My trip began in Glasgow, Scotland’s largest city, which is located on the River Clyde in Scotland’s Central Lowlands, 90 miles north of the border with England. Once I arrived in the city, I settled into my hotel on Bath Street (so named because public baths were located on this street in earlier times) and treated myself to afternoon tea at a charming nearby tea room, The Butterfly and The Pig.
As soon as I walked into the tea room, I was overwhelmed by the mouth-watering aroma of buttery baked goods. I briefly considered ordering the full afternoon tea (a three-tiered assortment of tea sandwiches and fancy cakes and pastries), but instead, I ordered the more modest cream tea, which consists of a pot of tea accompanied by a scone with jam and clotted cream. Along with the pot of Darjeeling tea came the biggest scone I’d ever seen – and it was the most delicious scone I’d ever eaten.
Once I was fully hydrated and energized, I decided to take a walk through the neighborhood. A brisk wind blew me down Bath Street in the direction of a tall spire, which turned out to belong to Saint Andrews West Parish Church.
One of my first impressions of Glasgow’s historic center was how colorful it was. Stairs were lined with planters, bright blossoms overflowed window boxes, and garlands of greenery framed doorways. Another thing I noticed right away was the constant presence of seagulls swooping overhead, reminding me that Glasgow was located not far from the coast. lots of seagulls swooping around the constant sight and sound of seagulls reminded me that I was near the coast and that Glasgow has always been an important port.
Most of the buildings on the Bath Street appeared to be from an earlier era but there were plenty of newer structures as well, such as my hotel. And the presence of several cranes attested to the construction of new buildings on surrounding streets.
The lower floors of many of the buildings had been converted into art galleries, boutiques, and restaurants.
I glanced down a side street and got a glimpse of Sauchiehall (pronounced suckeehall) Street, which runs parallel to Bath Street. Much of Sauchiehall Street is pedestrian-only and it’s one of the main commercial streets in the city center. With its familiar retail giants (H&M, for example) and abundant souvenir shops catering to tourists, I found that it lacked the charm of Bath Street. However, many smaller ethnic eateries are located on Sauchiehall Street.
When I awoke the next morning, I quickly dressed and hurried down to breakfast. I’m always curious about breakfast in different countries and I was hoping for the type of lavish buffet often found in hotels. However, my introduction to Scottish breakfast was less than overwhelming. The buffet featured cold items (a few fresh fruits, yogurt, cold cereal), plus scrambled eggs, bacon (similar to Canadian bacon), sausage links, baked beans, water-logged cooked tomato halves, sautéed mushrooms, potatoes, and some basic looking sliced bread. I could have ordered a full Scottish cooked breakfast from the menu, which would have added black pudding (made with blood) to the mix, but I opted instead for yogurt, berry compote, and a buttered slice of toast.
Since my OAT adventure didn’t begin until the following morning, I had a full day on own. I had already planned my activities. I would take the subway from the city center to a stop in the West End that was a short walk to the Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum. I was eager to see their collection of work by architect and designer Charles Rennie Mackintosh.
It was interesting to be in a less touristy part of the city. The buildings were lower and as I walked down Dumbarton Road, I passed by thrift stores, pawn shops, and many different ethnic grocery stores and eateries – Indian, Korean, Chinese, Italian, etc. After crossing the Kelvin River and continuing on Argyle Street, I found myself looking up at the imposing Spanish Baroque style red sandstone building from the late 1800s that houses the Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum.
I spent a few enjoyable hours at the Kelvingrove, wandering through its diverse collections. I quickly found the exhibition devoted to Glasgow Style, the distinctive Scottish design from the Art Nouveau era (late 19th and early 20th centuries). There were several beautiful pieces designed by Glasgow based designers Charles Rennie Mackintosh, Margaret Macdonald Mackintosh, and Marion Henderson Wilson.
I loved seeing the examples of stained glass from this period.
The Kelvingrove contains so many different collections that it seems like several museums in one. On the entrance level, there’s an enormous stuffed Asian elephant overlooking the expansive hall along with exhibits of animals that would be right at home in a natural history museum.
There’s an airplane suspended from ceiling, which called to mind Washington’s Air and Space Museum. The exhibit of Egyptian antiquities would be at home in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. Of course, there are also exhibits devoted to the history of Scotland. And then there’s the art gallery, where the biggest crowds gathered in front of Salvador Dali’s Christ of St. John of the Cross. The painting, done in 1951, was inspired by a sketch done by Saint John of the Cross, a 16th century Carmelite friar of Converso ancestry who lived in Spain.
I stopped to look at paintings related to Scottish history, such as The White Cockade, an 1899 painting by William Ewart Lockhart which romanticizes the Jacobite uprising that ended in the bloody battle at Culloden in 1746. The soldier holds a white rose, symbol of the Jacobite cause. Their goal was to restore the exiled Catholic King James VII of Scotland and II of England to the British throne.
I was grateful for the helpful signage that included a copy of a portrait of Charles Edward Stuart, better known as Bonnie Prince Charlie, by Hugh Douglas Hamilton. It explained that Charles was the grandson of the exiled king. In 1745, he sailed to Scotland in support of the Jacobite uprising. After the decisive Jacobite defeat in the bloody battle at Culloden in 1746, Charles escaped to the continent and never returned to Scotland.
I'm always interested in seeing works I haven't seen before by artists I'm familiar with. In this case, it was a bright and lively 1880 painting by Claude Monet titled Vetheuil.
And Camille Pissarro was represented by The Tuileries Gardens, painted in 1900.
For more recent art, there’s a 1996 statue of Elvis Presley entitled Return to Sender by Sean Read.
Walking through various collections, I was impressed with how the museum is set up to engage visitors of all ages. At 1pm, the sounds from the free daily organ recital, accompanied by a band of local bagpipers, flooded the main hall with rousing sound. Like most museums in Scotland, Kelvingrove receives state support and charges no entrance fee. It’s certainly a museum for everyone. Of course, my final stop in the museum was the well-stocked gift shop. I had fun picking out Mackintosh-inspired jewelry items.
The second morning, faced with the same uninspiring breakfast buffet (soggy tomatoes and mushrooms), I discovered much more satisfying option – porridge! There’s no better way to prepare for a day of notoriously fickle Scottish weather (damp, cold, mist, wind, rain, drizzle) than with a bracing bowl of steel cut oats, preferably cooked in milk. And I was delighted to see it accompanied by a tasty berry compote and a little pitcher of maple syrup. I wondered, do they have maple trees in Scotland?
Our OAT adventure officially got underway when Dave Campbell, a genuine Weegie (native of Glasgow), led us on a tour through several different districts of Glasgow. Along the way, we learned that Glasgow, unlike many other cities in Britain, developed in the Middle Ages around a monastery rather than a castle. Located on the River Clyde, it was never a gated city. The historic center, where our hotel was located, was filled with townhouses belonging to the city’s rich merchants. Due to the Glasgow’s location on the River Clyde, trade (in tobacco and slaves) and shipbuilding were important sources of the city’s income in the 19th century. From the early 1800s until the mid-1800s, the buildings were constructed of light-colored sandstone. Starting around 1850, red sandstone was the favored building material. Sandstone is relatively soft, making it difficult to clean. As a result, much of Glasgow looks like it could use a good scrub.
Today, Glasgow is Scotland’s biggest city, with a population of 680000 in the city proper but around 1.7 million in the metropolitan area. The name of the city is derived from the Gaelic for “dear green hollow or valley.”
Walking down Buchanan Street, a bustling commercial street with an Apple store and H&M, among other retail establishments, we came to Nelson Mandela Square. The square was previously known as Saint George’s Place, in honor of King George III (the king during the American War for Independence). Dave noted that George may be the patron saint of England, but the name George has never been popular in Scotland. And the building that was previously St. George’s Tron Church of Scotland is now occupied by a coffee shop.
After walking a few minutes on George Street, we came to Merchant City, an area of beautiful old buildings in Glasgow’s East End. In earlier times, the market took place at the ancient market cross, i.e. crossroads. A tall clock tower still standing at this location is the oldest structure in Merchant City. The tower, which dates back to 1622, served as a tollbooth and contained a “tron,” an ancient type of weighing scale. The surrounding area was filled the homes and warehouses of the city’s merchants. Nowadays, many of the buildings have been turned into restaurants, bars, cafes, and boutiques.
Also at the crossroads, Dave pointed out the statue of a unicorn, the national animal of Scotland. In Celtic mythology, the unicorn is associated with purity, innocence, strength, power, and freedom.
As we walked past nearby St. Andrew’s Church, Dave pointed out the city’s coat of arms on the building’s façade: the bell, the tree, the fish, and the bird. All of the symbols are related to Saint Mungo, Glasgow’s founder and patron saint. He was a missionary who is considered the founder of the city of Glasgow in the Brittonic Kingdom of Strathclyde in the late 6th century. Brittonic refers to the language and Celtic people of ancient Great Britain as opposed to the Celtic people of Ireland.
Our next stop was Glasgow Cathedral, where Saint Mungo is buried.
We saw the city’s symbols hanging from poles immediately outside the cathedral.
Few traces remain of the original monastery and church Saint Mungo established on the site of the current cathedral, a 12th century Gothic structure. It’s one of the few medieval churches in Scotland that survived the Protestant Reformation, which took place in the 1560s, after John Knox returned to Scotland. During the Reformation, the church was stripped of its art and ornate decoration. In fact, you can still see marks on the stone columns where adornments were torn off. The ceiling of the church resembles an overturned ship’s hull, a reminder that Jesus was a fisherman.
According to Dave, although the interior of the church looks rather austere today, it would have been quite colorful in earlier times as all the stone surfaces would have been painted over.
During World War 2, the cathedral’s stained-glass windows were shattered. They were replaced in the 1950s. You can see the Scottish influence in the coat of arms of Glasgow and the angel playing a bagpipe.
There was also a lovely abstract stained-glass window.
Today, the cathedral is used for concerts and recitals as well as for regular services of the Church of Scotland (Presbyterian).
Then it was time to move on to the University of Glasgow, whose buildings are perched up on a steep hill overlooking the Kelvin River in the city’s West End. Founded in 1451, it’s the world’s fourth oldest English-speaking university and it’s one of the reasons Glasgow has such a large international student population. We admired the medieval buildings as we walked through the quadrangle.
The Lion and Unicorn Staircase is a popular photo stop for tourists. It was built in 1690 but moved to its present location in 1872. The unicorn, the symbol of Scotland, is the only animal that can kill the lion, the symbol of England.
Not all of the university buildings are actually as old as they look because even the newer ones are built in the old style. For example, Dave noted the empty statue niches on the façade of the building housing the university museum. This would seem to indicate that the building predated the Reformation, when the statues would have been removed. However, he informed us that the building was actually built in the 19thcentury in Gothic revival style. The architect added the empty statue niches to make it look older.
On our way down from the University campus towards Kelvingrove Park, we passed a statue of religious reformer John Knox.
After Dave concluded his tour outside the Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum, which I’d previously visited, I recalled some of his parting words. With an obvious sense of pride, he described today’s Glasgow as a multicultural city that proudly welcomes immigrants and refugees and doesn’t hesitate to acknowledge the role that trade in tobacco and slaves played in its acquisition of wealth. I couldn’t help thinking if only that were the case everywhere, the world would be a better place.
I continued to reflect on what I’d learned about Glasgow during a delicious and relaxing lunch back in the city center. At The Red Onion, a restaurant Stephen had recommended, I ordered a goat cheese salad and a smoked haddock fish cake and decided that Scottish food had some redeeming qualities after all.
My afternoon activity, which I had arranged before coming to Scotland, was a tour of Glasgow’s historic Garnet Hill synagogue and Jewish community center. Fortunately, this was located within easy walking distance of the city center. However, to reach the building required walking up a very steep hill to the Garnet Hill neighborhood. At its height, the Jewish community of Glasgow numbered about 21,000. The community has now shrunk to about 4,000. In addition to the traditional Orthodox Garnet Hill synagogue, Glasgow has a Reform synagogue on the south side of the city.
From exhibits, I learned that Jews were first recorded as living in Scotland in the 17th century. However, their numbers remained quite small. A viable Jewish community didn’t develop until Jewish immigrants from central Europe came to live in Scotland in the 1800s. Immigration increased later in the 19th century. Most Jewish immigrants settled in Glasgow and Edinburgh. At the same time, small communities were also established in cities and towns throughout Scotland where Jewish immigrants started shops and businesses. The woman who led the tour mentioned that her mother had come to Glasgow from Vienna as part of the Kindertransport, which brought Jewish children from Nazi-controlled countries to the United Kingdom from 1938 to 1940.
Construction of Garnet Hill synagogue began in 1877. Prior to that time, services were held in other spaces throughout the city. All of the decorations in the synagogue were made in Glasgow with the exception of the floor tiles.
The sanctuary has two doors, one for men and one for women. The upper level, where women traditionally sat during services, is no longer used. The synagogue has only 70 members, most of whom are elderly.
I took a leisurely walk down Sauchiehall Street on my way back to the hotel, browsing, but not buying, in souvenir shops.
I was looking forward to our official Welcome Dinner in Mackintosh at the Willow, located in an 1864 tenement building on Sauchiehall Street, just a few blocks from the hotel. The Willow restaurant and its tea rooms opened in 1903. Charles Rennie Mackintosh was responsible for every aspect of the establishment’s exterior and interior design, from the windows to the furniture to the cutlery. Our group was seated in the upper level Gentlemen’s Billiards Room. The menu included several Scottish culinary specialties. I passed up the first of many opportunities to try haggis, the traditional Scottish dish. At the Willow, the mixture of sheep’s liver, heart, and lungs and oatmeal, suet, onion, and spices was hidden in a pastry bundle but the disguise couldn’t fool me. Those of my group who dared to try this supposed delicacy declared it delicious.
I was quite happy with my starter of smoked Scottish salmon. After a perfectly acceptable main course of roast chicken in a whisky-cream sauce, I had no qualms about trying the traditional sticky toffee pudding for dessert.
The next day began under heavy cloud cover. I’d already learned how changeable Scottish weather could be. It was not unusual to experience several seasons in a single day. Now that rain was in the forecast, I couldn’t complain. After all, I was lucky that I’d seen a bright blue sky during my first couple of days in Glasgow. At least the temperatures remained in the comfortable range, i.e. 60s and 70s, which was certainly preferable to the heat that the Washington area was probably experiencing back home.
Right after breakfast we set off for the village of Alloway, home of Scottish poet Robert (affectionately known to the Scots as Robbie) Burns. The village is located on the coast of the Firth of Clyde (an estuary of the River Clyde), about an hour southwest of Glasgow, in the county of Ayrshire. As soon as we were out of the city, we passed golf courses where golfers weren’t letting the drizzle stop them from enjoying a round. With all the rain Scotland receives, green is the dominant color of the landscape, even on a gray day.
As much as I enjoyed Glasgow, I was very happy to be out in the countryside. In Ayrshire, cattle and sheep were grazing on the gently rolling hills that stretched to the horizon. I assumed the sheep would be raised for their wool but Stephen told us that wool production isn’t very important anymore. Both the cattle and sheep provide meat and dairy products. He also told us that crops grown in this area include cereals (including barley for brewing), thin-skinned Ayrshire potatoes (called tatties), carrots, and turnips (called neeps). He also pointed out the poly tunnels, i.e. plastic shelters where “soft fruits” such as strawberries and raspberries are grown.
While we were on the coach (our bus), Stephen entertained us by reciting the Burns poem Address to a Haggis, in the original Scots language. Eating haggis is part of the annual Burns night celebration that takes place on January 25. And speaking of language, I learned that three main languages have traditionally been used in Scotland: The Brittonic languages (related to Irish Gaelic) spoken by Celtic people prior to the arrival of the Angles, Scots (a Germanic language that started to develop around 600 CE after the arrival of the Angles), and English.
When we reached the village of Alloway, we met up with our local guide, Allan, who looked and sounded like the epitome of a Scotsman from the Lowlands.
Allan led us through the tidy village along a path bordered by a dyke, i.e. a dry stone wall built without cement. These are common throughout Scotland.
We stopped to look at several works of art related to poems by Burns. A local artist created the wicker sculpture that depicts Tam O’Shanter, the hero of a narrative poem written in a mixture of Scots and English.
The oversized statue of a mouse is a nod to the Burns poem To a Mouse.
And since Burns wrote a poem about haggis, there’s even a sculpture of an enormous haggis.
The rustic thatched-roof cottage where Robert Burns was born in 1759 was built in 1750. He was the oldest of seven children. The walls of the cottage were three feet thick and the floors were dirt. One room was the stable where animals were kept. Another room was where all the family members slept. A fireplace where coal logs were burned provided heat.
His father, William Burns, a tenant farmer, had been on the losing side of the Jacobite uprising and lost everything he owned. As a result, the family suffered from extreme poverty. Burns had only three years of formal education, which wasn’t unusual for the child of a lower middle class or working class family.
Allan told us that Burns supported himself by working as a customs and excise officer. At the age of twenty-five, he wrote a poem, Man Was Made to Mourn: A Dirge, about the exploitation of the poor by the rich and powerful. The poem contains the phrase “man’s inhumanity to man.” A few years later, he wrote the lyrics to the song A Slave’s Lament. In his poem A Man’s a Man for a’ That, he expressed his belief that all people were equal regardless of where they’re born and who their parents were. While Burns had strong opinions, he had to avoid talking or writing about politics in order to keep his job.
After showing us the cottage, Allan led us to the cemetery of Alloway Auld Kirk (Old Church) where William Burns is buried. Robert Burns is buried in the Scottish town of Dumfries, where he was living when he died at the age of 37.
Since Alloway is located beside the River Doon, we walked over to the bridge that was immortalized in another Burns poem and in the musical Brigadoon. Until then, I hadn’t realized that Brig o’Doon simply meant bridge over the Doon.
Before we returned to the center of Glasgow, we stopped in East Glasgow, a working class neighborhood, to have lunch at a women-led collective called Soul Food Sisters. The group was formed to help immigrant women from diverse backgrounds overcome social isolation and to develop their talents so they can start their own businesses. The lavish and delicious meal they prepared for us included salad, chicken pies, a Pakistani rice dish, spiced couscous, green beans, and Algerian biscuits.
The day concluded with a home hosted dinner in Giffnock, a suburb of Glasgow. Our hosts were a delightful couple, Kevin and Lindsay, the parents of three teenage boys. Much of the conversation revolved around the importance of football (the sport Americans call soccer) to people living in the U.K. Traditionally, there was an intense rivalry between Glasgow’s two principal football clubs. The Celtics have been supported by the Catholic community while the Rangers have been supported by the Protestant community. Kevin assured us that it isn’t an indication of hostility between Glaswegians of different religious backgrounds. In fact, religion is much less important nowadays, especially to younger people. Kevin and Lindsay were a perfect example. He came from a Catholic family while she was raised in the Church of Scotland. They told us that their parents weren’t thrilled by the match, but that such “mixed” marriages are increasingly common.
And on that positive note, our stay in Glasgow drew to a close. We’d be leaving the next morning for the city of Oban. I felt a real fondness for Glasgow and the Glaswegians. I admire their energy, their industriousness, their openness to new ideas, and the way they acknowledge the role played in creating their city by those whose names aren’t necessarily inscribed on plaques and monuments.
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