I’ve never known quite what to make of Glasgow.
While it might be the largest city in Scotland, with a vibrant retail centre, handsome suburbs and a busy subway, Glasgow also lacks the beaches of Aberdeen, the parks of Edinburgh and the Northern charm of Inverness.
Having never spent more than a single day (or, more often than not, night) exploring the town, I this weekend found myself with some time to kill in between commitments at the Glasgow Film Festival. When not rushing from Glasgow Film Theatre to Cineworld along the length of Renfrew Street, I took the time to explore a number of the side streets and surrounding areas, almost immediately finding a small but scenic little enclave just along from the cinema.
Following a Saturday morning screening of Beautiful Creatures on the fifth floor of the world’s tallest cinema, and a trip to GFT to pick up my allocated press tickets, I travelled out of the centre by subway to Kelvinhall Station to meet a friend for dinner. Settling on The New York Kitchen on Dumbarton Road, I ordered a burger and drank in the Ketchup reds and mustard yellows of the themed decor.
With four films to watch and a festival podcast to record on Sunday, I breakfasted with Glasgow Evening Times’ house film critic and settled down for a full day of low-budget British horror, Irish musical comedy, Hitchcockian thriller and Nicole Kidman peeing on Zac Efron. After comparing notes at The Butterfly And The Pig, I returned to GFT for soup and a roll and settled in for my next film.
Stumbling out of the cinema at the back of eight, only then remembering that the subway closed early on a Sunday, I strolled down to Central Station to try and catch a train out to Partick where I had been staying. Pointed in the right direction by the woman selling tickets, I headed down to my platform and back out to the West End.
With nothing planned for Monday and a morning to kill before my bus back to Dundee, I unpacked my camera and headed back into the city centre. Despite the weather, I found myself warming to Glasgow as I was swept down Buchanan Street by swarming commuters and left astride Glasgow Bridge just in time to watch the sun rise over River Clyde.
By the time I boarded my bus at Buchanan Street station I was not only looking forward to returning the following weekend for another slate of films, but to getting another chance to explore. After all, now that I’ve has been awarded Wanderlust’s Blog Of The Week, I suppose I should really get looking — I still have a niche to find.