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Recent News... Just for Pope Gregory... |
2001-11-26 - 11:39 a.m. U.K. Day 14: Green man! Green man! I'm sad to leave our little cottage by the Loch, but I will be glad to go home. But first, two days in Glasgow. We packed - omigod our luggage is stuffed why are we such bibliophiles? Yes, this trip is definitely the breaking point; it's time to buy more bookshelves. We drove through a damp, misty Scottish morning, winding the long way out of Pertshire and down through the Stirling district towards Glasgow. We got a smashing lunch (brie and haggis dumplings, yum!) at the Beech Tree Inn near the Glengoyne distillery. Since we lingered so long over lunch, we decided to visit the cathedral and leave the museums for tomorrow. A bit of zen and angst riden maneuvering in the one-way maze of Glasgow, and we found St. Mungo's Cathedral. It's a 13th century cathedral, which tragically, the overzealous Protestants stripped during the reformation. All the decorations were removed as evil idolatry, so the cathedral is much plainer than usual. Just as we're pacing quietly around the nave, a tiny Scottish grandmother in a smart green coat charges in through the side door. Ooch, come for a visit, have you? And that's how we meet our fascinating attack guide. She just decided to walk us around the cathedral and tell us all the stories. I felt like we were passing a quiz as she tried to make us guess the meanings for various things. However, I don't think we were supposed to pass - we did better than most, much to her disappointment. Ah, well, I'm glad you know that's a Pelican - most people can't figure out what is it ... do you know what a Pelican symbolizes? Don't crack up, that would be wrong. She was a great guide, chivvying us around the cathedral like her grandchildren. I still don't quite understand why Glasgow's arms are a combination of "the bird that never flew, the fish that never swam, the tree that never grew, and the bell that never rang," but I can look it up later. There was quite a long story about a knight's wife loosing her wedding ring and her husband thought she was unfaithful. But she prayed to St. Mungo and her friend/lover/one of the soldiers (?) went fishing and found it in the belly of a fish, so she was able to show it to her husband and all was forgiven. I'm sure I missed something important in that story, but I'm still adapting to the Scottish accent. Fine architecture, though, especially nifty in the vault. And we had our first University here in 1451, before your country was even discovered ... She was uninterested in Native Americans or the Vikings in Vinland. Mungo, by the way, is a celtic nickname meaning 'dear friend'. The proper name for the Saint and the Cathedral is Kentigern. The outside stone is almost black, I'm guessing with either coal smoke or industrial smog. Through the thick mist, we walked around the churchyard and then stopped briefly at the St. Mungo's museum. Huge mistake. They had a bizzare exhibit combining all aspects of all world religions. Dancing Shiva next to a Hopi shawl next to Dali's painting of Christ - too weird for words. More tricky maneuvering through the one way streets and we find out hotel. Who would dream a modern hotel in a major European city would not have a lift (elevator)? So we had to drag the bags up three long flights of stairs to our 3rd floor room. So not amused. We relax and nap and eventually check with the front desk to find the Lochmeri company have just checked in. Pause for settling and changing clothes and, since no one was particularly hungry, we head out for a pub crawl. First stop, "Drum and Monkey". (No, we are *never* giving Matt a drum. It would be bad.) Courtney looked awesome in the sparkly new tank top and little black sweater. We finished off a pint there and crawled up the street - found a bar that was *way* too loud. D.J. was good, but my teeth could feel the beat. Susan encouraged us to finish quickly by having Matt stand outside the front window and make faces at our table - chug, chug, chug, cheers and amusement from the older couple who's table was between ours and the window - and were out. Next pub didn't really have room for all of us to sit, which was a problem, since we needed a snack or dinner. Matt and Q found and random Chinese restaurant and we sat down for dinner. Most of us had snacks, but there was way too much food so no one went hungry. Rob's braised squid gets a thumbs up. Tara and Susan decided it was time for quiet rather than more smoky pubs, so they kindly took coats and bags back to the hotel. Thanks! Next pub was too cramped - I understand Saturday night in Glasgow pubs are crowded, but fifteen people deep around the bar - no, I don't think so. Meng, wonderous Meng, talks to the doorman who directs us up and around the corner to a less crowded pub that was doing *karoke*! We find a group of tables in the back, near a trio of nice Scots - Scott and Lorna and I didn't get the third gentleman's name. The other part of our corner was full of a table of 16 year olds out on the town. Were we ever that spindly? Courtney and Meng introduce me to the Red Bull and double vodka idea - Red Bull is pure sugar and caffeine and you need the vodka to cut the stimulation. Feels like it has a null effect - when in reality is relaxes and hypes you all at once. There's no quality control on karoke, so we had some good, some terrible. Most were good to great. But the selection list, strangely, didn't include any Abba. Anyway, Meng did a lovely job with "My Guy". We settled into the pub for the evening, and weren't ready to quit at last call. Who shuts the bars at midnight? Sigh. Brian was persuaded not to harm the insanely brave 16 year old who was hitting on Meng. Red bull and vodka does hype people up apparently. At each intersection, Matt waits patiently for the friendly green crossing man to light up then runs across screaming Green man! Green man! At some point, I remember Matt and Brian wearing traffic cones on their heads, but I'd have to check Rob's pictures. We crashed about midnight. One and a half days left in the U.K. � � � 
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