|
Glasgow - Scotland sans shorbread, bagpipes and kilts.
Just got back from a weekend in Scotland and thought you might like to read a different take on life north of the border. As the title implies this was not a shortbread tin trip, but if you are interested in gothic architecture, eclectic art collections, cafes and cocktails this might just be right up your street.
There will be no discussions of the merits of Airbnb vs hotels, nor corporate hospitality vs boutique as I was staying at Tommy's (Stilldontknow/Weegie/Uruabam etc) so you will be spared tedious info on size of bathrooms, sheet thread count and so on. Apart from that it will be my usual format of a post to cover each day I was away. Oh and for a bit of variety, unusually for me I am starting with pictures:- https://www.flickr.com/photos/494523...7649154788709/ There you go! Day 1 (heading north, xmas market) to follow tomorrow when I've got my horrid work presentation out of the way... Back soon.... |
OK - I'll be waiting. :)
|
Nae chips with yer pie?!
|
Beautifully atmospheric pictures.
|
There will be a full and frank explanation of the circumstances surrounding the consumption of the pie later Patrick.
Ty Willit - it was a bit overcast at times so I tried to make the most of that with the not-so-subtle use of art filters. |
Thursday
I travelled up to Glasgow by train, starting out roughly mid-day. £64 return for my trip into London from the home counties, tube across town, and the 4.5 hour Euston to Glasgow leg. Top tip – don’t book on the day these fares come out as although it’s generally cheaper to book well in advance there seems to be a period of about 2 weeks after the initial release when prices actually drop a bit. Euston is badly in need of a makeover and is definitely the poor relation relative to the other London termini with their Victorian glass rooves, terrazzo floors and newly repointed brickwork. However on the upside, it’s relatively compact and the walk from the tube is not too far. In common with 95% of the other passengers using the station that day I got my lunch at the M&S in the station, ham sandwiches and a bottle of fruit juice, boarding the Virgin Pendolino train and stashing my luggage (one roller-case) overhead. I’d booked rear-facing airline style seating so naturally was allocated a forward facing table seat (which I meekly sat in, being quite well brought up and not the complaining type). There were a few arguments among other passengers who had also not been assigned the seats they thought they’d booked – someone who got travel sick was refusing to move from their forward facing seat into the rear facing seat shown on their ticket but this being a) The Quiet Carriage and b) Britain, this amounted to no more than a few whispered threats and some dagger-like stares for the rest of the journey. The train left on time and I enjoyed a smooth journey, reading ‘Angel with Two Faces’ – a 20s Agatha Christie style murder mystery populated with Lettices and Archies. From Lancaster onward I put my book down and (briefly) admired the scenery before it got too dark. The track skirts parts of the Lake District so the views are pretty impressive with some of the highest hills in England, rushing rivers and tiny stone walls hemming in winter-woolled sheep. We arrived dead on time into Glasgow Central – a considerably more attractive station than Euston - a grade A listed building with the fabulous old Edwardian era wooden booking office still in situ (though now converted into shops). Tommy met me at the end of the platform and we headed straight into town. First port of call was the Christmas market on Argyle Street and into the drinks tent where we had spicy mulled cider – I actually prefer this to mulled wine to be honest. There was actually quite a variety of different drinks all with cheesily xmas themed names and it was very pleasant chatting and boozing under the warmth of the heaters just having a bit of a catch up. We next decided to dump my case in the car (I’d managed to run over a few feet just wheeling it round the beer tent). Luggage dropped off we explored more of the xmas market – not huge but of good quality with local cheeses, bottled beers to take away, delicious looking sweets, Italian cakes (including my favourite cannoli), some good quality knitwear (mostly hats) and an array of high quality street food. Bypassing goat curry, churros and burgers we opted for the hog roast served with sage and onion stuffing and crackling on floury baps. Having eaten, Tommy then took me on a tour of the xmas lights –surprisingly tasteful canopies of tiny white bulbs providing a sort of false roof. I was also (cruelly!) tantalised with a tour of the jewellery quarter and various designer shops. We headed for HMV as a friend had texted to let Tommy know a favourite band of his were doing a promotional event at the store, however when we arrived it didn’t look as though they’d even started setting up, so we opted to head home to try and catch Masterchef, fretting en-route that this was probably proof of fast approaching middle age. Curled up on the sofa with copious amounts of tea, Monica and Marcus, charging our batteries ready for Friday. Next time – Brunch angst, a play, a pie and pint, culture, and grubbing. |
"Glasgow - Scotland sans shorbread, bagpipes and kilts."
What's with the "sans" bit? You going all Yank on us? :-) |
That is french I will have you know :-P
|
<<What's with the "sans" bit? You going all Yank on us? >>
Yank??? "Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything." W.Shakespeare |
It "may" be Shakespeare but I bet you won't hear many locals in the UK saying it,our North American cousins seem to be very fond of the word though, along with "entree", although why they use it to describe a main course, I have no idea.
|
Nice report. I do not understand, however, your reluctance to tell us exactly where in "the home counties" you reside.
|
I live in a small market town half way between London and Cambridge but I don't normally name it in my reports because I don't think many people will have heard of it or know where it is, Dukey.
In my defence Hooameye, I would never say entree :-P |
Hi RM67,
On your way to Glasgow... "...The track skirts parts of the Lake District so the views are pretty impressive with some of the highest hills in England, rushing rivers and tiny stone walls hemming in winter-woolled sheep." So well written. I love well written! Will continue to follow along. |
Ty Latedaytraveler and LCboniti
|
There are some great pictures. Glasgow is a much under-rated city and there is so much do do and see there. I actually prefer it to Edinburgh!
|
<<It "may" be Shakespeare but I bet you won't hear many locals in the UK saying it,our North American cousins seem to be very fond of the word though, along with "entree", although why they use it to describe a main course, I have no idea.>>
As a North American, I rarely hear the work used, except of course by my compatriots who speak "la langue de Molière". I've often wondered why entrée is used in North America to refer to a main course. It's a long story, but essentially an entrée originally was not an appetizer or starter course, but one served between the fish and the roast courses. For a detailed explanation see this: http://languageoffood.blogspot.ca/2009/08/entree.html |
I hardly ever hear an American say "sans". I think most never heard the word.
I haven't spent a lot of time in either city, but I also liked Glasgow better than Edinburgh. |
Nice report, and I love your pictures.
Lee Ann |
Beautiful pictures!
|
Lovely pictures. I like hearing about Glasgow.
|
Thank you for the kind comments - I am writing part 2 as we speak - it's quite long so will go up tomorrow.
|
Friday
Survived a night of foot nibbling (Sam the cat, not Tommy) and was up bright and earlyish ready for our first full day in the city centre. There's a bus stop just outside Tommy's flat and for £4.10 we were able to get travel card type tickets, allowing us unlimited transit round Glasgow for the day. First port of call was Kember and Jones in the West End for breakfast/brunch. I have to admit I was rather taken with this area - lots of impressive red stone tenements, upmarket cafes and delis, vintage shops and florists, just a stone’s throw from the superb gothic architecture of the university, and the cool tranquillity of the Botanic Gardens. I dropped a lot of hints to Tommy that he should consider moving here from the Southside, and when these fell on deaf ears I opted for the less subtle approach of dragging him to the estate agents window, pointing at the various listings and oohing and aahing. Back to Kember though - a lovely deli café with home-made cakes, pastries and breads. Mr M was not quite as enamoured as me as the ham and emmenthal croissants had run out, and they refused to let him have a sandwich from the lunch menu as it was 'too early' but I was very happy with my waffle and forest fruits with maple syrup. We both had coffees - flat whites - me having edumacated Mr M of the superiority of these over his usual macchiato. Always happy to bring a little southern sophistimication to the north . As we left Kember we passed a patisserie next door with fab cakes in the window - and guess what else – cheese and ham croissants on the menu. Next port of call was Oran Mor - a church converted into a pub. In case you are mildly appalled at the seamless transition from brekkie to booze dear reader, let me explain further. Oran Mor has a theatre in the basement and we had tickets for a lunchtime show - The Kings Kilt. For £10 you get a seat at the play, a pint of whatever you fancy and a pie. First, we had a quick drink in the bar upstairs, which was very atmospheric with the original stained glass windows, stone lintels, heavy beams, and dark and shady corners. Going down the stairs to the stage you pass photographs of past scriptwriters and performers such as Robbie Coltrane. Once underground the nosh is dispensed from a hot counter at the back of the room. The pies were mutton, and very good, served with thick rich gravy. I had a pint of orange juice not being brave/foolhardly enough to try my luck asking for a pint of white Russian or mojito. Then we seated ourselves at the side of the theatre on comfy banquets and watched the play unfold. It told the tale of an American visitor to Scotland, a descendant of the writer Walter Scott, who had come to research his ancestor’s works. Whilst staying at a boarding house he finds an undiscovered manuscript by Scott, about the making of a kilt for George IV. The play was funny, very well written and acted, with just three actors playing all the parts. We loved it and I would go again in a heartbeat. Next stop was the Botanic Gardens just over the road from Oran Mor for a wander round the hothouses full of tropical plants. I took a lot of pictures here because the plants were offset by beautiful marble statues. An ante room to one of the hothouses contained carnivorous plants, reminding me of the venus fly trap I'd once owned. This lived (briefly!) on my desk at work, dying shortly after my colleagues helpfully fed it Frazzles and pencil shavings. Leaving the Botanic Gardens we walked down toward the river past terraces of blonde sandstone houses and tenements that would give Bath a run for its money. Tommy suggested we nip into Inn Deep, a bar located under the arches right down on the riverbank complete with cellar-like vaulted ceilings. We bravely sat outside on the terrace with our drinks, watching dog walkers and joggers going past the Kelvin. The bar had placed drinking bowls outside for the ‘dugs’ which amused me somewhat as a sassanach. (N.b. There are patio heaters in a fairy-light encrusted alcove if you are not made of such stern stuff as us). We continued our walk along the river to Kelvingrove Park, laughing at a pug playing in the leaves, and taking pictures of the cherubs around the fountains, and on the main road another amusing traffic cone clad statue (it’s a form of art in Glasgow – Google Wellington if you don’t believe me). Over the road and into the vast and turreted Kelvingrove art gallery. I really loved this place. First off it has a host of world class art – Dali and Mackintosh to name but two contributors. Secondly, it has a refreshingly casual way of displaying the artefacts – for example, a World War 2 spitfire suspended over a Serengeti of taxidermied wildlife, or hanging heads, illuminated by lights that constantly changed colour. I think my favourite gallery however was the avant-garde ‘Glasgow Boys’ full of fabulous impressionist and post-impressionist works. Tommy pointed out a couple of the better known paintings to me, like The Druids and Japanese Lady with a Fan, but I liked the tiny canvas showing laundry drying in the breeze best. We could have spent a lot longer at the Kelvingrove Art Gallery but my feet were killing me – it’s traditional for me to wear unsuitable shoes or new unbroken ones whenever Tommy and I go away and this trip was no exception, so we cut our losses and headed for a bar (sorry, can’t remember the name) to discuss dining options over a drink. The winning establishment was Fanny Trollops, which we booked on my iPhone there and then (isn’t the interwebs wonderful) and we wandered down to the restaurant half an hour later ready to be refuelled. This was a great place with warm friendly service, comfy banquettes and excellent food for the price - £17 for 3 courses on the early bird menu, plus £19 for a very decent bottle of red. I had goats cheese and butternut squash risotto to start, then ham with home-made piccalilli and chips, finishing off with sticky toffee pud. Tommy had fresh mackerel fillet on a brioche crouton, chicken with thyme, and a pear tart. I think we had coffee but was a bit tipsy from the wine so can’t honestly remember. Then back home to collapse in front of the telly! Next - mini pub crawl, markets and cocktails! |
RM67, you must have been a food critic in another life. Great details about your culinary experiences.
"...but my feet were killing me – it’s traditional for me to wear unsuitable shoes or new unbroken ones..." I hear you. I had a similar problem once in Florence. I was so miserable, all I could think of was sinking my sorry feet into a warm whirlpool while having a pedi back home." Fortunately, I had brought another pair of shoes so it worked out well. Wow, sorry I have missed Glasgow in the past... |
It's harder for girls - you ideally want something low and comfortable for walking but at the same time a bit of a heel is nice in case you just so happen to come across a cocktail bar and get whisked inside...
Food is one of the reasons I travel so my posts always have lots of grubby info. Plus it helps that someone on one of the anti-TR threads said they hated foodie details - the contrary part of me wants to sneak in menus at every possible opportunity now :-P |
Saturday
Breakfast in bed - bacon sarnies. Then showered and out, catching the bus into town again. Originally Saturday had been tentatively pencilled in as Christmas Shopping day, but it ended up being more of a wandering from bar to café sort of day. We walked along the river admiring grand houses on the bank almost all populated by doctors and solicitors offices, crossing a bridge and ducking into the Scotia bar - a lovely old pub with low ceilings and wood so dark it was almost black. Just one quick drink sat at the bar and then off to Café Source for lunch. Café Source is a brasserie in the basement of an old church in St Andrews Square. It was quiet and relaxing, the square being just off the main drag, nicely dim and quiet, though the huge bar hinted to the fact it had the potential to be heaving in the evenings. I had sausages and rumbedethumps - mash with cabbage and spring onion in, Tommy had a steak, and we shared a sundae as a pud. The sundae was vanilla ice cream studded with Scottish sweeties like chunks of tablet and macaroon - basically pancreatic failure in a dish. We were quite restrained, having our wine by the glass as we knew we'd likely be imbibing later. We liked Café Source with its cheery efficient waitresses, good food served piping hot and a bit of a break from the melee. Next port of call was the Barras - a street and indoor market in the East End set against an eclectic backdrop of buildings ranging from Victorian factories and warehouses to the neon-clad Barrowlands ballroom. Some of the stalls were starting to pack away as we arrived, but there were still a number of interesting hoards to root through - my faves were the vintage camera stall - lovely black and silver 60s DSLRs and the vintage bike style where I range a lot of bells. Window shopping is hard work so we finished our market tour with a visit to McHuills bar - a great pub with pool tables and live music (the band were setting up whilst we were there), and walls adorned with gig posters and album cover art. Tommy said the owner reminded him a bit of Andy Warhol though we opted not to ask him to put on some specs to complete the look. Next stop, secreted away on first floor level up some stairs from the main street, Bar Gandolphi for coffee and a break for our livers. We also had a brief visit to a craft market - sorry, I cannot remember the location, only that I was a bit tickled by some of the artwork for sale - especially the photograph of tiny toy action figures in construction gear jack-hammering a Tunnocks teacake as though mending the road. We then decided it was finally an acceptable hour to start on cocktails and headed first for the uber grand Corinthian. Unfortunately, the main bar downstairs was closed, and the first floor champage bar was heaving. Since we both had tired achey feet and felt that seating was a must, we left the Corinthian without touching a drop - however it was worth popping in just to see the fabulous dandelion-like chandeliers. Urban Brasserie was similarly packed, so we headed for the Blue Dog Cocktail bar on George Street. I absolutely loved the Blue Dog with its backlit cocktail bar and unusual menu. Seeing that there were a couple of tables free I left Tommy at the bar to order and grabbed us a seat, leaving instructions to get me something new and exciting I'd not tried before. One of the reasons I love Mr M is because he is always game for any sort of challenge like this - virtually every other bloke I know would have said 'I dunno what to get you, look at the menu'. Not Tommy. He returned a few minutes with a Clockwork Orange - and amazing concoction of bourbon, chocolate and orange oil from flamed orange peel, plus enough ice to sink the titanic. Next up were Hot Velvet Kisses full of chocolate liqueur, cherries, chilli, cream and vodka. The chilli packed a real punch and burned all the way down. Only downside was that the loo was downstairs which is not an attractive prospect when you have heels and have been boozing for a couple of hours. After cocktails we headed home in the light drizzle, wrapped up warmly and with a bit of a Blue Dog fuelled inner glow too. Next Time - pampering and yet more grubbing. |
Ps I hit submit instead of preview when doing corrections, so apologies for the typos in the last couple of paragraphs - oh for an edit button!!
|
The art fair was in the Fruitmarket. Very nice it was too.
|
I am wishing I had packed slightly less clothes so I might have had room for the tea cake pic...
|
What a brilliant trip report. And a fantastic guide to the watering holes of Glasgow.
|
I love your writing style! (and I think I may be in love with Tommy ;) )
|
Lol he will love that. Ty for the kind comments Gertie3751 and LCBoniti.
|
Sunday
Up a bit later today as we had no plans until the afternoon. More bacon sarnies, copious cups of tea, and some first aid on my blistered heels! Shortly after midday Tommy drove me into town to meet a friend, Audrey, for coffee. Slight hiccup as the Q-Park car park helpfully told us there were spaces when in fact there weren't, but an alternative lot was quickly found and we headed for the town centre, Tommy to hole up in a pub with the footy and me to trough custard tarts with Aud. We'd picked Tinderbox which I think is a chain not found further south - well not in my part of the country anyway, going for the Princes Square branch. There was a cunning reason for this - I had had an email from Jo Malone offering free hand massages after purchasing some perfume there, so the coffee bar was ideally placed one floor up from the perfumier, for a pre-rubbing caffeine fix I was all ready for a battle in Jo Malone as the free massages were actually offered at the Cambridge branch, and although I'd emailed asking if they could be transferred, I'd not had a reply. I had all sorts of sympathy cards up my sleeve ready to persuade the staff to pamper us, such as Aud's recently broken toe, but it turned out to be unnecessary as we were expected, the treatment counter already set out with black towels and an array of bottles and creams. Aud went for the Wood Sage and Sea Salt and I chose the Nutmeg and Ginger, fragranced body creams being massaged into our hands by expert fingers. I think we got longer massages than usual because Aud, who can talk for Scotland, engaged the therapist in a lot of distracting chit-chat! We were even allowed to keep the little velvet jewellery pouches we'd been given to put our watches and rings in whilst being massaged. Goodbyes said, I called Tommy to come and collect me, feeling a bit guilty that he'd not got to see the whole match (Rangers were losing though so he was all smiles anyway). Back home we lazed in front of the telly, eating soup that Tommy had made from ham and split peas (yum!) and later on, cold cuts of the meat itself with bread and butter. Next up - country parks, art collections, riverside walks. |
RM67
"...only that I was a bit tickled by some of the artwork for sale - especially the photograph of tiny toy action figures in construction gear jack-hammering a Tunnocks teacake as though mending the road." Love the alliteration. Great read. :) |
Ty latedaytraveler :-)
|
Saw your TR when it first went up -- but I've been in and out off bed for about 2.5 weeks w/ a nasty sinus infection (pitiful me font off) and put it aside to read later.
Wow! Just Terrific. (I think I might be just a tad in love w/ Tommy too ;) ) Cocktails/pubs/good food/art AND Jo Malone !!!! My local Jo Malone's are both in department stores and AFAIK the don't do massages . . . It has bee maybe 10 years since I've been in Glasgow, 15 since seeing the Kelvingrove (before the refurbishment) and probably 30 (<B>YIKES</B>) since prowling the Barras. Need to plan a trip. |
>Wow! Just Terrific. (I think I might be just a tad in love w/ Tommy too ;) )<
Love is not required. Simple donations of beer and crisps will suffice. |
Monday
First port of call on my last morning in Glasgow was Pollock Country Park. The aim of this visit was to spot a hairy coo (highland cow). I make my own marmalade every year with Isle of Jura scots whisky in it and Scottish themed labels. Last year I nicked pictures of highland cows from Flickr to make the tags, but this year I wanted to ensure my marmalade was 100% home made by using my own photographs on the jars. Hence cow stalking in a country park in the middle of Scotlands biggest city. I was pleasantly surprised by the park, which was a total oasis of mature woodland, walking trails, open parkland, rivers and stone bridges. Tommy parked in one of the laybys and we wandered over to the field where the coos live. A black bull was standing right by the fence and helpfully posed for pics, but it was one of the red shaggy cows that I really wanted, so we decided to make a quick tour of the Burrell Collection, housed in the park and see if the coos had moved to a more obliging position upon our return. The Burrell Collection turned out to be a bit of a gem. Over 8000 artifacts collected by one man, William Burrell, and encompassing just about every historical era and geographical location you could think of - Egyptian, Roman, Greek, Islamic, sculpture, textiles, painting, stained glass, porcelain and even parts of buildings removed wholesale. There was even an area devoted to the construction of the building to hold the collection which only came about some 30-40 years after Burrell bequeathed his trove. We wandered admiring the various artifacts and the views through the huge glass picture windows overlooking woodland. Leaving the gallery I was a bit disappointed to see that the hairy coos had moved no nearer, so we got back into the car and started the drive out of the park. We'd barely gone 50 yards however when I noticed in another field on the opposite side of the road a proper red shaggy hairy coo and two calves right by the fence. Tommy dutifully stopped and I nipped out to get some shots. Success! Into the Shawlands part of town and a quick lunch at the Waverley Tea Rooms - nothing uber fancy but tasty and reasonably priced, fish and chips for him, Cajun chicken for me. Then just round the corner to The Glad Café, a fab coffee shop come entertainment centre with a stage out back for drama, talks, film and gigs. We had excellent coffees and mini cakes - a chocolate and salt caramel tart for me with crushed pistachios on top, and a mini lemon meringue pie for Tommy. Last port of call in Shawlands was a deli where Tommy bought me tablet and macaroon (chocolate covered coconut) to take home. We headed into the city, stopping on the banks of the Clyde, waiting for the light to fail so we could get pictures of the Armadillio and Squinty Bridge all lit up. We passed the Science Centre (more photogenic architecture) and the world's last seaworthy paddlesteamer, The Waverly. This was a beautiful old boat with teak decking and red painted funnels and really, this was the one and only time on the trip I wished it was summer because it would have been great to steam out to sea and around the lochs in that. Crossing a footbridge to the other bank, we ducked into the Marriot, right on the quayside, for a last drink in the bar. We had tea served in individual pots, on individual trays, under the fairy lights and sparkly Christmas decorations, warming us up after our walk in the grey and rainy dusk. Then back to the car so Tommy could drop me off at Glasgow Central for my train home. I would probably have been a bit sad if I wasn't already mentally planning my return :-) |
Thanks Janis - you definitely need to see the Kelvingrove art gallery again! Hope you are feeing better.
|
A few cultural links following on from Tommy's boozing and grubbing ones. (Kelvingrove Art Gallery, Pollock Park, The Burrell Collection)
http://www.glasgowlife.org.uk/museum...s/default.aspx http://www.glasgow.gov.uk/?articleid=5343 http://www.glasgowlife.org.uk/museum...s/default.aspx And finally, a couple of pics of the phantom foot nibbler! https://www.flickr.com/photos/494523...7649234199257/ |
| All times are GMT -8. The time now is 09:56 AM. |