Yesterday it was parking. Today my complaint was transport.
Scamp drove me down to the station this morning to catch the train to Glasgow to meet Alex. I just missed the train by seconds, and had to wait 20 mins for the next one which appeared on the board as the train I missed was disappearing around the bend. I wandered along the platform and back again then went for a seat in the waiting room because I’d decided to carry two cameras and three lenses. One each and an extra one if the need arose. Sat for a while then as the platform got busier, I walked back to see how long it was now before the train. Apparently it was on time at Falkirk, the previous stop to mine. Then things started to go wrong. Originally it was due in 14 minutes, then that changed to 16 minutes and then it just read DELAYED. Now we all know that if you remove the L the Y and the second E, the truth is there to read. This train was DEAD. The announcement came soon after that and it told us that the train was due at 11.24am. Amazingly it did arrive right at that time. Admittedly that doesn’t happen often, but it’s still annoying when it does.
Met Alex at the bus station after I walked up from the train station in Glasgow and we went for coffee. Our usual start to a day taking photos in Glasgow. I suggested we go down Buchanan Street through St Enoch’s an on to the Clyde Walkway where we can walk downstream to the Squinty Bridge. Hopefully the day would brighten up from its dull start and the sun would shine (Spoiler alert: It didn’t). I think I was surprised that he agreed right away, so that’s what we did.
We took some photos of the artwork that constantly changes on the concrete panels of the walkway. We took some shots. My out and out favourite was the chicken with the lip ring and the amazing reflections in its eyes. I don’t know how they achieved that. Such clever and artistic people doing graffiti nowadays. Take a look at it on Flickr if you get the chance. With that done we crossed the South Portland St Suspension Bridge. I don’t ever remember being on that bridge, but somehow it felt familiar. That’s where PoD came from. Taken from the Gorbals end of the bridge looking back to the city. A wee slightly wobbly man with a clinking poly bag told us we shouldn’t be taking photos of his pals down on the steps and when he realised we’d Scottish accents he smile and we were his pals. His passing remark was “Glasgow’s a lovely city”, and you know something? He was right!
We saw another two better dressed gents crossing the bridge looking like they’d been to a wedding or maybe a posh lunch walking with a man carrying an orange box filled with plants. It looked like they were together, but trying to deny it. Strange things happen on the south side of the Clyde
We turned right and walked along into what turned out to be the financial district. Lots and lots of new high rise office blocks. Most of them owned by or affiliated to Barclays. We walked on because we were beginning to feel hunger pangs. Crossed back over at the Squiggly Bridge and made our way back into the city.
We found a Nero on a street corner and lunch was BLT sandwich for Alex and mushroom Tostati for me. Not really a lunch, just something to keep the wolf from the door.
Walked back up Buchanan Street and caught our individual bus home, except, to keep things symmetrical, I just missed the X3 home and had to wait 20 minutes for the next one!
Dinner tonight was yesterday’s curry reheated but with fish instead of eggs. Still delicious, just different.
Tonight we had a quick rehearsal of Joy’s Waltz and the new Rumba because we may be going to a tea dance tomorrow.