Glazga!
The Leaving of Bristol
"Fare thee well to you, my own true love. There were many fare thee wells. I am bound forCaliforniaGlasgow. A place that I know right well."
I have now lived in Glasgow for four months. Through an unexpected stroke of fortune, Tom offered me a room in his flat when I had nowhere else to go. I sorted my life into what would fit in a few bags, leaving behind cherished possessions like my heated air dryer. My last day in Bristol was spent at a swing dancing night called "Ain't Misbehavin'." It felt like a fitting way to end things. I felt at home with the dancing community in Bristol, and it was perhaps my last chance to enjoy it. On my way back from the night, I was chatting to someone who grew up in Edinburgh and was giving me the lowdown on Glasgow. "It's got a good music scene. Watch out for the stabbings though," they said with a half-smile. Having moved out of my place, I returned to my friend's bed sometime after 1 AM. It felt like an emotionally significant moment in my life. I did not sleep; instead, I wandered around the very quiet streets near my alma mater. Taking it all in. Drinking from an endless vase. Never quite satisfied. A coach at 7 AM took me to Scotland that same day.
The City
I had visited Glasgow once before, in the summer of 2023, and took quite a dislike to it. On that grey afternoon, I visited the Cathedral to meditate but hardly explored beyond that. Everything seemed drab. I couldn't have predicted then that a year later, I'd not only return to live here, but see this city so differently.
Glasgow spreads wider than I'd imagined, each area distinct. The West has a classy aesthetic to it. The North feels rougher, with gentrification creeping in at its edges. The South has more of an alternative scene to it. The East feels much like the North, though I've seen little of it myself.
The West End unfolds with its big parks, a botanical garden and a massive art museum. Byres Road hums with life, its colorful shops lining the street. A Vietnamese place makes its own tofu from scratch each day. A library stands, slightly grey and depressing. An independent art shop where I found the nicest pen in the world. Walk ahead to Kelvingrove Park - where I learned to ride a bike, and where traffic-crowned statues watched as a friend and I pondered our lives.
The Southside welcomes you with Pollok Park, where you feel like you've escaped into the countryside. Within lie highland cows and another art collection, the Burrell House. Burrell wanted the collection to be 14 miles from Glasgow's centre, fearing the city's pollution and smog. I wonder how he feels about 3 miles. From Queens Park's hills, you'll find the most magnificent view of Glasgow. Below, bakeries display their goods in windows, drawing eyes from every direction.
When you are in the nice parts of Glasgow, the city is beautiful. It has such nice warm tones to it. You're not far away from green spaces. I am one bus ride away from the start of the West Highland Way!
Glasgow has some quirks up its sleeve too:
The city centre follows a grid like American cities. When I was in Berkeley, streets stretched endlessly ahead - eerily similar here. Yet somehow the grid makes navigation more confusing, not less
The subway here is the 'smallest subway' in the world apparently. Which I thought meant it didn't go very far. But in fact, the carriages are quite short. And yes, it still doesn't go very far. It travels in a circle visiting the popular parts of Glasgow. You could sit on it all day and end up back in the same place.
Buses are free for under 22s!
The parkruns start at 9:30, not 9:00 like elsewhere. They say it's timed for the late Scottish sunrise. I appreciate that extra half hour of sleep.
The Glasweigan experience
I feel like Glasgow has changed me a lot. Maybe it's leaving university, or maybe it's the city itself. My university life buzzed with constant noise. The comedown has brought both peace and discomfort.
Community feels like a very big deal to me now. I want to live somewhere where local connections are taken seriously. Maybe I'm imagining something like a commune. I picture raising children with flatmates nearby. Where apartment blocks host events that bring neighbors together. Where life is about people.
Community was always around me in Bristol. The Multifaith Chaplaincy became my second home. From 11 AM to 3 PM you would very likely find me there on a weekday. I spent hours debating theists but also just being with friends. Writing an essay in the reading room, then walking out to people constantly joking and having fun. The Chaplaincy was community and I miss it. Of course, it was artificial - most of university is. I'm still searching for ways to recreate that feeling in the real world.
In Glasgow, I've had to be properly adult for the first time. Gone are the days of spontaneous hill climbs, afternoon jam sessions, and dawn walks. You meet plenty of people, but friendship takes more effort now. Converting casual connections into real ones feels like pushing against a tide. Though I have been lucky. Some of the nicest people exist here in Glasgow, and I get to call them my friends. I have been lucky to not be lonely.
Yet I'm drawn to keep moving. Settling will come later. For now, diving deep into a city and then seeking the next feels right. A friend once told me, "people find what they're looking for in Bristol, and suddenly twenty years pass." But Glasgow, unexpected as it was, has shaped me. What other cities might teach me? Where to next, I wonder?
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