Glasgow is a Victorian city that learned to like itself again. In the nineteenth century it was the second city of the British Empire, building ships and locomotives on the Clyde, and the grand sandstone buildings of the Merchant City and the West End are the evidence. In the twentieth century, as the shipyards declined, the city went through hard times, but today it has a thriving music and arts scene, and a reputation for warmth and humour that people from elsewhere often find startling.
The architecture is a pleasure in itself. Charles Rennie Mackintosh's School of Art, on Garnethill, is a masterpiece of the early twentieth century, and the Kelvingrove Art Gallery, with a Spitfire hanging in its hall, is a red sandstone palace. The tenements, with their sandstone closes, define the streets. The subway, nicknamed the Clockwork Orange, is one of the smallest in the world, with a single circle line and little orange trains.
Riding in the city is not difficult, but the grid of one-way streets, bus lanes and tram-free but rail-laden roads takes attention. Rain is common, so watch for slick cobbles and painted lines. The M8 motorway runs through the centre, a dramatic urban trench, and leads east to Edinburgh, which is about seventy-five kilometres away. The long day's ride goes there and back, so you can take the quick road one way and a quieter route through the Lanarkshire or Lothian countryside the other.
Glasgow has nearly six hundred thousand people and plenty of fuel. For a meal, ask locals for a good curry, since the city has a long tradition of South Asian restaurants, or try a proper Scottish breakfast, with square sausage and a tattie scone. Pubs are many, and live music is easy to find. The best light is often in the evening, when the sun breaks through after a wet day and turns the sandstone gold.