Glasgow's a cheap day out when you're old enough to have the Scottish Entitlement Card in your wallet, that's free travel in any bit of central belt dialect. It's chilly place though, where brave buskers and beggars were staying out in the cold now that the heatwave has passed and the gloomy clouds have returned to remind us all where we are in the world. After lunch in the relaxing Spitfire Cafe, soup, sandwiches and cake and a lot of tiny tea pots, (toilet c/w odd additional fittings featured above) we moved onto the Art Gallery where I took this photo of the arse of the iconic Duke of Wellington statue and his faithful horse. The gallery was a strange mixture of the simple and the over sophisticated, too much space, a lot of style but not enough content or explanation. Edinburgh knows a thing or two when it comes to setting up an exhibition if that's not an unfair comparison (but that's how wars start).
As a driver of 40+ years traveling by bus is always a strange experience. The simple fact that you can see things, over fences and hedges, into houses and offices and just observe familiar places and landmarks (along the motorway) from an elevated, new angles and detached position is fun. It makes me wonder how much of Scotland I've ever really seen, most of now seems to be that bit in the middle distance that is caught in the windscreen while everything at the edges just flashes past. I'm no bus junkie though, my trips will be carefully rationed...too many old, moaning wrinklies on board.
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