The reviews we'd heard from others on Glasgow thus far had been mixed at best. It certainly isn't the picturesque wonder that Edinburgh is, and with 4 days to kill
there we took the opportunity to simply relax and do a bit of blogging and homework on what was to come on the trip.
We twice dined at local favourite Driftwood, whose 3 quid (about A$5) Mexican main meals and 1 quid vodkas/fosters stubbies went down a treat. We also finally braved
a meal of Haggis at a pub called The Griffin. Despite the meal being a bit average
(tastes like pie meat) we we will fondly remember the venue as they would play the
national anthem of any foreign customer over the pub stereo, nice one!
At the opposite end of the quality venue spectrum, our hostel was a bit of a bump
in the road. As we checked in and paid our outstanding pounds, we thought we had
been overcharged, only to be told there was a 17% tax they don't include on their
website. Shrugging off that, Elle awoke on the first morning there to find some water dripping through the roof and onto the bed. As the chap on the floor above
proceeded to take a good half hour shower, the dripping became a steady stream
straight through the light fitting as the guy on the front desk panicked further.
Later in the day we were given a different room, and despite their insistence the
leak has never happened before, made it clear we were keeping the new digs.
This coupled with the hostel boss tearing shreads off his staff every time we were
in the common area made it an interesting stay.
Continuing our average luck in Glasgow, much to her financial demise, Elle saw a
Clydesdale Bank ATM swallow her credit card. The subsequent phone call to the USA
to get an emergency card ended up costing $120, and the emergency card hardly
worked anywhere anyway.
Glasgow itself did have some sights worth seeing, although we realised they were
on the other side of town from us. The cathedral was huge and quite spectacular
inside, while some market and shopping areas nearby were also the goods.
On our side of town was the popular Sauchiehall St, home to much of the nightlife
and also many of the unsavoury types, of which Glasgow has plenty.
At Barrys insistence it was to the cinema for Karate Kid for the final night on British soil. A trip to KFC earlier also highlighted the fact they haven't put salt on their
fries in the UK since 2005, what a disgrace!