15 December Glasgow Bridges and Christmas Curry

Alan, Allan, Davie, Ian, Jimmy, Johnny, Malcolm, Paul, Robert, Ronnie & Rex (part time)

It was said today by one of our founder members, ‘It’s amazing how quickly traditions get established’, and to prove his point he cited a few of ours. But the one that brought on the statement was our traditional visit to Glasgow for our Christmas curry. Today was the appointed day and the appointed meeting place was Ian’s house in Kilmarnock with the intention of car sharing into the city.
Now, Ian’s hospitality is beginning to rival that of our long-standing Irvine member and today he excelled even himself by providing us with glasses of mulled wine and mince pies served in a nice wee silver dish. Though there appeared to be something engraved on the dish, none of us was quite able to make out what it said and no-one had the gumption/stupidity to ask Ian. No doubt we will be told. And told. And told. And..........
The night had seen another keen frost and the morning dawned bitingly cold but with a clear sky that promised a perfect winter day. Yet, as we sat in Ian’s drinking his wine and eating his pies, we watched as the cloud gathered and a fog descended on the town. It would seem that our hopes for the perfect day would be dashed. However, we had booked the restaurant, so Glasgow it would have to be. We thanked Ian for his hospitality and set off with something less than enthusiasm. Our hopes were raised again when we climbed onto the Fenwick Moor and out of the fog into the sun once more. Then they were dashed again for, from the heights above Newton Mearns, we could see a great bank of clag hang in the city, indeed fill the whole valley as far as we could see.
Traditions may well have been established but today we were to break with a small one of ours; instead of our usual canal walk prior to the curry, we would do the Glasgow Bridges Walk (www.clydewaterfrontheritage.com/FileAccess.aspx?id=2155), one that somebody had read about though none of us had actually done. That’s why three cars deposited ten Ooters in the frost covered car park of Glasgow Science Centre instead of our usual place by the Botanic Gardens. (Missing were Peter, Christmas shopping in Prague, and Rex, still recuperating) And the weather? Somehow the clag had burned off in the time it took us to drive from Newton Mearns to the Science Centre and we were left with a calm, frosty, sunny, perfect winter day. Oh how the righteous are blest.
Much to Ronnie’s disappointment, no weather girls came or went as we passed by the BBC studios on our way to the Millennium Bridge, the first of our Glasgow Bridges. The snow of last week lay as ice on the pavements but the sub-zero temperatures of the night overlaid this with a thick, white frost which provided ample traction and the walking was easy. We stopped for a few seconds on the Millennium Bridge to look at the river, a river that flowed perfectly calm in the still air reflecting both banks as though in a mirror. This is where the cameras came out. They were to stay out for the rest of the day for it was a day made for photography. We look forward to seeing the results:-

But we didn’t hang about too long on that bridge for the itchy feet brigade were already making their way off the other end where they turned east on the north bank, east towards Bell’s Bridge. At this particular bridge came a classic Ooters moment. Allan, who still hasn’t quite grasped the concept of a walking group and who had been asked to arrange things for today, had thought of taking the bus to Dalmarnock and walking back. Jimmy and Malcolm even brought their bus passes on his advice. However, Davie, who walks everywhere every day, had different ideas; we should walk the entire distance. Are we not the Ooters? Are we not tough and experienced walkers? Are we so old and doddery that we need buses? Davie’s eloquent speech won the day, helped by the fact that he was already ten yards onto the bridge and was heading for the other side of the river again. We followed Davie. Allan, mumbling quietly to himself, followed us.
The pavements on the south side of the river were white with the frozen snow and frost. It felt like Christmas. The river now reflected the Finnieston Crane lit by the low December sun, then the SECC, the Armadillo.

Cameras clicked constantly as we walked this section to the next bridge, officially known as the Clyde Arc but popularly called the Squinty Bridge. This bridge carries traffic, more traffic than we are used to on our outings and care had to be taken in case one of our auld dodders forgot himself and walked onto the road, It also carried us back to the north side of the river where we were to stay for a while now.

We crossed the IFSD Tradeston footbridge known as the Zigzag Bridge, and back over George V Bridge.
There are two bridges across the Clyde that necessity dictates that we go under rather than over. These are the Kingston Bridge carrying the M8 and the Caledonian Railway Bridge carrying all the lines into Central Station. The walkway took us under both. The second Caledonian Railway Bridge, the one still standing, hung with icicles that caught the sun reflecting from the river.

While another photo opportunity was taken by the artists, the philistines walked on and by the time the artists caught up Johnny was busy dispensing antifreeze of his own concoction – one part Famous Grouse and three parts Balvennie – from a hip flask that none of us knew he had. Despite the ban on public consumption, we all imbibed. See us. See ASBOs. Thanks anyway, J.

The spirit worked its magic, warming from the inside out and putting a spring in the step as we walked on.
Only the pillars of the first Caledonian Railway Bridge remain but these had their own interest. Yet it wasn’t until we were on our next bridge that we noticed. Around the pillars engraved in English and Greek was the legend ‘All greatness stands firm in the storm’. Such was the greatness of this bridge that it had to be replaced. Sic transit Gloria mundi.
The bridge we were on was Glasgow Bridge. ‘I’ve always known this as Jamaica Bridge’, said Jimmy. Ian, a native of the dear green place, agreed. Yet here it was in big bold lettering ‘Glasgow Bridge’. We crossed Glasgow Bridge and turned on to the Georgian fronted Carlton Place with all its law offices. Fifty metres later we were leaving Carlton Place to take the Portland Street suspension bridge to the north bank again.

Quay Gardens, as this section of the north bank is now known, was icy and white with frost. Yet we passed more people on this bit than on any other, all managing the slippery conditions admirably, as we did. A black painted derrick affair stood on the other side of the path from the river and speculation was made as to their purpose. The general consensus was that it once held a lifeboat that could be launched in case of mishap on the river.
At the end of Quay Gardens we climbed a flight of steps and crossed the river again by Victoria Bridge towards the Gorbals. At the Sheriff Court we crossed the road and came to the Glasgow Mosque. The sun was at an angle to shine through the glass dome and make it glow. Another photo opportunity was taken. Some wondered what the light would be like inside the mosque and fancied a visit but others were for pushing on, so, on we went without a visit. The path ahead was blocked as some construction work was carried out so we were diverted through and round the Glasgow Nautical College to find our next bridge, Albert Bridge.
Albert Bridge took us to the corner of Glasgow Green. Now we were to leave the river for a while and take the paths through the Green to the People’s Palace. A superb masonry arch stands at this end of the Green, the McLennan Arch. ‘It used to stand somewhere else’ said Ian but he couldn’t remember where*. It did though provide another photo opportunity.

We walked through the snow covered park past the Collins Fountain and the Nelson Monument to the People's Palace and the Winter Gardens. It was now approaching noon and long past coffee time. We had coffee and scones, or carrot cake, or millionaire shortbread or even bacon roll in the Winter Gardens. He who knows said that the rest of the walk to Dalmarnock was dreich and suggested we make our way back. Feeling that enough was enough for the day, we agreed. So we started the return journey but not before taking time to stoke up our socialist fire with a visit to the People’s Palace Museum.
We kept to the north side of the river for the return journey. A slight thaw had been working as we sat for coffee and the sun had gone now so the cameras were put away and we just walked on, blethering in our usual way. The ice was slippier on Quay Gardens but not too slippy and all made it safely along. Approaching the end of Victoria Bridge a familiar personage was spotted. Rex had come to join us for our Curry. Eleven of us then walked along the north bank of the river to the Millennium Bridge and the Science Centre car park.
This had been a different but very enjoyable walk but our day was not yet finished.

A quick change of clothing was followed by a drive to the Paisley Road and the Ashoka at the Mill for our Christmas Curry. It was a good job we had booked or we would never have got in to the restaurant. The place was empty apart from us and we feel that if we hadn’t booked, the guys behind the counter would have closed up and gone home. However the food and the service were excellent. And the company was pretty good as well. Sometime through the meal Johnny and Robert took off their fleeces to reveal their new T-shirts. Black they were, with some sort of logo on the chest. While most of us read the logo and laughed, Jimmy and Davie couldn’t quite bring themselves to do the same. Crabbit auld buggers.

*Research by the scribe has uncovered this information: The McLennan Arch was originally the centrepiece of the magnificent frontage of Robert and James Adam’s Assembly Rooms on Ingram Street (1792). When the Assembly Rooms were demolished to enable extension of the General Post Office Bailie James McLennan arranged for it to be reconstructed at the end of Monteith Row near Greendyke Street (1894).
It remained there until 1922 when it was moved to another site on the Green opposite Charlotte Street. Foundation problems caused it to tilt with the result that it was moved for a fourth time in 1991 to form a central, classical structure featuring Apollo and the three Graces in the civic space at Saltmarket opposite the Judiciary Building.
The Arch is one of the few extant pieces of Adam architecture in the city.