However, I did find a seat and a pen, and wrote a small account of the day:
- The sidewalks were so icy, I just slithered along. At Kelvingrove the space between parking lot and building was a large sheet of ice. I grabbed the arm of a tall young man, late teens, early 20s, to get to the door. The taxi driver en route sang "I belong to Glasgow," and then found a youtube version and handed his phone to me. I listened politely, but I would have preferred his rendition.
- The west side like Bath: Georgian tenements, closes and crescents, but not made of golden Bath sandstone. The buildings are more grey, with some deep red sandstone mixed in.
- It's my last day: I'm fine with not having explored a lot. Read, wrote, spent 3 days out and about, attended 2 concerts. That's enough. What I saved on meals and entry fees I spent on taxi fares.
- Hectical: a good word coined by Sondre, the bass player from The Secret North, he of the "cabbage" in the woods of Norway. I wonder if he lives near my housesit. Interesting how I meet but don't connect, and I don't really care.
- I want to have a desire. I don't really want to go out every day and explore. I find it exhausting, especially by myself.
- Most of the cabbies are in their late 50s, my age, but they look so old. Am I just not accepting my age? or does the working life age one more than the contemplative life?
- I feel like I should have spent more time checking out Mackintosh interiors for L and the club scene for V. But I mainly looked at art, architecture, the way the city is put together, its history. So many people were affected by the World Wars, but that's the case all over Europe. Entire villages lost the next generation of young men, everyone carried gas masks, people built bomb shelters. It was more prevalent than the "duck and cover" of the Cold War.
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