Symbolic Forest

Glasgow just wasn’t Glasgow last Saturday. Why? We walked down Queen Street, and there weren’t any goths or skater kids standing around outside the art gallery. None. Not one. The pavements, though, were wet. “They must have all just been hosed away,” said C. We looked around the art gallery, but the main gallery was closed off for installation, and none of the rest was particularly impressive. Being too lazy to get on the subway and go out to Kelvingrove, we ambled back up Sauchiehall Street and got ready for our night out.

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Keyword noise: Glasgow, holiday, photography, Scotland, travel, Wemyss Bay, railway station.

When I looked out of my hotel window, I remembered why I missed the place. In a tower block above Charing Cross station, the random architecture of the city looked lovely in the early morning light. To the west, I could see the spire of the university.

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Keyword noise: Charing Cross, Glasgow, holiday, Scotland, travel.

…is one of my favourite cosy, romantic songs. It’s by The Clientele, and it goes something like:

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Keyword noise: Edinburgh, Glasgow, indie, lyrics, Morningside, music, romantic, Scotland, The Clientele.

Two small things today, because I’m too sleepy to write more.

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Keyword noise: 1970s, books, death, Glasgow, Glasgow Subway, history, Jan Mark, literature, obituary, photography, railway, reading, subway, underground, Zeno Was Here.

Was in the pub last night—well, afternoon really. We were having a quiet drink, when a mad drunk bloke suddenly attaches himself to us. And he won’t shut up. Or go away. Neither of us are brave enough to tell him to piss off, so we just sit there whilst he rambles on about his life, his likes and dislikes, and ogles every girl that walks past.

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Keyword noise: Glasgow, Scotland, people.