Cathcart & Linn Park
Our Saturday began with a full breakfast of strong coffee (Starbucks Christmas Blend, courtesy of MaryAnn), orange juice, and scrambled eggs mixed with sausage and vegetables. Fully fortified, and I do mean fully, we grabbed our gear and went to town. There we caught the train to Cathcart, a unique area of Glasgow that houses that wooded cemetery I am so fond of.
Instead of going straight to the cemetery, we consulted the map and chose to walk in the opposite direction down along Old Castle Road towards the Castle 'remains'. Two blocks into our trek we veered off to the left and came upon the Cathcart Old Parish Church (and graveyard). No longer in operation, the place was gated up and thwarted any access. No worries on my part, I just climbed part-way up the wall and clicked a couple photos from that angle. If you look closely, you can see that the clock on the left says half nine and the one on the left stopped at just past 5.
We spent a good twenty minutes poking about and then decided to shove off when we noticed the dark clouds gathering in the sky above. The lane away from the church was lined with the cutest little bungalows and I expressed great interest in living in that sort of a neighborhood, but something tells me it ain't for someone on my budget. Too bad, cos I think it'd be cool to say "meet me for a pint at Smiddy's".
Up the hill a ways we stopped by a gate and were conferring over the map when I asked a passerby directions to the castle ruins. He told us to enter the park and take a right, which we did, but when we got there the next person explained that the ruins were at the exact spot we had just left -- and the remains were really just the stump thing we'd been looking at. Figuring it wasn't worth back-tracking, we kept walking through the park hoping to eventually come out on the other side at the cemetery.
Linn Park, one of the biggest parks in Glasgow, is bordered by a golf course.
Just past that spot we approached another dog walker and confirmed we were heading in the right direction. We kept the flowing water to our right and followed the trail to the bridge where we saw huge trees lining the banks, many of which had been carved for posterity.
There was also a spot with a small (but very full) water fall. The brown water didn't look very pleasant, but changing the settings on my camera sure brought the beauty out.
We crossed the bridge and carefully climbed up the mud slogged path into the cemetery. Here MaryAnn stopped when a particular headstone caught her eye.
We managed to take shelter under a large tree when once again it started raining, after which I caught sight of a rainbow.
Under the rainbow I could see the black stones that I recognized as the Muslim area, and I knew that the wooded area would then be up towards the left. About the time we stopped at these amazing blackened sculptures, the skies opened up and we were near drenched in the downpour. We put away all of our gear, wrapping the bags in the weatherproof garb (MaryAnn calls it a camera condom) and decided to go back to Cathcart and get a cup of something hot.
Except, just as we reached the top of the hill, the rains stopped and blue sky emerged once again.
I was completely surprised when we got inside the wooded area, because it wasn't the same dark place I'd visited twice before. It would appear that in the winter time the leaves which provide the mysterious atmosphere are no longer on the trees but instead carpet the pathways and blanket the stones. Who knew.
I showed her all my favorite spots, and we spent another hour or so climbing amongst the stones.
At half three we caught the train back to City Centre and went to Miso, a great Japanese restaurant I seem to be frequenting, and then grabbed a coffee on our way to Central Station to meet Colin. Unsure of where to go we just kind of zipped along down to Trongate, where I practiced my newly learned tour guide spiel, before going back up to the George Square and Royal Exchange area. On this occasion I did not have my tripod, but still pulled off a pretty good shot of the Gallery of Modern Art (GOMA):
Once AGAIN it began to rain, so we adjourned to nearest coffee shop and spent the rest of the evening just chatting, warming up, and drying out.
Instead of going straight to the cemetery, we consulted the map and chose to walk in the opposite direction down along Old Castle Road towards the Castle 'remains'. Two blocks into our trek we veered off to the left and came upon the Cathcart Old Parish Church (and graveyard). No longer in operation, the place was gated up and thwarted any access. No worries on my part, I just climbed part-way up the wall and clicked a couple photos from that angle. If you look closely, you can see that the clock on the left says half nine and the one on the left stopped at just past 5.
We spent a good twenty minutes poking about and then decided to shove off when we noticed the dark clouds gathering in the sky above. The lane away from the church was lined with the cutest little bungalows and I expressed great interest in living in that sort of a neighborhood, but something tells me it ain't for someone on my budget. Too bad, cos I think it'd be cool to say "meet me for a pint at Smiddy's".Up the hill a ways we stopped by a gate and were conferring over the map when I asked a passerby directions to the castle ruins. He told us to enter the park and take a right, which we did, but when we got there the next person explained that the ruins were at the exact spot we had just left -- and the remains were really just the stump thing we'd been looking at. Figuring it wasn't worth back-tracking, we kept walking through the park hoping to eventually come out on the other side at the cemetery.Linn Park, one of the biggest parks in Glasgow, is bordered by a golf course.
Just past that spot we approached another dog walker and confirmed we were heading in the right direction. We kept the flowing water to our right and followed the trail to the bridge where we saw huge trees lining the banks, many of which had been carved for posterity.There was also a spot with a small (but very full) water fall. The brown water didn't look very pleasant, but changing the settings on my camera sure brought the beauty out.We crossed the bridge and carefully climbed up the mud slogged path into the cemetery. Here MaryAnn stopped when a particular headstone caught her eye.We managed to take shelter under a large tree when once again it started raining, after which I caught sight of a rainbow.Under the rainbow I could see the black stones that I recognized as the Muslim area, and I knew that the wooded area would then be up towards the left. About the time we stopped at these amazing blackened sculptures, the skies opened up and we were near drenched in the downpour. We put away all of our gear, wrapping the bags in the weatherproof garb (MaryAnn calls it a camera condom) and decided to go back to Cathcart and get a cup of something hot.Except, just as we reached the top of the hill, the rains stopped and blue sky emerged once again.I was completely surprised when we got inside the wooded area, because it wasn't the same dark place I'd visited twice before. It would appear that in the winter time the leaves which provide the mysterious atmosphere are no longer on the trees but instead carpet the pathways and blanket the stones. Who knew.I showed her all my favorite spots, and we spent another hour or so climbing amongst the stones.At half three we caught the train back to City Centre and went to Miso, a great Japanese restaurant I seem to be frequenting, and then grabbed a coffee on our way to Central Station to meet Colin. Unsure of where to go we just kind of zipped along down to Trongate, where I practiced my newly learned tour guide spiel, before going back up to the George Square and Royal Exchange area. On this occasion I did not have my tripod, but still pulled off a pretty good shot of the Gallery of Modern Art (GOMA):Once AGAIN it began to rain, so we adjourned to nearest coffee shop and spent the rest of the evening just chatting, warming up, and drying out.
posted by Gertie at 09:30
1 Comments:
Gertie, I got your card, thank you! And no, the concept of shagging the postman, either the 70 year old delivery man or the almost-as-old, but much creepier counter guy gives me the complete willies!
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