It's funny now that I think about it, I really didn't have fond memories of Glasgow (except a time or two with my friends). And I find it odd because going to new places always excites me and it did actually, but it was a different story when I got there and stayed for a week. The weather has always been grey since the day we arrived. The conference organiser had to give out hundreds of raincoats to conference delegates. I got a yellow one, screaming "slow down" to incoming traffic. I didn't figure in a vehicular accident, thankfully. I'm not sure how one can, since the roads are too narrow in the city centre and the bus drivers seemingly polite with their hats and Scottish accents.

Every time I come back to my room, I'd always look outside and check out the cityscape: everyday it's the same gloomy, old Victorian buildings staring back at me and a minute of rain. But I don't know, I keep on saying it looks sad and gloomy yet the bleakness has a certain appeal to me.


I wandered alone one day, decided to skip the early part of the conference and visit the Glasgow Cathedral. I got there so early that it was still closed. The dead in the nearby necropolis kept their silence as I took frame after frame of that morning's stillness. They decided to keep mum about the cathedral's opening time. They must thought that everybody can read the sign, but what if I'm blind.

I wanted to take a picture of myself with the cathedral in the background and see how my face looked like that day, must be extremely bored and a bit pale from not eating blood pudding offered daily at the University cafeteria.


I pray that this year won't be so blah, though I don't know how. Half of the people I was with last year are gone. Maybe I'll just go and visit my friends at the necropolis one last time.