Weekend in Glasgow: Days 1 and 2

My weekend in Glasgow marks the beginning of my Easter vacation and is the first major trip I’ve made outside the wee confines of the smatter of settlements I’ve poked around in for the past month. In the interest of not overwhelming you all, I will post days 1 and 2 as one post and day 3 as a separate post.

Day 1:

I left campus at around 4:36 or something, taking a video of most of the walk (although I will probably try it again at a later date when I’m not lugging a book bag and a suitcase). The wait at the bus stop seemed interminable. The bus was just over 10 minutes late, plus the bus driver stopped to pee when we got to the bus station halfway through the journey. As a result we ended up getting to my stop (the Howden St by Club Earth) almost 20 minutes late, so it is quite a good thing that I didn’t have to meet my bus to Glasgow right away, or I’d have been screwed.
I wasn’t sure if I got the name of the stop right because of the way the driver had responded to it, but at right about the spot where I thought the stop should have been I made my way forward and showed him the instructions from Traveline that I had written out for myself. As it turns out, I ended up standing up at just the right time – he pointed down the road behind us about 50 feet or so, and lo and behold, there was a bus stop there. Apparently they know it as the Club Earth stop.
A bazillion buses passed by before my X15 showed up. Okay, it was actually only three or four buses, but I was operating on nervous tension punctuated by a little voice in my head (Dad’s or Dr. Swartz’s – they took turns) telling me to calm down.
When the bus stopped and the door opened, I took a look at the 4 steps they expected me to ascend with my huge, heavy suitcase, and I said, quote, “Ohhhhh, yeah. Alright.” Fortunately, a very nice Indian guy took the suitcase and settled it into the seat behind the driver for me while I paid (it costs £5 to get to Glasgow, in case you were wondering). The drive definitely didn’t seem as long as it was supposed to be. There were several great views, but unfortunately a great many of them were obstructed by high banks on either side of the road or by the trees that are invariably planted along most of the roadsides here. I think you can see in some of my pictures how those little trees can obstruct a camera’s duties.
Speaking of pictures, I have decided to keep them in an online album rather than putting all of them into my blog. It’s annoying and tedious to put them into a Blogger post, plus if I use an album I can caption them, which is something that my biggest fan quite enjoys.
Also, while I’m talking in an aside, I want to mention something random that I started really noticing last week among the guys in my Heritage Studies class and that would have gone in my last blog had I noticed it at the time: guys in the UK know how to dress themselves. I have seen very few poorly-dressed men here. That’s not to say that they always wear buttoned and collared shirts or anything, but I have yet to see, for example, baggy sweat pants hanging around knees, sideways baseball caps, awkwardly fitted t-shirts or *cringe* sandals worn with socks. Perhaps they just have a better selection of clothing to choose from or something, but whatever it is, American guys should really be shipped here a few thousand at a time to takes notes on what to wear, because compared to the UK, a large percentage of American guys are blind, as far as fashion is concerned.
The Buchanan Bus Station reminded me very much of an airport… but with buses. All the buses lined up all slanty-like by the station, and when you walked into it, it really was like a mini-airport, lined with gift shops, little eateries and national restaurant chains.
From what I could recall (poorly, as it turns out) from the map I’d seen, the hotel I was looking for (citizenM) was at the corner of Renfield and Renfrew, and appeared to be right down the street from the station. I found Renfield and, in a moment that would have caused audiences to shout “DON’T GO DOWN THAT ROAD!! IT’S THE WRONG ONE!!”… I went down it. Specifically, I went at least a quarter of a mile down it, but couldn’t find the street I needed. Eventually I stopped at a convenience store for directions (the cashier didn’t have a thick Scottish accent, which relieved me a bit) and found that I had passed it about halfway through my “tromp down the sidewalk with really heavy bags in tow”. And so upon thanking him I turned around, sweaty and tired and a little bit annoyed, only to find that the hotel was… right down the road from the bus station. Like, RIGHT FRAKKING THERE. Ah, well. At least I got there.
CitizenM is just as eccentric and post-modern as it promised to be on the website. Miguel (not Scottish or English, but still a bit hard to understand with his Eastern European accent) helped me with my check-in.
And my 4th floor room is s o a w e s o m e ! ! There’s a king-sized bed, a writing desk, huge, semi-plush towels, a weird-looking little bunny named Marvin (their mascot, I guess) and a “Do Not Disturb” door hanger that says “Don’t come in. There’s a naked person in here.” My favorite thing, hands-down, is the shower. It’s what they call a rain shower, meaning that insteadof a regular shower head, the water comes out of the ceiling, like you’re standing under your own special little rain cloud. There’s also a second, detachable shower head. It. Is. Amazing. And there’s a light in it that tints the whole room, and I get to control the color or (if I choose) colors of it.
Speaking of controlling things, there’s a remote that controls the flat-screen television (over the bed), the blinds, the temperature, the lights and the alarm clock. Several TV channels and a plethora of movies are included in the price of the room, and Rodin Hood, Star Trek, Serenity, Despicable Me, Eagle Eye, Iron Man 2 and Tropic Thunder were among my options. There were also a lot of porn movies to choose from.
I watched Tropic Thunder before going to bed. Jay Baruchel is such a cutie.

Day 2:

I had breakfast in canteenM around 8:30 or so. It was not what I would call spectacular. The sausage tasted like something from a stand at the fair, and the “tomato and egg” sandwich was an oddity. The orange juice had pulp in it but tasted pretty good, and the coffee was, of course, not sweet enough for my tastes. I drank it after I had finished everything else, and took to wandering around and looking at the bar area – they have a special bookshelf set aside for souvenir items you can purchase, including journals, books, the soaps and shampoos that you get in your room, and Marvin bunnies. There are also a bunch of snacks available, from muffins and croissants to fruit and juices and Ben&Jerry’s ice cream.
I went back to my room then and took a shower. The shower in my hotel is phenomenal – could have stayed in there all day! I was on my computer for a little while looking at a map of the area. I talked to Harriet on Skype for a few minutes, then headed out at about 11am.
The weather was absolutely beautiful – 55 or 60 degrees and sunny, with a refreshing wind. It was the first truly warm day I have experienced since last fall, and when added to the thrill of being in a new place and the promise of exploration… it was downright intoxicating. Everything around me looked huge and solid and foreign and by jove, I was ready to see as much of it as I could.
One of the first places I stopped at was called Red 5 and had an array of fascinating gadgets in it. There was a monster-sized metal Predator standing in the shop window with a price of £5,000 on it, so I knew immediately that it must be a cool place. I took pictures of some of the more unique and amusing things I saw (including a real-life Gaydar instrument, which I am apparently in need of), which will of course be in my online album whenever I get that up and moving.
A little ways down from that there was a store called Americandy, which I assumed was supposed to be a store that says “Look at all of the exotic foreign candy! This is what Americans snack on!” However, I was unfamiliar with at least half of the candy and pop available there. And they didn’t even have Skittles. Please.
A few blocks down from the Buchanan Galleries I passed a shop called Forbidden Planet, which deals in geekery of all sorts: anime, comics, Hello Kitty, Twilight, action figures of the likes of Star Trek, Star Wars, Dr. Who, Tron and a host of other nerd-tastic regulars. At the time I was passing the shop, however, I heard live bagpipe music coming from somewhere further down the road. For a few moments I was torn between Star Trek and bagpipes, and decided that the shop wasn’t going anywhere, but the musicians could take to their heels at any minute. I passed by a few young men in kilts (FINALLY! KILTS!) who appeared to be in a pipe and drum band, but they weren’t playing anything. The music was coming from a wild-looking group of men that call themselves Clanadonia. One piper and four drummers. They were two parts crazy for every ten parts awesome, and I bought the album that was being sold. Dad and Kevin will both love it. I chatted with them very briefly after their set, got my CD signed, and made sure that they knew they were the coolest thing I’d seen since I got to Scotland.
There were also two pairs of men playing Native American flute music, a few acoustic guitarists (including one young man that did some rather interesting things with his voice), an African drum player and a blues guitarist. And there was a living statue. He was interesting, as much as a statue that’s actually a person can be. I have pictures.
The buildings, as I have mentioned, were mostly stone and without the labels a foreign traveler would be hard-pressed to identify each one. For example, the TGIFridays I went into had a freakin’ anteroom-type thing with a DOMED CEILING. All we get in the States is two sets of double doors. I mean… dude. There were also a plethora of cafés. The most popular chains here seem to be Starbucks, Costa and an Italian café “NERO”. And there were a LOT of them. At one point, from where I stood, I could look in 2 ½ different directions and see 3 Starbucks. No joke. Also (and this is why I mention them in the paragraph on buildings) in the middle of one of the squares there was a darkish stone building that looked like a small cathedral… but was labeled as a NERO café. Good gracious.
There were, I believe, three kilt-specific stores (perhaps more, but I only got around to three). That had, in addition to kilts, tartans, sporrans, flashes and whiskey, a lot of really cute things for purchase. I almost bought an adorable little fluffball with ears and a tail that was labeled as a “Wild Hairy Haggis” (Google it and you can see some). I may have to buy one before I leave. There were also postcards to be purchased. Fortunately, many of these postcards featured attractive beskirted men (one of the models I saw several times can also be seen… twice… at the top of this page). Unfortunately, these postcards were situated next to – and at a right angle to – the doorway. This meant that you could look at them from across the doorway, but as soon as you stepped closer to grab and/or inspect one (stop thinking dirty things) you would be directly in the path of anyone that wanted to come into the store. Yes, I was bumped into. I won’t tell you how many times.
After looking into a few places, one where the staff wasn’t really friendly and one that was too large and crowded for my self-conscious touristy self to be comfortable with, I had a late lunch at a place called Blane Valley. I imagine it was much like any of the other pub-type places in the area. It was quite crowded and I ended up having to take a seat at the unused end of a table where several middle-aged women were talking animatedly about something or another. I’ve been wanting a cheeseburger really badly since I got to Scotland, so that’s what I ordered. I wasn’t terribly impressed by it. The cheese was shredded cheddar and mozzarella, and there was way too much of it. The onion rings were not true onion rings but were more like the type you see at the Chinese buffets at home – battered rings of onion-flavored stuffing. Tastier than what the buffets offer, but still not onion rings.
I was back in my room before 6. Spent some time talking to Cindy, and at around 8pm I did NOT have a date with a Scottish guy, no matter what Cindy says I did or didn’t do. And we didn’t walk around Glasgow or eat at the aforementioned TGIFridays. And we didn’t have a great time and aren’t making plans to see each other again after I get to Edinburgh.
... And if you can't see completely through that, then you must not know me very well. :->