I’ve had to take a couple of days rest as I’m suffering from an ailment which afflicts many a Scottish walker – sair feet. I’ve also got aching shins and wonky hips and by the end of last week was feeling fair trammeled. On Friday, I had an appointment at Glasgow’s Royal Infirmary and I decided to walk. All the way. On tarmac. I know, it’s my own fault that I’ve got gammy legs as I clocked up a total of over 30 miles last week, which was perhaps a bit ambitious at this stage of my recovery. I was a bit downbeat at being so knackered, but rallied when I remembered that four months ago I could barely make it in a taxi to the hospital. It’s progress.
The walk from my home in the west end to The Royal in the east of the city, is as interesting as it is diverse. It starts at the Botanic Gardens, down to the River Kelvin, through Kelvingrove Park, down to The Clyde, walking along the city’s iconic river to the scene of the terrible Clutha helicopter tragedy, past the Tron and up the High Street, ending near Cathedral Square and the imposing and rather spooky Necropolis.
I had a bit of time to pop into Glasgow’s Cathedral, a medieval place of worship which is also known as St Mungo’s Cathedral, after the 6th Century missionary who became Glasgow’s Saint and whose tomb lies in the crypts. He was a cult figure in the Scottish Church who, according to enthusiastic biographers, performed four miracles in his lifetime which are featured in Glasgow’s coat of arms. These included reincarnation of a bird and saving Queen Languoreth from execution by her jealous husband by finding her ring inside a fish. Some guy, that Mungo.