Our last 6 months in Glasgow

So, how odd that I'm writing this having made shepherd's pie last night too! Over a year since my first, I'm now a pro, at my, what, third maybe!? Anyway, I really want to remember our experiences here so I thought I'd restart my blog.

We are moving home! For so many reasons, most importantly my MIL is very ill with a progressive disease and we really miss our family.

Today I cried watching stupid Border Security, imagining walking into Sydney airport, being home! It had never really occured to me what this might be like.

"It was one of these mysterious fairy calls from out of the void that suddenly reached Mole in the darkness, making him tingle through and through with its very familiar appeal, even while as yet he could not clearly remember what it was...Home! That was what they meant, those caressing appeals, those soft touches wafted through the air, those invisible little hands pulling and tugging, all one way!" The Wind in the Willows.

I often think of little Mole yearning for his home when I feel homesick. It's a sensation difficult to describe (not if you're Kenneth Grahame obviously) but it really is almost painful at times. Like the pit of stomach drops and tears prick my eyes if I suddenly see a picture of Syndey Harbour. The majesty of the Opera House, gleaming, gleaming against the crystal laughing waves. OK, hyperbole maybe, but it's so true. It gave me a rush to lay eyes on it even when I lived in the city, but now oh it's like a magical land to me, the Emerald Palace, Oz truly.

Of course I don't imagine my halcyon view of Sydney is entirely accurate, there will be problems and vexations wherever you live. I've never been one to believe in running from problems, they always find you and then you're just far away from those who might have helped.

OK, so after a brief moment in my homesickness, on to the topic. Glasgow.

This city is not kind to strangers, with its harsh, cold reputation. The Glasgow kiss (a headbutt). The Glasgow smile (slitting someone's mouth ala the Joker). Dirty, poor, freezing, bitter. And that's just the people! The indecipherable language is a real barrier to visitors too, I cried after talking to Bruce's new boss on the phone the night before we left Sydney. I couldn't make out a word. Was this to be my life? Left for dead in a frozen gutter with a deep fried haggis in one hand?

Luckily Glasgow is so much more than any of this. It is a city that rewards your decision to give it a chance like a cat who stops trying to bite and instead rolls over exposing a warm soft underbelly.

So I'm going to blog on things that have surprised me about Glasgow. Things you probably didn't know. Bruce and I visited Glasgow briefly in our camper-van-around-the-UK trip many years before we imagined having kids, let alone living here. We rated every city in Europe we visited. Glasgow came last. I said I never wanted to return, as far as I was concerned, the city centre's winding one way system criss-crossing hills interspersed with suspicious looking hoodlums was more than enough to turn me off for life. But living here is different (THANK GOODNESS!!) and that's what I'd like to share.