The bright lights ...

A trip to Glasgow today for lunch with my cousin and his wife - something we try to do every two or three months, to keep up with travels, news, and a different viewpoint, something we decided to do when the last of the generation of family above us died and we were no longer going to be meeting at funerals. We met at The Ivy - the first time I've been there, and something I'll be happy to do again; I'm happy when the menu and the cooking are of a high enough standard for me simply to enjoy without reservation. 

Because we were meeting in town rather in the West End, and because the weather was sufficiently unruly for the wee ferry to threaten to go off at short notice, we took the car rather than the train - nothing spoils a day more than waiting for the dreaded texted status update telling you you're virtually stranded. As a result, we didn't leave Buchanan Street (blipped above), though to be honest I didn't feel like shopping by the time we'd finished eating and talking. 

I think it was because I wasn't exhausted by shopping that it attracted me so much, this city that I used to call home. I took the photo when we'd just come out of the Apple Store; the lights had just come on and the atmosphere was positive and buzzing, so that part of me wanted to stay, and wander in and out of shops, and have another coffee somewhere - and then hop on a bus or the electric train out to Broomhill or Hyndland, where I lived in my youth,  and be home in half an hour.

In the event, of course, we collected the car from the Buchanan Galleries car park and were home two hours later ...