Last year, Easter 2017, I have stepped my feet in a country with which I completely fell in love with. That country was Scotland and could not stop thinking about going back since then. So, Easter 2018, had Scotland as a destination as well.
I was afraid the spell would be broken. I thought all reasons for my liking rested upon how lucky I had been with the weather, it was just Edinburg, not the country. Or perhaps that tour I took to the Loch Ness with the best tour guide I could have ever asked for, who dazzled my mind and entertained my fertile imagination with stories of the clans in the highlands.
This time I went to Glasgow and visited Loch Lomond area. And now that I am back, I can seriously say I do love Scotland and I don’t think I have ever felt this way about a place. If this was an actual love story between two people, I could say I am ready for serious commitment. And, believe me, I am never that person.
Perhaps Scotland is my mistress. Is that place that makes me feel free, careless, bringing the best of me to the surface. There is something in the air, I cannot explain. Today I was reading a NatGeo article about ancestry and how we are all connected. How some people were amazed by their DNA tests, finding they had ancestry in parts of the world they would never expect. Maybe many, many, many years ago, someone in my bloodline was from Scotland. Perhaps I share some of that DNA, explaining why I feel like Scotland is like home. Even though I am from the very south of Europe.
I think it’s universally acknowledged that Scotland is a beautiful country. But so are so many others. All of this to say there is something special about it. At least, to me. I wish I could explain you better. Have you ever felt like this? Like you’re home in a completly strange place? As if you lived there in another life.
Glasgow is different from Edinburgh. Edinburgh is an innocent child, playing by the ocean, keeping the features of a past lost but which we still want to live. Glasgow is the grown adult, the lost naivety. It’s the industrial revolution, the chants of modern machines, the arrival of commercial ships.
Glasgow might not have the enchantment of old dear Edinburgh. But it is surely good. Great architecture and beautiful museums, a university that makes you feel like you’re in Hogwarts, a good choice of art galleries. And then there’s the Necropolis on a hill, something you’ll definitely enjoy if you have a dark interest in Victorian, old, decrepit and abandoned cemeteries – something I surely have.
However, I must say, what I really enjoyed about the streets of Glasgow was the lack of crowds of tourists, queues to get in all sort of places. It was definitely a good change for someone that lives and breathes London at all times, based in an area such as Camden where all year round crowds of tourists make you cringe in despair.
Let’s get to the practicalities. From Glasgow airport to the city center is quick 15 minutes bus ride. Despite being the third biggest city in the UK, I found that you could easily walk everywhere. I will always prefer using my own legs when I have time and distances are reasonable – it will allow you to embrace the place where you are, dive in its culture, appreciating its streets, buildings, architecture.
The Kelvingrove Museum
It’s a mix of a natural history museum and art gallery. I personally appreciated the art gallery more, and the building is absolutely stunning.
University of Glasgow & Hunterian Museum
Because sometimes we all enjoy that feeling of belonging to a different world. Harry Potter like style.
Necropolis and Glasgow Cathedral
Probably of my favorite things in Glasgow. This Victorian cemetery is a Oscar Wilde’s dream. The cathedral is probably the only remaining building from medieval Era and it creates the perfect spooky atmosphere I so much adore.
Ashton Lane
A cozy corner of nice restaurants and bars at a good price!
The Lighthouse
Designed by famous architect Mackintosh, who left his mark in the streets of Glasgow. You’ll find Mackintosh is basically a hero for Glasgowians.
Love,
Nic
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