My friend S. invited me to join him on a quick weekend trip to Glasgow. I’ve never been to Scotland before, so I jumped at the opportunity. The impetus of the trip was to see Melanie C. (more widely known as Sporty Spice of the Spice Girls) perform her first post-COVID lockdown concert at a nightclub venue called The Garage. Even though I’m not a huge fan, I haven’t been to any concerts since moving to Ireland and this would be surely be a fun one.
S. drove into Dublin from Co. Leitrim and picked me up at 5:00am on Saturday morning. The city streets were quiet, and we arrived to the airport in a quick 20 minutes. However the long term parking lot was very full, and we passed by section after section that were closed off until finally reaching “zone Z.” We walked to the nearby shuttle bus that was already mostly full with other travelers, and in a few minutes we were on our way. Airport security line was long but moved along steadily. Masks are still required unless eating or drinking. Liquids, belt, but shoes can stay on. The metal detector beeped as I passed through, requiring me to step aside for a brief wand check before being released. Then my bag was routed off the main conveyor belt for inspection. I thought perhaps my CPAP or phone battery bank might be culprit. I was astounded when the security office pulled out a ziploc bag from one of the side pockets that contained a hand towel wrapped around a pocket knife, kitchen sheers and a box cutter (!). I must have stuffed these last minute items into the bag when packing up boxes at my house in San Francisco. I told the security officer I had no idea that those items had been in the bag, although it wasn’t a big deal — she simply confiscated them. The pocket knife was one I had since childhood, so I was a little sad to give that up, although honestly I hadn’t used it in years. S. was patiently waiting for me, and after reassembling myself, we proceeded through the airport towards our gate, stopping by a grab-and-go cafe for a quick breakfast sausage roll and coffee. The Dublin airport terminal was absolutely packed, and almost every seat in the dining area was taken, but we found a couple of high chairs at a counter space that suited us fine. On our way to the gate, I was pleasantly surprised to see “hydration stations” (i.e., drinking fountains) in the Dublin airport. I swear that the last time I had been in the airport, there were none to be found. We got to our gate with time to spare. We boarded at the rear of the plane, walking out on the tarmac and up a staircase in as is the European way. The plane was fairly full, although the seat next to me was empty and the row of three seats directly ahead of me was entirely free. The basic Ryanair round trip tickets cost €36, although I paid an extra €3.50 so that I could pick my seat in lieu of being randomly assigned to one. S. had checked in before me on Friday, and since I knew his seat number, I picked the aisle seat that was immediately in front of his. The weather is Dublin was foggy and very windy, so takeoff was a bit bumpy then smoothed out.
We landed in Glasgow about an hour later, still early in the morning. From the airport, we called the Ibis Styles hotel where we were staying and thankfully they said our room was available for early check-in. We took a taxi to the hotel, dropped off our stuff, then set out to wander the streets of Glasgow. It was raining off and on, but the weather improved as the day progressed. Our first priority was to find a pharmacy (aka “chemist”). S. had purchased an extra special VIP “meet and greet” ticket for the Melanie C concert, which required that he upload the results of a self-administered antigen COVID test. He had done a PCR test back in Ireland, but he received a notification after arriving to Glasgow from the concert venue saying that he needed to use an antigen test from the UK’s National Health Service (NHS) that featured a QR code that would enable him to upload the “results” to a central reporting website. The “results” were nothing more than a Yes/No question on the website, so clearly the NHS was relying solely on the honour system. Oddly enough, the only pharmacy we could find in central Glasgow was in Central Station. The antigen tests came in a pack of 5 and were provided completely free (unlike in Ireland where they are sold in pharmacies for €2.99 a piece, although you can order tests for free from the Health Service Executive that are sent via mail).
After securing an antigen test kit, we returned to our hotel so that Stephen could self-administer it and upload the results to satisfy the concert venue’s requirements. We had grabbed a snack earlier to temporarily satisfy our appetites, but we were getting hungry for a real meal so our next order of business was to find a place for lunch. S. was dead-set on trying haggis, the national dish of Scotland: “a type of pudding composed of the liver, heart, and lungs of a sheep (or other animal), minced and mixed with beef or mutton suet and oatmeal and seasoned with onion, cayenne pepper, and other spices; the mixture is packed into a sheep’s stomach and boiled.” I had never tried it myself but was not keen on doing so given my squeamish palate. S. did some research online and came across Stravaigh, which billed itself as the “best Scottish restaurant in Glasgow.” They had a 12:30pm reservation available, which suited us perfectly. The restaurant was on the West Side of Glasgow, probably a 30 minute walk from our hotel, so we decided to take a taxi given the rainy weather. The inside of Stravaigh had a hip and contemporary vibe, and it seemed quite popular with the locals, so we were very glad to have found it. S. ordered the haggis and loved it; I had a small taste, which was tasty but that’s all I could stomach. I opted for the burger on the menu, a much less adventurous option but nonetheless very delicious. However, I did go local with the beer and ordered a pilsner style lager from the Maltsmiths brewery in Edinburgh — it was quite good.
There were still a few hours to go before the VIP meet and greet at the concert venue, so we decided to walk to St. George’s Cross station about 10 minutes away and take the Glasgow subway back to the city centre. Fun fact: the Glasgow subway opened in 1896, making it the third-oldest underground metro system in the world after the London Underground and the Budapest Metro. The St. George’s Cross station felt like a step back into the 1970s with its orange motif. The entire scale of the system, from the platform to the subway cars themselves, was much smaller than the London Underground or any other subway I’ve seen before. Not only were there signs to “mind the gap” between the platform and train cars, there was also a warning printed above the train doors to “mind your head” — and indeed, I had to stoop when boarding. We only took the subway two stops to Buchanan Street Station, in the heart of Glasgow’s shopping district. Interspersed among the modern international chain stores were some clichés tourist shops selling tartan kilts, and much to our delight there was even a young bagpiper playing for tips on the street.
We returned again to our hotel a respite and a round of pints before heading out to the concert venue. The Garage is Glasgow is Scotland’s biggest nightclub, open 7 days a week / 365 days a year (although I’m sure it was closed for much of the last two years). It’s located on a Sauchiehall Street — which is apparently has the variable pronunciations of Socky-hall or Suckie-hall — another one of Glasgow’s major shopping streets that featuring restaurants, clubs, art galleries, etc. We noticed lots of local young people were going out on the town for Saturday night; Glasgow definitely has a “party scene” feel to it. Our VIP passes entitled us to attend Melanie C’s sound check, during which she practised a couple of songs in front of a small group of die-hard fans, and then afterwards S. attended the even more exclusive meet and greet experience while I waited outside. The doors didn’t open for another hour and a half, so we again headed back to our hotel to drop off our VIP “swag” bags (containing a signed photo of the artist and a rather tacky branded metal water bottle). One of the surprises on the way back was seeing a Taco Bell — another first that my friend S. insisted he wanted to try later on in the evening before the concert. Glasgow is rather hilly, with some steep grades on par with those of San Francisco between Sauchiehall Street and our hotel, so we got a workout going back and forth. The concert itself was a blast. Melanie C has a huge gay following, and the crowd ranged in age from late 20s to early 40s — basically the Spice Girls demographic. By the end of the evening, our feet were sore from standing for a few hours and the hikes up and down Glasgow’s hills. A long line of much younger patrons stretched out in front of club — their evening out was just beginning. However, we headed back to the hotel one last time and called it a relatively early night, especially since our flight back to Dublin was first thing in the morning.
Until next time….
