Friday 13 October 

We left the house on foot (and in waterproof trousers) in the pouring rain, to catch the 09.06, whose restricted speed meant a late arrival at Waterloo, eating into what had appeared to be generous margins to reach Euston. We were safely seated on a full train only 8 minutes before departure. I finished re-reading Salley Walters’ Where three roads meet by the time we reached Lancashire, while David busied himself with Piemonte planning on the excellent train wifi. Radio 3 provided background to Lucy Worsley’s Bio of Jane Austen… so far, so good.

Glasgow station is huge, and the city is also served by several suburban lines and secondary stations, as well as the subway. Erica (David’s sister), Steve, Mikaela and Sarah met us under the clock, and we caught up in a café nearby. Steve is recently returned from New Zealand, and Sarah had flown into Edinburgh from Atlanta the day before.  Catherine and Heather were married this morning, and the immediate family had just enjoyed a Japanese lunch together, before tomorrow’s party. 

After a catch-up coffee we left the family and trundled our small cases along Argyle Street until we reached Tron Street and the Merchant City area, and turned up Albion Street to check in to room 408 of the recently refurbished Frasier apartments, with its view of an empty multi storey carpark. 

After a brief rest we headed to Celentano’s, the restaurant of the hotel on Cathedral Square.

A noisy but very efficiently arranged interior, on three levels, with a very unusual wine list (natural wines are seriously trendy – as I was told again later by Sally, one of the party guests) and a very warm and expansive waitress who is teetering on the brink of attempting WSET level 3. The food was also unusual: small portions, unusual ingredients with an intriguing pud already raved about by Grace Dent.  

Saturday 14 October

David’s researches had turned up the Wilson Street Pantry, a very superior breakfast destination just round the corner from our apartment. Already full before 10.00 we were squeezed in and enjoyed a superb eggs on sourdough with field mushrooms, masses of avocado, and in D’s case, Black Pudding. So far the meals have been outstanding. 

Today is my sister’s birthday – and we exchanged photos from our respective travels as she crossed the English Channel and we travelled to the suburb King’s Park to see Catherine and Heather in their relatively new home. They are committed crafters, potters, (with their own wheel and kiln in a spare room) gardeners and decorators, and the house and garden are a joy to them both, not to mention the two sibling – and to the casual viewer – identical cats.

Back to Glasgow Central, and this time a bus to the University of Glasgow’s historic centre, and the Hunterian Art Gallery to see the Macintosh House in bright sunshine. After a tustle with the storage lockers (instructions on the inside? I ask you!) we made our way round this reconstruction of the house that had been knocked down in the sixties to make way for the University’s expansion. 

We all owe a huge debt to the Professor of Fine Art, Andrew McClaren Young, who negotiated to rescue and mothball all of its interior furnishings, and pressed for a replica building to be constructed to house it all, in order to convey and preserve the visionary ideas and work of this married couple, Charles Rennie Macintosh (1868 – 1928) and Margaret MacDonald (1864 – 1933), as comprehensively as possible.

I was entranced; but the savvy guide gently pointed out that their house served as much as a showroom as a home, and life was not as rosy as the decor implied. 

Margaret MacDonald was herself a very gifted artist, whose designs and metal-working are very accomplished. As a couple they must have been extraordinarily striking for their innovation and art.

She was born in 1864, and the painting shown above is a rare example of her oil painting, executed when they were staying in Walberswick in Suffolk between 1914 and 1915. The subject is taken from Psalm 65: “Thou crownest the year with thy goodness…and the little hills shall rejoice.”

The Macintoshes moved to England in search of greater acclaim and business just as the 1914 – 18 war engulfed the world. By the 20s the romance of the arts and crafts movement had been overtaken by the realism of Art Nouveau and their moment passed.

The management of these relics by the gallery attendants was very assiduous, though one delightful young woman was working her way through great literary tomes ( and has postponed watching Woolf Hall until she has finished all Mantel’s novels) in between marshalling visitors. 

On the bus back we worked out the payment system (tap out bank cards as well as in!) and headed to the apartment to change for The Party ( with two cakes – one vegan – chocolate of course, for which Erica and Steve had spent a challenging afternoon collecting them). Arta is underground in a building close by, and that evening housed a hen party, a wedding party and one other large social gathering.

The first hour was quiet enough to hear fellow guests, and after helping Erica briefly with her hair, we enjoyed talking to Ravi and Abby, a school friend of Catherine’s) before the vegetarian food was served. We sat with a group of Edinburgh alumni, and Erica joined us for long enough to explain some of the complexities of these examples of contemporary coupledom and gender diversity. 

Catherine and Heather, have spent the afternoon having their make-up done, did look blissfully happy as they cut their cakes. Soon after that, the sound level of the indeterminate music became impossibly loud for conversation, so we said our farewells and headed for an early night. 

Sunday 15 October 

We planned to catch the 10.34, using our off peak open returns without reserved seats, with just enough time to eat breakfast once more in the local Pantry, buy a takeaway salad and sandwich from them, and join the queue early at Glasgow Central for coaches C, G and U (unreserved) at platform 1.

Just as well we did! We learned the 09.34 and 11.34 were both cancelled, so the train was very busy. 

We left on time, ensconced at a table with a civilised mother and son, unseated from the 09.34.

Around Carlisle life got considerably more challenging for an already slightly harassed conductor when news of Euston’s complete signal failure and consequent shut-down reached passengers. 

As we left Penrith (whose attraction had faded when my researches revealed that the A592 along Ullswater to Glenridding, Kirkstone and Ambleside was closed during our excursion) we revisited our idea of extending our break to take in the Lakes, and hastily packed up our luggage and ‘alighted’ in bright sunshine at Oxenholme. Hilarious! 

We stepped straight onto a Windermere train, and in no time we were on the 599 bus to Grasmere, where we ate our packed lunch on St Oswald’s church bench close by Wordsworth’s grave. And it was only two o’clock! A pint of the locally brewed bitter in the pub next door helped the iphone hotel research which suggested Bowness was the best resourced settlement. In no time we had a room booked in the newly renovated Ro hotel (formerly the Hydro) and several ideas for supper. 

The weather was remarkably kind for both the days. Buses as well as tourists were out in force despite being Sunday, and after another bus ride (open top with glorious views) we found ourselves in a very pleasant first floor room in an old part of the building with a view of the lake from its own bay window. It was a wonderful alternative to the tedium and confusion at Euston, which we gather eventually abated in the late afternoon. 

We walked south along the Lakeside path in the gathering dusk as far as the car ferry, then heading back on the cycle path by the cemetery to supper in Hyltons restaurant proud of its grills and staffed by a mixture of nationalities; we warmed especially to the helpful spaniard. The food was excellent; both beginning with vegetables of some sort before grilled fish and prawns. 

Monday 16 October

It’s quite a challenge to find ways to engage with the bucolic landscape without ruining the very towny shoes we were wearing! After a typical hotel english breakfast (the hotel is short staffed, as is every hospitality business) we planned the day.

Holehird Gardens, along the Patterdale Road, was our first destination, using the faithful (and very regular and prompt) 599 to Troutbeck Bridge, alighting at the Sun Inn, and walked north along a remarkably straight footpath through fields of grazing sheep and a break in the stone wall to the road, whose footpath led back to the Gardens entrance.

The sun shone on the beautifully maintained beds, and the fells (High Ground) beyond. We had a delightful hour or so in the sun with magnificent views, though the autumn colours were only just beginning to turn. So many sheep! 

We returned via the road past Windermere School (boasting water-sports and 24 different nationalities) to the bus stop, and travelled to Windermere station, walking the last mile or so down Lakeside Road, stopping in an independent café bar for homemade soup, hummus, chips (in my case).

A spot of shopping in Bowness produced a stylish new zip up cardigan for David, en route for the circular boat ride on the rather large newly refurbished electric and diesel Swift.

The light was fading, the water still and the boat nearly empty; we had a delightfully undemanding and calming hour. Back to the Ro for a rest, a shower and to change for dinner at Porto, where we consumed pigeon breast; scallops, mushroom risotto and lamb chump chop; and a bottle of Portuguese red, Duas Quintas, Ramos Pinto, served by helpful and competent staff. It used to be known as Porthole.. (Sandlings is the restaurant with the serious reputation but it’s only open Wednesday to Saturdays!)

Tuesday 17 October

The good news: the 09.55 from Windermere is scheduled to connect at Lancaster with the 10.39 Avanti train heading to Euston; the bad news is that there are only six minutes between both scheduled arrivals. And despite the promptest and politest taxi driver on earth conveying us to the station, our the actual train, ultimately destined for Manchester airport, was announced as already 5 minutes late.

Several groups of travellers had tense journeys through Staveley, Burnside, Kendal and Oxenholme as the train continued to lose more vital minutes. We all tumbled from Platform 5 in Lancaster onto Platform 4 just as the Euston train arrived, also late enough for us to scramble on.

We reached Euston by 13.30 from whence we travelled to Charing Cross for David to attend an Austrian tasting, and for me to explore the new layout of the National Portrait Gallery (and its excellent cloakroom facilities) before reconnecting at Waterloo to catch the 16.50 to Andover. Below is a fabulous portrait of Zadie Smith, called Sadie (her original name) by Toyin Ojih Odutola, created in 2018 – 2019.

Home by 18.30; just in time for choir for me, and for David, the England v Italy qualifying leg of the Euros!