27 May 2017 - Scotland Day 08 - Glasgow
Evening. I completely forgot that this blog exists yesterday, started writing this morning, forgot that I'd started writing, and here we are!
Day 92 with Lexapro. It's been a couple days since I took any, and I'm waiting for withdrawal to kick in.
Mood: 5.5. Wait, no, a cloud of 5.5 with points of 7.5 interspersed throughout. Like a conglomerate of emotion.
Yesterday was spent exploring Glasgow. Before the trip began, the professor over the program said that there's a definite difference between Glasgow and Edinburgh as far as how the two cities feel, and he's definitely correct. Glasgow feels so much like my native Chicago - thrumming with life, full of gritty people, with so many things to do and see. It's a more industrial city, steel and concrete and straight lines, as opposed to the more reserved, scholarly air of Edinburgh. Both places are equally beautiful, just in radically different ways.
Even though yesterday was my first time visiting, Glasgow felt like home in a way few places do.
We began our stomp around town in the Necropolis, which was beautiful, but eerie, at least to me. Walking among the centuries-old memorials and headstones felt somewhat strange, even though I have a bit of a fascination with cemeteries. Favorite Person and I, true to our natures as science folk, hypothesized about the temporal layout of the cemetery. Where we predicted that the cemetery around St. Andrew's Cathedral got older the closer you got to the center, we hypothesized that the oldest headstones would be found at the top of the hill - the Necropolis is built on a hill, with paths snaking up and around. The oldest headstone we found was from 1826, but while there was a general trend of older headstones being near the top of the hill, it wasn't a very strong one - there were still memorials from the 1910s interspersed between the 1830s and 1840s.
It was odd to me how the Necropolis is just a place that people go to, like a park. It might be a historic location, sure, but it's still a cemetery. Cemeteries, at least in my mind, aren't places for leisurely day trips.
After leaving the city of the dead, Favorite Person and I puttered over to the Glasgow Cathedral, which I have to say was a beautiful piece of human handiwork. The inside, with its extensive detail and high, vaulted ceilings was absolutely stunning, and the sanctuary proper was equally gorgeous. However, for me, there was a gentle sense of being very unwelcome in the church. As an atheist, it felt like a place where I was an interloper, a place where I once belonged, but have long since revoked my membership to. That feeling was the worst in the sanctuary, which is still used as a place of worship. Even though I wanted to take more photos, I didn't feel comfortable taking more than a step inside.
We poked around the lower church next, which had the overall feel of being full of demons ready to leap out of the walls and steal our souls (I've watched a lot of Supernatural.), and was much darker than the rest of the cathedral. There was a small nook in the back that was for prayer, and since I didn't know what its purpose was before looking around, it was a surprise. It ended up being another place permeated by the feeling that I cannot and will not ever belong, and thus do not deserve to enter.
Leaving the lower church and seeking to exit the cathedral, I saw a small area with tealight candles, unlit and ready. The sign indicated that it was a place to light a candle in remembrance of lost loved ones, and while I didn't feel wholly welcome in the cathedral, there was something attractive about lighting a candle. Something attractive, and somehow nonreligious.
I lit two: one for my late great aunt, and one for my great grandmother. Both are women that I regret not speaking to more while they were living.
St. Mungo's museum for religion and religious thingies (yeah, I could look up the full name, but I don't feel like it) was next door to the cathedral, and it had a cafe. I got myself a chicken and mayo sandwich that was very disappointing, a shortbread round, Sprite Zero, and then an empire biscuit. Everything but the sandwich and the soda was to my liking. I mooched off Favorite Person's cheddar and red onion chutney sandwich as well, and it was a better thing to eat than my sad chicken abomination.
The religion museum was okay. There wasn't anything special to me...The most useful thing that I got out of it was a big map of Glasgow, with the places of interest labeled. It was a surprisingly fantastic map, easy to read and use.
Across the street from St. Mungo's was an old house thing that barely generated a blip of interest from me.
In the backyard of that house was a medicine garden, planted in like 2005 or something to show how medicine gardens in the 15, 16, 1700s were like. It was full of plants I recognized, and humming with insect life. Favorite Person politely insisted that I not collect anything.
We looked for a loo after that, and found a public restroom. I'm 100% not a fan of the way public restrooms do in Scotland - I don't want to pay 20p to go pee.
Somehow, we found ourselves on the campus of the University of Strathclyde at Glasgow, and used a park bench to mark up the map, crossing off places we've been already and circling the places we wanted to explore. The group was to meet up at the Gallery of Modern Art, in Glasgow's center, so our day of wandering/exploring was structured around finding and then being near it. It's really a great thing that both of us are adept at reading maps - figuring out how to get to where we wanted to go was a breeze.
Squabbling a tiny bit over which direction to pick and start walking, we compromised and went in a third direction to find a street to begin orienting ourselves (fun fact - to orient oneself, sensu stricto, is to turn to the east). That direction took us through some residence halls, which were apparently not completely vacated.
Once we got to the street that'd take us where we wanted to go, we set off more confidently towards our first goal, City Halls. On the way, we passed by this church with an attached park that turned out to be a cemetery thing. There were extraordinarily tall buttercups growing there ("extraordinarily tall" compared to the 3"-4" tall ones I'm used to....these were something like 2' in height), and I wanted to pick a bunch, sit down, and weave them into a flower crown. I enjoy weaving plants into wreaths and crowns; it's something that I'm good at and it's very relaxing and it's one of the few traditionally feminine activities that I don't feel weird about. The little park had a painfully loud, squeaky gate, and I was very glad to see that there was a second way to get in (exit?).
City Hall was nothing special. Besides, we didn't have access.
The two of us stumbled upon a little marketplace called Merchant Square, ringed with bars and more bars. We perused the wares for sale, but nothing stood out - save for some glass, thistle stir sticks for cocktails, which likely wouldn't survive the trip back to the States.
Since we didn't have a reason to tarry, and were beginning to get sore feet, we sought someplace to sit, and relax, and get something to drink to pop a couple naproxen. (I have a certain proneness to foot issues, and only just recently recovered from the plantar fasciitis that slowed me down in early 2016, so I always carry naproxen with me.) While looking for a place to park our butts, we found a small art store called Cass Art. I entertained the thought of getting a paintbrush for fluffing bees, but I walked past them and instead followed Favorite Person around like a lost sheep. She purchased some fine point markers for her artsy friends, an adult coloring book, and colored pencils. The store had a feel like Dick Blick's, but didn't have nearly as much as far as offerings - Cass only really sold supplies for 2D media.
A bubble tea shop was right down the way from the art store, and we figured that there was as good a place as any to pause, get a drink, and take painkillers. I got an original/vanilla milk tea with strawberry popping boba, and while the tea itself wasn't as good as some other milk teas I've had, the popping boba was interesting in a very good way. I was tempted to just buy a whole cup of the stuff for snacking, but that was money that didn't need spending.
Full of tea and 440mg each of naproxen sodium, Favorite Person and I headed over to find the Gallery of Modern Art (henceforth GoMA because I'm lazy). We found it, popped in, looked around the gift shop, and then resolved to come back and walk around properly after we'd had food. The GoMA was located by a pedestrian street, open-air mall thing. Every decent city in Scotland seems to have one, a "high street", and they (at least to my eye) all look the same. There was a fancy-ish seeming Italian place near the GoMA, and we both felt severely underdressed for the venue. Wandering around, we eventually settled on TGI Friday's, because what else are a pair of Americans in Scotland supposed to eat?
Our waiter was very nice, kind of cute. He asked where we were from - that's a question I've gotten a lot on this trip - and apparently I have more of a Chicago accent than I realize. The food was good, if very salty, and it took longer than expected to get the check from Mr. Dude.
Fed and rested, we walked back to the GoMA and explored it properly, starting at the top and working down through the galleries. The only exhibit that even slightly piqued my interest was one where the artist apparently cancelled the exhibition, so the hall was empty. Even though the signs said that there was no exhibition, this was a gallery of modern art. It struck me as an extended performance piece, challenging our expectations of what an art exhibition is supposed to be.
There's a reason that modern art has a reputation of being pretentious.
We got done at the GoMA around 5, 5:15, and needed to kill time, as we were getting picked up to go back to the house in Piperdam at 7. So, we slowly made our way over to a cooking supply store, since I wanted to see if I could get a thistle apron for my mom. There were no thistle aprons.
Kind of cranky, and getting kind of rained on, we ducked into a Starbucks and sat in the familiar atmosphere, eating pastries and taking advantage of the free WiFi. Or so we wanted; the WiFi was kind of terrible. I ended up playing solitaire for about an hour, and Favorite Person colored.
On the way out of the Starbucks and still with too much time on our hands, one of us spotted a Lush store further down the high street, and we kind of shrugged and figured that it might be a good way to eat up some time.
Oh, boy, was that a good idea.
Favorite Person got a good sunburn while out on Glen Clova, so she was after something to help with that. Being a black girl, and not a particularly light one, I only tan, never burn. The idea of needing special products to recover from too much sun is foreign to me. While she shopped, I kind of played around in the makeup section, with some kind of skin-coloring product, and an associate came up and kind of asked how I was doing, if I was looking for anything in particular, etc. The question of where I was from came up again, and again because of my accent (it's funny to me how, in this country, I'm the one with the accent), and we talked at length about my stay in the country, how I was liking Glasgow. At some point, she started trying different products on my hand, and then my other hand, and oh my god. In those moments, I understood why so many people love Lush. I understood. I didn't catch the names of everything that got rubbed on or into my skin, but the backs of my hands were so soft. So, so, so soft, and so smooth. I'd walked into the store determined to not make any purchases, to just browse, but I had to buy something, since there are very few Lush locations in the States and everything's more expensive on that side of the pond anyway. I really like how everything has ethically sourced ingredients, is made fresh and kinda locally, and how the company is an activist body as well.
Hopefully, I'll be able to get to the Lush in Dundee before this trip's over, because I think that a few things from there would be a great gift for my mother.
Very happy with our purchases, and completely in love with a new company, Favorite Person and I walked back to the GoMA. I think that I was rubbing the back of my hand the entire time.
We met up with the rest of our study abroad group to leave Glasgow for Fowlis.
Dinner last night was cold - couscous salad, potato salad, tomato and onion salad, and a sort of cold cuts meat platter. I made myself little dumplings of sorts with the couscous and the meat; they were good. Dessert was a lemon meringue pie that was kind of bitter, as though pith was used. I wasn't a big fan.
After dinner, Favorite Person and I looked at Lush's spa stuff, and for American locations. There was a little fireworks show in the distance, too.
Today (28 May) wasn't anything special, but I'll stick to my one-day-per-post thing.
Until a little bit later.
28 May 2017
Day 92 with Lexapro. It's been a couple days since I took any, and I'm waiting for withdrawal to kick in.
Mood: 5.5. Wait, no, a cloud of 5.5 with points of 7.5 interspersed throughout. Like a conglomerate of emotion.
Yesterday was spent exploring Glasgow. Before the trip began, the professor over the program said that there's a definite difference between Glasgow and Edinburgh as far as how the two cities feel, and he's definitely correct. Glasgow feels so much like my native Chicago - thrumming with life, full of gritty people, with so many things to do and see. It's a more industrial city, steel and concrete and straight lines, as opposed to the more reserved, scholarly air of Edinburgh. Both places are equally beautiful, just in radically different ways.
Even though yesterday was my first time visiting, Glasgow felt like home in a way few places do.
We began our stomp around town in the Necropolis, which was beautiful, but eerie, at least to me. Walking among the centuries-old memorials and headstones felt somewhat strange, even though I have a bit of a fascination with cemeteries. Favorite Person and I, true to our natures as science folk, hypothesized about the temporal layout of the cemetery. Where we predicted that the cemetery around St. Andrew's Cathedral got older the closer you got to the center, we hypothesized that the oldest headstones would be found at the top of the hill - the Necropolis is built on a hill, with paths snaking up and around. The oldest headstone we found was from 1826, but while there was a general trend of older headstones being near the top of the hill, it wasn't a very strong one - there were still memorials from the 1910s interspersed between the 1830s and 1840s.
It was odd to me how the Necropolis is just a place that people go to, like a park. It might be a historic location, sure, but it's still a cemetery. Cemeteries, at least in my mind, aren't places for leisurely day trips.
After leaving the city of the dead, Favorite Person and I puttered over to the Glasgow Cathedral, which I have to say was a beautiful piece of human handiwork. The inside, with its extensive detail and high, vaulted ceilings was absolutely stunning, and the sanctuary proper was equally gorgeous. However, for me, there was a gentle sense of being very unwelcome in the church. As an atheist, it felt like a place where I was an interloper, a place where I once belonged, but have long since revoked my membership to. That feeling was the worst in the sanctuary, which is still used as a place of worship. Even though I wanted to take more photos, I didn't feel comfortable taking more than a step inside.
We poked around the lower church next, which had the overall feel of being full of demons ready to leap out of the walls and steal our souls (I've watched a lot of Supernatural.), and was much darker than the rest of the cathedral. There was a small nook in the back that was for prayer, and since I didn't know what its purpose was before looking around, it was a surprise. It ended up being another place permeated by the feeling that I cannot and will not ever belong, and thus do not deserve to enter.
Leaving the lower church and seeking to exit the cathedral, I saw a small area with tealight candles, unlit and ready. The sign indicated that it was a place to light a candle in remembrance of lost loved ones, and while I didn't feel wholly welcome in the cathedral, there was something attractive about lighting a candle. Something attractive, and somehow nonreligious.
I lit two: one for my late great aunt, and one for my great grandmother. Both are women that I regret not speaking to more while they were living.
St. Mungo's museum for religion and religious thingies (yeah, I could look up the full name, but I don't feel like it) was next door to the cathedral, and it had a cafe. I got myself a chicken and mayo sandwich that was very disappointing, a shortbread round, Sprite Zero, and then an empire biscuit. Everything but the sandwich and the soda was to my liking. I mooched off Favorite Person's cheddar and red onion chutney sandwich as well, and it was a better thing to eat than my sad chicken abomination.
The religion museum was okay. There wasn't anything special to me...The most useful thing that I got out of it was a big map of Glasgow, with the places of interest labeled. It was a surprisingly fantastic map, easy to read and use.
Across the street from St. Mungo's was an old house thing that barely generated a blip of interest from me.
In the backyard of that house was a medicine garden, planted in like 2005 or something to show how medicine gardens in the 15, 16, 1700s were like. It was full of plants I recognized, and humming with insect life. Favorite Person politely insisted that I not collect anything.
We looked for a loo after that, and found a public restroom. I'm 100% not a fan of the way public restrooms do in Scotland - I don't want to pay 20p to go pee.
Somehow, we found ourselves on the campus of the University of Strathclyde at Glasgow, and used a park bench to mark up the map, crossing off places we've been already and circling the places we wanted to explore. The group was to meet up at the Gallery of Modern Art, in Glasgow's center, so our day of wandering/exploring was structured around finding and then being near it. It's really a great thing that both of us are adept at reading maps - figuring out how to get to where we wanted to go was a breeze.
Squabbling a tiny bit over which direction to pick and start walking, we compromised and went in a third direction to find a street to begin orienting ourselves (fun fact - to orient oneself, sensu stricto, is to turn to the east). That direction took us through some residence halls, which were apparently not completely vacated.
Once we got to the street that'd take us where we wanted to go, we set off more confidently towards our first goal, City Halls. On the way, we passed by this church with an attached park that turned out to be a cemetery thing. There were extraordinarily tall buttercups growing there ("extraordinarily tall" compared to the 3"-4" tall ones I'm used to....these were something like 2' in height), and I wanted to pick a bunch, sit down, and weave them into a flower crown. I enjoy weaving plants into wreaths and crowns; it's something that I'm good at and it's very relaxing and it's one of the few traditionally feminine activities that I don't feel weird about. The little park had a painfully loud, squeaky gate, and I was very glad to see that there was a second way to get in (exit?).
City Hall was nothing special. Besides, we didn't have access.
The two of us stumbled upon a little marketplace called Merchant Square, ringed with bars and more bars. We perused the wares for sale, but nothing stood out - save for some glass, thistle stir sticks for cocktails, which likely wouldn't survive the trip back to the States.
Since we didn't have a reason to tarry, and were beginning to get sore feet, we sought someplace to sit, and relax, and get something to drink to pop a couple naproxen. (I have a certain proneness to foot issues, and only just recently recovered from the plantar fasciitis that slowed me down in early 2016, so I always carry naproxen with me.) While looking for a place to park our butts, we found a small art store called Cass Art. I entertained the thought of getting a paintbrush for fluffing bees, but I walked past them and instead followed Favorite Person around like a lost sheep. She purchased some fine point markers for her artsy friends, an adult coloring book, and colored pencils. The store had a feel like Dick Blick's, but didn't have nearly as much as far as offerings - Cass only really sold supplies for 2D media.
A bubble tea shop was right down the way from the art store, and we figured that there was as good a place as any to pause, get a drink, and take painkillers. I got an original/vanilla milk tea with strawberry popping boba, and while the tea itself wasn't as good as some other milk teas I've had, the popping boba was interesting in a very good way. I was tempted to just buy a whole cup of the stuff for snacking, but that was money that didn't need spending.
Full of tea and 440mg each of naproxen sodium, Favorite Person and I headed over to find the Gallery of Modern Art (henceforth GoMA because I'm lazy). We found it, popped in, looked around the gift shop, and then resolved to come back and walk around properly after we'd had food. The GoMA was located by a pedestrian street, open-air mall thing. Every decent city in Scotland seems to have one, a "high street", and they (at least to my eye) all look the same. There was a fancy-ish seeming Italian place near the GoMA, and we both felt severely underdressed for the venue. Wandering around, we eventually settled on TGI Friday's, because what else are a pair of Americans in Scotland supposed to eat?
Our waiter was very nice, kind of cute. He asked where we were from - that's a question I've gotten a lot on this trip - and apparently I have more of a Chicago accent than I realize. The food was good, if very salty, and it took longer than expected to get the check from Mr. Dude.
Fed and rested, we walked back to the GoMA and explored it properly, starting at the top and working down through the galleries. The only exhibit that even slightly piqued my interest was one where the artist apparently cancelled the exhibition, so the hall was empty. Even though the signs said that there was no exhibition, this was a gallery of modern art. It struck me as an extended performance piece, challenging our expectations of what an art exhibition is supposed to be.
There's a reason that modern art has a reputation of being pretentious.
We got done at the GoMA around 5, 5:15, and needed to kill time, as we were getting picked up to go back to the house in Piperdam at 7. So, we slowly made our way over to a cooking supply store, since I wanted to see if I could get a thistle apron for my mom. There were no thistle aprons.
Kind of cranky, and getting kind of rained on, we ducked into a Starbucks and sat in the familiar atmosphere, eating pastries and taking advantage of the free WiFi. Or so we wanted; the WiFi was kind of terrible. I ended up playing solitaire for about an hour, and Favorite Person colored.
On the way out of the Starbucks and still with too much time on our hands, one of us spotted a Lush store further down the high street, and we kind of shrugged and figured that it might be a good way to eat up some time.
Oh, boy, was that a good idea.
Favorite Person got a good sunburn while out on Glen Clova, so she was after something to help with that. Being a black girl, and not a particularly light one, I only tan, never burn. The idea of needing special products to recover from too much sun is foreign to me. While she shopped, I kind of played around in the makeup section, with some kind of skin-coloring product, and an associate came up and kind of asked how I was doing, if I was looking for anything in particular, etc. The question of where I was from came up again, and again because of my accent (it's funny to me how, in this country, I'm the one with the accent), and we talked at length about my stay in the country, how I was liking Glasgow. At some point, she started trying different products on my hand, and then my other hand, and oh my god. In those moments, I understood why so many people love Lush. I understood. I didn't catch the names of everything that got rubbed on or into my skin, but the backs of my hands were so soft. So, so, so soft, and so smooth. I'd walked into the store determined to not make any purchases, to just browse, but I had to buy something, since there are very few Lush locations in the States and everything's more expensive on that side of the pond anyway. I really like how everything has ethically sourced ingredients, is made fresh and kinda locally, and how the company is an activist body as well.
Hopefully, I'll be able to get to the Lush in Dundee before this trip's over, because I think that a few things from there would be a great gift for my mother.
Very happy with our purchases, and completely in love with a new company, Favorite Person and I walked back to the GoMA. I think that I was rubbing the back of my hand the entire time.
We met up with the rest of our study abroad group to leave Glasgow for Fowlis.
Dinner last night was cold - couscous salad, potato salad, tomato and onion salad, and a sort of cold cuts meat platter. I made myself little dumplings of sorts with the couscous and the meat; they were good. Dessert was a lemon meringue pie that was kind of bitter, as though pith was used. I wasn't a big fan.
After dinner, Favorite Person and I looked at Lush's spa stuff, and for American locations. There was a little fireworks show in the distance, too.
Today (28 May) wasn't anything special, but I'll stick to my one-day-per-post thing.
Until a little bit later.
28 May 2017
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