Over for the World’s was the first time in years that I’d spent more than a few hours in Glasgow. The place holds true as a grimy and polluted place. A few things struck me:
Red lights. Glasgow could be a lot less smoggy if it changed the wait-time for cars at red lights. I mean, you sit there for three, even four, minutes at some intersection waiting for the light to change. Most cities you can get ticketed for letting your car idle for more than three minutes. Edinburgh has the standard two minutes. No wonder everyone’s wheezing.
Bike lanes. There are bike lanes everywhere in Glasgow, but no one seems to use them. Maybe it’s because they’re about a foot wide and run along glass-strewn, puke-splashed gutters. Besides, who wants to be stuck at red lights inhaling car exhaust growing old waiting for the thing to change?
Auberge de whoozits. Seems like every other eatery has some ersatz Italian or French name, where coffees cost three pounds and your best Troy reed. Give it up. It ain’t Milan, it’s Glasgow.
Zombies. Dawn of the Dead is just a movie, but Friday and Saturday nights Glasgow city centre is like the real thing. People are so stinking and violently pissed out of their heads it’s hard to tell if they’re of the same species. Everyone seems to be chucking booze down their hatch as if an a-bomb is headed for Buchanan Street.
But, really, it’s a lovely city.