Day Seven and Eight

So yesterday morning I got on a bus from the hotel I was staying in to Glasgow.

I like taking the bus because 1) I don't have to drive (there are literally signs to remind drivers to stay in their lane) 2) It's cheaper, and 3) I get to see countryside I never would have seen otherwise. 

 For starters, English radio is weird. It will play something like Frank Sinatra, then move over to Styx, then some Bruno mars, and then some Beatles. 

So much Beatles. Everyone here hums or whistles it under their breath. It's a subconscious thing. 

Also, American football is fascinating to them. It's a novelty, and is often the topic of morning drive game shows. 

Manchester drivers, take this to account: If you stay at a steady speed, instead of flooring it, you won't have to slam on your breaks every time. Cool it zippy. 

 Finally, the topic of the American presidential race is approached with slightly amused horror. Mostly "Can you believe what's going on there?"
Anyway, the drive was one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen. The route took me through the Lake District.
In school we learned of Henry Wordsworth Longfellow and how he roamed the hills of this area, using them as inspiration. I didn't understand how someone would just walk around and be able to write about the things he did.

 Now I do.
I mean, look at that. How can you not love it? Rolling green hills covered in a patchwork of fields, sheep and cattle roaming around. Hedges and old stone fences. Quaint homes and lakes. It's probably one of my favorite places.
After that picture was taken, the road we were on went uphill, and when we crested the plateau we were in Scotland. Immediately there were tall, thick forests of dark pine. The sun moved behind the clouds, and it started raining.
It was very ominous.
Thinking about this area, I don't blame the Romans for sticking to the other side of their wall. The forest is dark and scary, the weather is terrible, and the ground is rockier. Also, not to mention the terrifying natives.
 Once we moved past the forests, though, we came upon this beautiful view.

So after the bus ride through this beautiful country, I get into the center of Glasgow. I stood around waiting for a taxi for a long time. I sat across from the Royal Concert Hall and people watched. It was pleasant, but chilly. At least for someone coming from a place that was 100 when they left.
My room for the next few days is in the west side of Glasgow, near one of their largest parks. It's a half hour walk to the city center, so not too far away. It's a great location with a killer view.

Today I woke up decently early and wandered the park nearby. It's lovely. The trees are changing colors, the river is slow moving, and there are lots and lots of open green spaces and tree-lined pathways. Everything is covered in moss and ivy.

It's a really lovely park, I could spend all day roaming around in it. Instead I went to the Kelvingrove museum, which is absolutely free. If you're ever in Glasgow, I highly recommend it.
It's an old building, constructed in 1901. The architecture alone is amazing, with the interior detail in blond sandstone and gold.

AND THERE IS AN ORGAN IN THE ENTRANCE HALL. With the acoustics similar to that of a cathedral, the short concert given was incredible. I'll try and upload it to Facebook for y'all to see.
After that I stopped at a small cafe for lunch, then came home. Fun fact, nobody smiles at passerby here. I generally smile at others on the street, it's a nice thing to do. Everybody frowns here. And they treat their dogs like children, no leashes. Just a firm command or a call of the name.

I've got to go. Trip planning is hard when you're on the ground running. It's like laying down a track for a train that is moving already.

Til Next Time,
Nita