City dusk

After what seemed like (and probably was) hours in a travel agent this afternoon, we emerged into the dusk of Sauchiehall Street, in Glasgow. When I was young, Sauchiehall Street was quite up-market; not as much so as Buchanan Street, but a far cry from Argyll Street. There were several posh shops (Trérons, Copelands) and tearooms, and occasionally there would be a mannequin parade (with tea) in one of the aforementioned posh shops. I feel it is a sadder place now, especially towards the west end, although this bit, lit by the fairy lights on the little trees of the pedestrian precinct, was quite cheery, with a young man playing soulfully on an electric piano outside one of the shops.

But it's not the same as it was when there were trams .. and horses pulling carts: I remember the terror of crossing the road in front of them when they would snort at me as I was gripped fiercely by my father to prevent me ending up under their feet.