On Lindsay’s second day in Scotland, we did some good old-fashioned sightseeing around Glasgow.

This may or may not have been a Nasty Friday.

We began with a jaunt through the West End, starting at Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum.

Sreeping Beauty. (I believe she has the corresponding photo of me in my princess gown.)

Foreshadowing our itinerary for the very next day, the Scott Monument in Edinburgh.

Brunch at Tribeca. Those pancakes were obscene(ly good).

And, following an awkwardly timed brunch slot that was too long to wait at the restaurant and too short to do anything in the interim: back to Kelvingrove. I have never noticed before that the banisters are chairs.

Ron Jeremy’s circumcision cast-offs.

I’m about 90% sure this is the シシ神 from Princess Mononoke.

~ Lindsay

Lifesize model of a mobile in the ‘80s;

One subway ride later: Glasgow Cathedral.

Bringing her barbaric Canadian ways to Scotland, Lindsay skinned a highland cow and wore its head as a trophy.

The Necropolis.

I don’t know how I missed this the last time I was here – the author of Wee Willie Winkie!

And, continuing the morbid game John, Kim and I were playing before: John’s almost-exact name on a gravestone. (Stranger still: the grave of the person it belongs to has the exact same name as the Wee Willie Winkie author.)

Lindsay was unfamiliar with the whole concept of holding a buttercup under a person’s chin to see if they like butter. I’m left wondering if it’s another tradition that I didn’t realise was British?

Obligatory Christian rock band album cover.

Next door to the cathedral: Glasgow Royal Infirmary – John’s former place of employ.

John curling Lindsay’s hair correctly – recompense for my hilariously abortive attempt in Shanghai. (I literally gave up halfway through because it was so irredeemably awful.)

Glamazon. Which, in retrospect, was probably a little overkill given that we were going out with some of John’s work colleagues for fish and chips. (Pretentious fish and chips, but fish and chips all the same.)

Violet champagne at Darcy’s. We finished off the evening with cocktails and impromptu French lessons in the toilets, apropos of the educational tapes running on repeat. Je voudrais un sandwich au jambon.

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