July 27-28th, Glasgow

After bidding farewell to Cupar, I caught the early evening train to Glasgow. It's only about an hour's train ride but by the time I got off at Glasgow Queen Street, I was very tired. It had been such an emotional few days with the Gathering and then seeing Cupar and wishing that the family had left some kind of record behind. The train ride was, as always, lovely though. I passed along rivers with white sailboats and green, green hills.

Up until a few years ago I had no ties in Glasgow. My stepmother had been born there and lived there until she was 12 but that was all. And my encounters with Glaswegians hadn't been the best, except during 9/11 when dh and I visited Pollock House while we were waiting for the time to go to the airport to fly home. But a few years ago a genealogist that I'd hired to obtain some of the Campbell family records had uncovered a living second cousin (same great grandparents). She gave me her address in Glasgow and I wrote to her, enclosing an old family photo that had been a mystery to me. Enid wrote back and told me that was her great grandmother's ruby wedding anniversary and identified the great aunts and great uncles and cousins in the photo. It was wonderful so, when I decided to go to Scotland, I e-mail'd her and asked if we could meet face-to-face. She said yes so I detoured to Glasgow on my way up to the West Highlands. Wasn't much of a detour as the West Highland train goes from Glasgow and my BritRail pass, once again, proved wonderful.

So here I was on a Monday evening, arrived in a city I'd not really been in before--so what else is new--trying to find my hotel in Sauciehall Street which supposedly was "not far" from

Glasgow Queen Street station. I didn't want to take a taxi because I was low on cash. So I approached a fellow at the station and asked him where "sauce-ee-hall" street was. He looked at my quizzically at first and then said "Sockeeall"? (said very quickly as if he had marbles in his mouth). "Down that way two blocks, turn right." Oh,

okay, Sockeeall. Once again dragging my baggage, I trudged off. Down two blocks, street name is not Sockeeall. Ask someone else who also has marbles in his mouth. "Go two blocks, turn right." Oh okay. At this point I needed a bit of levity and this statue provided it. I giggled and thought that any city that had that kind of humor was okay with me.

Another two blocks and I thought I'd check with one more person. More garbling but I was going in the right direction and, after six more blocks, I did indeed find Sauciehall. The hotel address was 900, I was at 100. Oh great, 800 addresses to go. So I once again gripped my rollaway with a by-now aching hand and off I went. Ten minutes later I arrived at the hotel. Which had stairs up to the entrance, no ramp (how DO people with wheelchairs manage in these old cities?) I heaved the bags up the stairs, and dragged myself over to the counter. I said that I was checking in and I sincerely hoped they had a lift (elevator) up to my room. The clerk smiled sympathetically and said, yes, they had a lift. Oh bliss!

And when I got into the room the bathroom also actually had a tub!!! (The past four nights I've only had a shower and golly was I aching.) Small problem--the cold tap for the bath didn't work. I didn't feel like phoning down to the desk at 9:30 as I'd already unpacked so I pondered a moment and noticed that the shower had a separate tap arrangement. BUT the shower's water would flow into the tub.... Yep, that worked and I finally had the soak I'd been longing for. Clean, my muscles happy at last. I crawled into bed with my book ("Brat Farrar" by Josephine Tey--wonderful) and had a lovely night.

The next morning I set off to meet Enid at her house. She'd given me very good bus directions and we had a great time together. She told me about my great aunt (her grandmother)

and what a loving family they'd been. I never knew any great aunts on my paternal grandfather's side. I wish my dad could have heard that (well, he probably did hear it if he was listening in on the other side) but he knows them all now. After visiting together and having lunch, Enid took me by taxi to Kelvingrove Art Gallery on the grounds of the University of Glasgow. As we entered the foyer, an organist was playing--you can see him on the upper level in this photo. And the museum was very busy with families; so nice to see young children being exposed to art. Kelvingrove also currently has a large Doctor Who exhibit. I am not a Doctor Who fan (sorry) so we visited exhibits of the works of Scottish colourists, the Glasgow school and Charles Rennie Mackintosh, who designed in the Art Nouveau style. I was very attracted to his furniture--quite beautiful. Very clean, long lines with stained glass inserts from time to time.

We had a bowl of soup and I took a photo of her to remember this lovely day then we rode the bus back into the main part of Glasgow and Enid went home and I meandered around Sauciehall arcade, looking at shops. Then I went to a pub and had a good dinner, went back to the hotel, decided against another bath and went to bed. It would be an early morning tomorrow.