needed, a little shopping, a little sight-seeing, ending in a bit of cultural experience. The next morning she awoke early to walk around the east side of town and get the last few pictures to complete her collection of tourist memento. University of Glasgow – check. Kelvingrove Museum – check. Mansions on the Hill – double check. Through the grey dawn (at 9am) she finally finished the walk through the rain back to the bus station and boarded the Scottish Citylink bus leaving Glasgow at 10:40 heading for Edinburgh.
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