What’s so Special About Glasgow?

Glasgow is many things to many people. It’s dirty, it’s rough, it’s fun, you’re never quite sure what you’re going to get but you’ll have a bloody good time. I only realised as I sat down to write this that I think trying to capture what Glasgow “is like” in words is actually impossible, especially for someone coming for the first time. And sure, there is loads to see and even more to do, but Glasgow’s shining light is by far and away the people who live here. As someone who grew up here and moved away I know the ache of missing it that takes you by surprise, until you can’t take it anymore and utter “aw for fuck sake, I’m away home”, before thinking nothing of an 8 hour drive just for a two-day fix of the city and hearing someone in the street shout “ye awrite, darlin?”.

During one of these trips home I had a few hours that I recount from time to time, because I think it’s the closest I can get to reflecting why people really make Glasgow. It was during the commonwealth games in 2014 and the city was buzzing, and I had left London for a holiday back home. I was walking past the Kelvingrove Art Gallery one night with my mum, having watched the rugby sevens and on our way to The Park Bar, when we spotted a man coming towards us with a traffic cone on his head, carrying a bag and whistling a tune to himself having a great time. As he approached, he stopped dead in his tracks, moved the cone from his head to the ground and said “right, I just have to say… you two are the most beautiful women I have ever seen in my life” (Glaswegians have a propensity for being dramatic in case you can’t tell) before asking what we were up to. We talked for a few minutes, saying we were off for a quick bite and a drink, before he whipped out a bag of chips to offer us some of his own. As we politely declined, he happily said “alright, have a smashing night ladies”, moved the cone back from the ground to his head, and whistled off down Argyle Street. Less than five minutes later still laughing, we walked into a takeaway for some pakora, when as I was counting out my money the shopkeeper told me not to worry about it (I think he thought I was skint when I was just finding the change, I still paid him). Shortly after, we wandered into The Park Bar and sat down with our drinks, when two men came over to us asking very loudly and slowly - “EXCUSE ME, WHERE ARE YOU FROOOM?”. It turns out they assumed we were in town for the CWG and we were not as exotic as they had anticipated - I think our answer, “here”, was a bit disappointing.

Anyway, fast forward a couple of hours and we were on the train home, having acquired two new friends from Tiree and an invite to stay with them anytime, as well as having the Big G in George Square all to ourselves. Well, not quite, we met another couple of pals who spent quite some time showing me how to climb up onto it for a photo op (sorry to Glasgow City Council - the big G is now in Glasgow Green if you want to have a nosy), before a woman on her way home drunkenly told us in no uncertain terms “Right yous have been here for ages away ye go it’s my shot”. Fair enough.

Above: My mum and I with aforementioned woman having told us to “get to fuck”.

I am not sure how to possibly capture the place, but this story is the best I’ve got. Within a matter of hours we had been told we were beautiful by a man with a cone on his head, offered food, offered more free food, invited to stay in Tiree by two people we’d never met and told to GTF by a woman who fancied a lie-down on the city’s monument for the commonwealth games. And the thing is - this was not random and unexpected. This is a normal night in Glasgow.

If you are a people person, this is the place for you. By god it’s not perfect (Glasgow was famously rough, and that hasn’t gone away) but you will be welcomed with open arms (literally, we’re huggers), and people will genuinely love helping you and making sure you have a good time. If you don’t have plans - wander aimlessly from cafe to restaurant to bar and make having no plan your plan. Talk to people (we honestly love it). Go to The Ben Nevis and ask the barman what whisky to try. Go for a dance in The Park Bar and watch as randoms from the pub get up to steal the mic and ‘dae a turn’. You’ll find a seat at a table and someone to share a taxi with. You’ll go to the toilet and come back with 5 new pals. You won’t have a clue what anyone is saying. You will be hugged far more than you want to be hugged. You might be told to “get to fuck” and somehow understand that it’s well-meant.

I have only one word that even comes close to conveying what this city is like. And well, it’s magic.