Visited Glasgow for the first time this weekend, a long-time wish considering I'm half Scottish. Was in an alley where my great, great, great grandfather John McGilvray lived in 1825. It's in an area called the Gorbel's and was apparently such a rough spot back then, it was nastier than India and, "no reasonable person would stable their horse there." Everyone warned me ahead of time that it was a tough town and to expect a bar fight or something violent to happen, but I found quite the opposite.
Never met friendlier people in my life - everyone is quick witted and an amateur comedian. They're also the shortest people in the world and it took considerable restraint not to pat them on the head and send 'em looking for charms. Ate haggis and drank scotch and beer like I was preparing for the Highland Games. Found myself in a group of people singing on the street, locked arm in arm - even though we were singing Wonderwall over and over, was still good times. Whenever we got lost, people would walk us to the place we were looking for, then continue on in their own direction. People were as down to earth as I've ever met and when I once thanked a guy for a good conversation, he politely told me we had never spoken, but that I seemed like a nice enough guy and I could chat with him if I wanted to.
The Greatest Food Movies Of All Time, Ranked
1 year ago
1 comment:
The Scots are best consumed drunk. Superlative that you had an enchanting Scottish weekend. Nothing like imbibing and hacking darts with like-minded folk. Also very neat that you gave a large tip o' the cap to your Scottish ancestors. Pip pip.
Post a Comment