Glasgow certainly didn’t tart herself up for my arrival
Grey skies, 10 degree winds, and drizzling irritation provided the backdrop for a humourless, grumpy people to resentfully show me around. Glasgow is like Dublin’s troubled teenage son: sullen and difficult to like.
Granted there is some gasp-worthy heritage type architecure around, many of the old city buildings are stone-carved with gargoyles, and the churches are magnificently detailed and ornate.
Last night we (me and the woman i’m here working with) went out to investigate Glasgow By Night. We found an ambient, below-street-level, drum & bass playing wine bar to start the evening. Then moved on upstairs for excessively expensive and therefore, as if by some gourmet culinary logic, excessively small but aesethically pleasing plates of food, washed down with a bottle of vintage bordeaux, thankyou very much.
We stumbled down the hilly streets onto the main drag – Sauciehall Street. We tried out a few clubs there but I felt about 5 years too old compared to the rest of the crowd. This must be a univeristy town. Highlight of the evening was a dead heat between having an aerial view of several booths of gay men theatrically lipsyncing to Man, I Feel Like A Woman or shaking my booty to Grease Lightning and doing some theatrics of my own.
I am back to London tonight, but must return here in 2 weeks, so will leave a visit to Scotland’s warmer, livelier cousin, Edinburgh, until then.
Tags: Scotland
Jyai