Tag Archives: Glasgow

All Good Things…

Blog, Scotland, The Vet Who Came In from the Cold, Vet, , , , , , , , , , , , ,

I have Gregg’s bakery to thank, this week, for sending me off on an adventure. I was working Monday, Tuesday and Friday. The job, with its intense neutering programme, and the commute, which includes a mile-long walk each way, is tiring enough, so I was looking forward to a quiet day off. Every morning, as I leave for work, I pass the Gregg’s bakery and I have been hankering after a latte and a warm croissant, so as I returned from taking Triar for his Wednesday morning walk, I decided this was the day.

I was stopped at the door by a sign that said, “No dogs except assistance dogs.” Don’t get me wrong, I accept the right of any food outlet or shop to exclude animals, but it put paid to my breakfast plan. Rather than take Triar back up to the flat, I decided to go and see whether the Square Café Bistro next to the Gilmour Street railway station did croissants instead. The word bistro always conjures up something slightly upmarket and perhaps a bit French, though Wikipedia tells me that a bistro, “in its original Parisian form, is a small restaurant serving moderately priced, simple meals in a modest setting.”

One of the things I am loving about Paisley is that it’s still a very real place. There’s no gentrification, despite the beautiful buildings. Every day, as I walk Triar, I meet different locals. Last night there were teenage girls on the park bench, swearing about effing boys. One evening there was a young woman who kept her hoodie up because “I’m banned from this area,” and often there are alkies sitting there, but they all take the time to tell me that Triar is a lovely dog. So the Square Café Bistro fits in perfectly as it is a fairly classic, Scottish greasy spoon, which does indeed sell, “moderately priced, simple meals in a modest setting.”

Reader, there were no croissants, but I decided to stay and have a square sausage in a roll, or a “roll and sausage” as it would more generally be described locally. I ordered a latte as well. Better still, the man behind the counter asked whether I’d like, “a wee sausage for the doggie as well?” Of course, I said yes. What arrived was a very decent, hearty breakfast with a good enough latte and a wee biscuit. I don’t think Triar could believe his luck though, when his breakfast arrived too.

When I went to pay I found, to my amazement, that my roll and latte were only £5.35. Triar’s sausage was on the house. I asked if I could add a tip on the card, as I had no cash, but the café owner turned it down. “We love our doggies here,” he said.

I was so cheered by this whole encounter, that I decided not to go back to the flat, but instead went to the station, next door, instead. The trains I take to get home to Paisley go to one of three different places; Gourock, Ayr and Wemyss Bay. I decided, without any particular reason, on Wemyss Bay. I assumed there might be a nice beach for Triar and I was aware that the railway station was worth a visit, which seemed enough.

I did rather question my decision while I was waiting for the train. I had no coat or bag, only the summer clothes I had been wearing to take Triar to the park, but the two flights of stairs up to the flat were enough to stop me going back. Triar was perfectly laid back as the trains came and went and when the time came to board, he jumped on willingly and we were committed.

The station at Wemyss bay was indeed rather beautiful with its Edwardian curving, steel and glass design. I wish I had taken a better photo, but here is the one I took.

I was also intrigued to see that there was a wooden, covered walkway down to a ferry terminal as well. CalMac ferries could take me to Rothesay on the Isle of Bute. I could just imagine the Edwardian people in their beautiful clothes, taking the trains then walking right down to the ferry without even having to go outside. It was built nine years before Titanic sailed and fits well with that imagery.

Anyway, I decided we would go and explore Wemyss Bay before deciding whether to travel further, but when I got outside, there was very little of Wemyss Bay to be found. Perhaps, in turning right, we went the wrong way, but after a brisk walk along the shore line, I saw a boat coming in, so I decided to go and find out what was on offer.

To my amazement, a ticket for me and Triar to go to Rothesay was only £8.70. Soon, we were enjoying the view as we left the mainland for the Isle of Bute. I think my parents went on holiday to Rothesay once, when young, and were not impressed. To be fair, it is a very quiet place, where tourism is probably the main business. For me, it was nice to be somewhere where, for much of the time, there was no car noise. It’s quite unusual in any town these days.

There were lovely views across the Firth of Clyde and a sleepy, Scottish town centre. I noticed a couple of hotels or guest houses for sale, including this one, which is a fascinating building, but I imagine getting someone out to fix the rather rusty cast iron crown on its turret might be quite costly.

I took a photo of the lamp posts, which were ornate and had the Rothesay coat of arms, as well as being marked with a date in Roman numerals. I was somewhat amused when I worked out that the date was only 1995. I had fondly assumed they were much older!

As you can see, it was a grey and cloudy day, but beautiful nonetheless with the heavy skies over the island scenery.

We arrived home tired, but happy and on Thursday, I did manage to rest, which was just as well as Friday’s neutering list consisted of two bitch spays (a German Shepherd and a Shih Tsu), two dog castrations, two cat castrations and three cat spays. Luckily, one of the cat spays didn’t arrive, but I didn’t get finished until ten to five, having worked more or less flat out all day. The nursing staff (and everyone, in fact) continue to make me feel welcome and useful and my surgical technique continues to improve. As far as I know, everything went safely home, despite the busy day.

Yesterday evening, I was genuinely exhausted, but Triar begged me for an evening walk and I’m very glad he did. It was a lovely sunny evening and I soon forgot my aching feet as I decided to explore in the direction of the river and the mill buildings I could see in the distance.

The White Cart river with the Town Hall towers and the Abbey in the background
On the right is the Watermill Hotel.

The 17th Century Watermill hotel used to be a flour mill, which made oatmeal and pea flour. As you can see, it backs onto the river. Rooms at the back must be filled with the sound of the waterfall, day and night.

Across the river from the Watermill is the Anchor Mill building, which was built in 1886 and closed in the 1980s, then saved from dereliction and converted into apartments. This was the building that I saw that drew me to walk to this, traditionally more industrial part of Paisley.

Seeing more brick towers, I walked further and came across a gorgeous mural. I should have taken more photos (and may go back) but I particularly loved this six (or seven?) eyed cat!

And this was the final identifiable mill I found: Mile End Mill with its magnificent chimney. As well as office space, it apparently houses a thread museum, which is only open on Saturdays and Wednesdays and, as I don’t have another Wednesday off, and this might be my last weekend on Paisley, I may have to make a decision shortly on whether to walk back there this afternoon!

The last photo I took on my evening walk is at the top of the page. I’ve been hoping to get a cityscape picture and I’m pleased with that one.

I went back to the Square Café Bistro this morning. The bacon roll I chose today didn’t disappoint and neither did Triar’s sausage. This time, I had planned better and had cash for a decent tip in my pocket. And if you’ve made it this far, through this long and winding post, I will say thanks for reading and I hope you have a good week.

Exploration

Blog, Food, Scotland, The Vet Who Came In from the Cold, Travel, Vet, Writing, , , , , , , ,

I’m back in Dumfries today, because I’m going to another “mini writing retreat,” with A Novel Approach, the writing group from Lockerbie. Not that I have done much writing recently, outside of this blog. Life has just been too full-on for me to find the mind space.

It’s been another great week at the PDSA. As well as neutering, I’ve started to do some consultations. I’m not very confident yet, partly because the PDSA provides care that is, by necessity, somewhat more limited than private vets might offer. It’s also more than twenty five years since I was in general practice in the UK. I did emergency work after that, and also worked in a small animal practice in Norway, but all those things were different, so I’m feeling my way back in. Happily, I’m getting plenty of help from all the staff, from the animal care auxiliaries, nurse and vets.

On Saturday, following a recommendation from Martin in the comments last week, Triar and I visited Barshaw Park. My original intention was to go in the afternoon, when the miniature train might have been running, but I wasn’t hungry first thing, and felt at a loose end, so decided to go in the morning, with a view to going back later. As it was a half hour walk, and I wanted to save energy for when I got there, I decided to go on the bus. It was easy enough to find where to get on, but when I told the driver I wanted to go to Barshaw Park, she didn’t know where it was. On the spur of the moment, having seen an all day ticket advertised, I decided to go for that. So Triar and I went on the bus to Barshaw Park.

It was a nice park, though we didn’t explore too much of it. I saw the track for the little railway as well as a boating pond with lots of birds and an adventurous looking play park. There were a lot of dogs though and as Triar tends to get excited when that happens, it was not the most relaxing visit. Still, we enjoyed our walk around the pond and then took the bus back to Paisley centre.

As I was now hungry, we went to Harry’s Fuel Bar, where I decided to get the pancakes again. I continue to be amused by the sign on the wall beside the counter. The pancakes were just as delicious and filling as they were the first time.

On leaving Harry’s Fuel Bar, I noticed the bus stop outside, which said the bus went to Clydebank, so on a whim, given I had bought an all day ticket, I decided that we would go there and see what Clydebank had to offer. With Triar in tow, rather than walking round the town centre, I decided to go find what used to be the docks. Clydebank was once a huge shipbuilding hub. There are few signs of that history left, other than seeing the sturdy bollards along the river bank, where the ships used to tie up, and standing alone, the massive Titan crane. At 150 feet tall, it dominates the landscape. It was open to the public for a while, but the maintenance costs are so high that it was closed in 2018 and now its future is uncertain. For now though, it stands as a reminder of Scotland and the Clyde’s shipbuilding past.

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Triar and I continued our walk along the river bank, then back round into the town, to catch the bus again, back to our temporary home in Paisley.

I had a day off on Wednesday and decided to go and explore Paisley Abbey. It’s now the Church of Scotland’s parish church, but was originally established as a priory, back in 1163. The current church is a mosaic of buildings, created at different times. The oldest part is from the 12th century – a Romanesque door through which visitors now enter. Parts of the building have fallen down, been sacked and burned, rebuilt and restored until as recently as 2012, though most of the rebuild was completed in the 1920s. There is beautiful stained glass, old and new. Perhaps the most striking is a window near the organ, designed by John K Clark, dedicated to James Davidson Drewette Shaw and representing light and music.

Then, for contrast, I visited a much more humble offering: Sma’ Shot Cottages, which were originally a weaver’s cottage from the 18th century and a slightly later house that belonged to the foreman of a nearby mill in the mid-19th century. It’s always a salutary lesson in how fortunate we are now in how we live in the western world. Whole families used to eat and sleep in one small room, cooking over a coal fire that would have had to have been lit, summer and winter, to make food and boil water. The (restored and working) looms were in a room next door. They didn’t have to travel far to go to work!

If, like me, you are wondering what a small shot is, there’s an explanation here:

Anyway, I had better go now. My writing retreat starts at 10, so I’d better get organized. Thank you to all of you who’ve read this far. I hope you have a lovely week.

This was the only photo I took from the mill manager’s house – a beautiful writing set.

Triar and the Bull

Blog, Food, Scotland, The Vet Who Came In from the Cold, Travel, Vet, , , , , , , , , , , ,

This morning, I’m listening to the sobbing of gulls outside the window, but I’m not at the seaside. I’m in the heart of Paisley, which is a few miles west of Glasgow, though there’s no longer really any gap between the two. My friend Lara has kindly lent me a bedroom in her flat there while I’m working in Glasgow.

City life is certainly very different. To get to work in the morning, I take the train into Glasgow Central, then walk twenty minutes or so to Shamrock Street. The work is also very different from what I’ve been doing. It’s odd because I had occasionally (and rather regretfully) thought I would probably never do surgery again as I was unlikely to return to practice, but here I am, doing surgery all day from nine in the morning until five in the evening. It’s very intense. On Thursday, I did four cat castrations, three dog castrations, two cat spays (one midline) and a bitch spay. I’d have done the same yesterday, but two of the cats didn’t turn up, so my day was marginally easier.

There are benefits however. I only worked three days this week: Monday, Thursday and Friday. So Tuesday and Wednesday were all my own. I started both days with a walk with Triar to It’s Noe Coffee, where I bought a latte and drank it on a bench. The second day, the bench was near Paisley Abbey, which is when I took the photo at the top of the page. There are lots of fascinating old buildings scattered around the town centre. It’s obviously been a very rich place in the not too distant past. This enormous building is the town hall, though (criminally) I managed to miss the top of the clock tower out of the picture.

There are oases of green, even in the centre of the town. This little patch of parkland, with its carefully laid out flowerbeds and palm trees is where I take Triar in the early morning before I go out to work.

Triar seems to be universally loved wherever we go, which gives me huge pleasure. Lots of people stop to say hello to him. He has also adjusted incredibly fast to city life, though sometimes he’s so distracted by all the smells and stains that he almost forgets to pee and poo. The little patch of parkland in the photo is covered in pigeons in the early morning (Merlin tells me they’re Rock Doves) and Triar loves to send them flapping into the air with a lunge and bark combo. I think the locals have been trying to protect Queen Victoria from them (or maybe were just getting into the spirit of the World Cup) because she is wearing a traffic cone, though not one of the traditional orange and white design.

There’s another little passageway called Meeting House Lane that intrigues me. It’s quite steep, hemmed in by buildings on one side and a wall and trees on the other, and cobbled all the way down. It’s nice and shady, which is good right now as it’s been very hot.

Anyway, I’m going to be staying here, on and off, for the best part of a month and a half and it feels like the beginning of an adventure. There’s so much mor to explore. I want to go into the cathedral and look round. It’s Noe has some amazing looking feta pastries (as well as spinach, potato, leek and tomato and onion filled versions) so one day, I’ll have to try those.

White Cart Water (a major tributary of the Clyde) runs through the centre of town and there are some bridges and banks to explore, though this photo, on the surface, makes it look more upmarket than it really is nowadays. On closer inspection, the buildings on the left are boarded up and one of the beautiful old houses has trees growing from its windows and graffiti downstairs.


Yesterday evening, after a long day and 13,000 steps, I decided to go and enjoy a beer in one of the local hostelries. The Bull got a good write up for being dog friendly, so we stopped in there on our evening walk. Triar enjoyed greeting the locals and was given a bowl of water and two treats. He repaid the poor barman by spilling his water all over the floor. I think he quite enjoyed the whole experience though.

Anyway, back on Tuesday, mindful of home, I went to IKEA and bought a chest of drawers. Much as Paisley is drawing me in, today I’m going back to Dumfries to restart the clearing of my bedroom and hopefully put the new drawers together, so I suppose I’d better get organized. I’m not working again until Thursday, so I have a few days of much needed rest. I will leave you with a photo of one of the painted Scottie Dog statues that I walked past on the way to work. Like Queen Victoria, he was wearing a cone, though his was at a very jaunty angle.

Thank you for reading and I hope you have a good week.