After a busy week of studying, I decided to unwind un peu. Glasgow yesterday and Rosslyn Chapel today.
Glasgow First. It is Scotland's largest city and its commercial capital but, to me, it seemed like a European city gone wrong. Far too many people, far too much construction (most of it incongruous), and far too many shopping malls and KFCs for my liking. The city centre is nothing but shopping malls (Princes Square, Argyle Square, St. Enoch Centre, Sauchiehall Centre....) which are reminiscent of the characterless malls of Gurgaon. But amidst all the modernity and bustle, a charming old building would suddenly make an appearance that would remind one of a time gone by...
Glasgow First. It is Scotland's largest city and its commercial capital but, to me, it seemed like a European city gone wrong. Far too many people, far too much construction (most of it incongruous), and far too many shopping malls and KFCs for my liking. The city centre is nothing but shopping malls (Princes Square, Argyle Square, St. Enoch Centre, Sauchiehall Centre....) which are reminiscent of the characterless malls of Gurgaon. But amidst all the modernity and bustle, a charming old building would suddenly make an appearance that would remind one of a time gone by...
The Glaswegians seem aggressiver and obeser than the average Edinburgher - no male on the street would not look out of place in a rowdy football match (with a beer in their hand, naturellement). And the incidence of tatoos, punk hair, piercings and death metal T-Shirts are far too common. Their accent is also a very very thick scottish (difficult to comprehend!) - to me it sounded like a curious mix of Irish and German and I had to remind myself that they are speaking English (or British or Scottish, or whatever).
Well atleast they seemed to be conscious of their obesity. They all had a diet coke/pepsi in their hand (regular ones are not easily found) but the problem is that they all had a Hamburger or fries in their other hand and most of them were on their way to Thorntons (a specialty chocolate shop)!
After an hour long bus-journey through which I slept (the sheep in the countryside don't interest me anymore), I walked out of Buchanan Bus Station straight to George Square - the main city square with a largish city council building on one side and the GPO on the other. The square is dotted with numerous statues of eminent Scotsman (Walter Scott and R. Burns. That is ok BUT how can there be no Sean Connery!). I then ambled over to the Gallery of Modern Art which is housed in a medieval looking building but the inside was extremely avant-garde and scandinavian in design. An interesting exhibit I found was a video display which showed children holding their breath in a moving car. Cute and funny.
The Glasgow Cathedral is gothic in appearance with a tastefully done interior. Behind it is the Necropolis with memorials. The Necropolis is on a mound so it serves as a good introduction to the Glasgow skyline (which fuses modern skyscrapers, with old medieval structures). The grass was green and I spent some time contemplating sorrounded by memories and rememrances of gone Glaswegians. This part of Glasgow is charming and has an old world feel to it and lacks the traffic jams (vehicular and human) which the rest of the city seems to suffer from. This area had the oldest house (1471) and the oldest pub (1515) of Glasgow.
The city has a narrow stream which is respectfully called a river (it even has a name, Clyde) - there is even a suspension bridge (red in colour, please) that straddles Clyde (the biggest univ in Glasgow is called 'University of Strathclyde'). Glasgow is the hub of music in Scotland. Most concerts in Scotland take place here and every third person can be seen carrying a musical instrument (reminds me of the days when I used to carry a guitar which I never learnt to play). The strains of music are never far away, coming from shops or from streetside performers.
There is a flea market on saturdays and sunday which i decided to visit. This was the rougher part of town and poverty was raising its head every now and then. But almost every thing under the sun could be bought (and sold here). I could only manage to pick up a few books. There was a beautiful rocking-chair that i wanted to pick up ;) but wiser counsel prevailed and I didn't.
After a day of walking around, I finally decided to spoil myself - I visited "Willows Tea Room". This is a Tea Room reconstructed on the model of those about a century back - built by Charles Rennie Mackintosh (the architect who has had the most profound influence on the Glaswegian skyline). It was tucked up on the first floor of a jewellery shop (which took me more than an hour to find). The ambience and the service, as expected, was slow and gentle and it relaxed me.
I tried to eavesdrop on the conversations of my neighbours hoping to hear something like "Oh dash! That bugger George is such a chump. He apparently has a damned thing for Lizzie. But, I say, she doesn't quite fancy him so the situation is rather rummy, if you ask me". Sadly I got to hear no such turn-of-the-previous-century conversation - what i heard was Scottish which, obviously, I couldn't decipher. As most you know, I have probably had tea less than four times in my life, so not knowing what to order, I settled for the house-special 'Willow Green Tea'. It, apparently, was an "unfermented tea leaf with a delicate yellow liquor. Light and refreshing with similar properties to Gunpowder tea. Aids digestion". Not being a tea-phile, consumption of the tea did not evoke images of a woman walking in the open meadows with the sea breeze gently caressing her hair. All I could think of was the number of pounds (I am not telling) I spent on the tea and with this scary thought in mind, I walked it back to the bus station to catch a sleepy bus back to Edinburgh.
Today, with a couple of friends went to see the Rosslyn chapel (made famous by the last pages of Mr. Dan Brown's bestseller). It was raining when we were in the bus (Rosslyn, built in the 15th c, is only 6 miles from Edinburgh) but the Sun decided to be kind the moment we stepped out of the bus (Thank you Lord Helios) and it was a 2 minute walk to where the chapel was. Having recently seen the movie ('Da Vinci Code', for those who are still clueless), I expected to see a beautiful chapel with gregorian looking Templar knights desperately trying to protect the Holy Grail. The only thing we could see, while walking towards where the signs pointed to "Rosslyn Chapel", was a tin shed kind of structure. Surely, Tom Hanks and Audrey Tatou did not have a date with history in this tin-shed? But yes they did!
The chapel, I am sure, must be beautiful. IF ONE CAN SEE IT. The whole chapel has been sorrounded on all sides and on the top by an ugly monstrosity. Apparently, this tin / aluminium structure has been built around the chapel to keep the the soil around it dry (which is very wet due to excessive rains) - a kind of umbrella, if you please. But just like an umbrella hides a pretty face in the rain, this permanent (has been there for 10 year, and is going to be there for another 5 years) structure also prevents anyone from seeing the chapel. No one mentioned this to me - neither Dan Brown, nor Ron Howard. Even the official website of the chapel did not mention it (duh! if they did, who would visit).
So we looked at a postcard (which had a picture of the pre-umbrella-installation chapel) and tried very had to imagine what it would have looked like and decided to move on. Alas we did not discover the Holy Grail (not counting a restaurant close-by which was cleverly named so) nor did we see the Rose-line, nor did we meet any knight templars. Ah well, another day maybe.
Disappointed we decided to walk around. We saw the beautiful remains of a castle, met plenty of dogs, trekked around an idyllic stream, rescued a child who decided to slip into the river (I am not joking), got a 360 degree view of the horizon, met a tiny horse species called hellabella (or something like that) , took the wrong route on our way back (and almost got lost in the process) and saw beautiful cloud formations all around. So all in all, an adventure which made the trip worth it and made us forget the disappointment of the tin umbrella.
P.s. - After three weeks in Europe I have finally learnt how to differentiate between an American and a European. Just follow the cacaphony and you will find an American. Be it in a bus, or in the library or in a pub, the American would be making the maximum noise. Which, when compared with a more subtle and soft-spoken European, seems irritating. But one has to get used to the ubiquitious Americans (sadly!).
Another thing I am getting used to here is the concept of personal space. The average European looks down and walks (in Paris, that is ofcourse because they have to be careful not to step on dog merde) so when you are walking on the street you could be grinning wildly or sobbing out hysterically, no one will notice. This is something that I, as a personal-space -constrained-Indian, am learning to come to grips with.
(Oct, 2006)
