Chris Stewart

Wearily I dig through two weeks of emails to try and register as a delegate. Put off by the prospect of downloading Aps and covid tests, I had been procrastinating, but finally I am accepted. Feeling more optimistic I pick my lockdown heavy frame of the sofa and take a Sunday walk around the campus and see what is going down.

Glasgow certainly looks photogenic, all windswept and interesting peppered with high vis polis, she could not look more apocalyptic. I wandered around the concrete bollards, blocked roads and bomb proof gates in search of some activity but all was quiet. I turned up the Clyde and thought I would source some action on the Green, but not to be. Perhaps George Square, but all I could find were some guisers looking for a night out. It was only yesterday on Sauchiehall Street at chucking out time I witnessed five firemen in yellow trousers having a fight. Not real fireman just some fancy dress, and unbelievably spider women came to their rescue. It was now becoming hard to figure out who are the authorities, the activists, and the locals. 

Following my meanderings I now feel ready to get beyond this calm before the storm and get stuck in. My first visit is likely to be Tuesday and if I can get past the barriers and onto neutral territory, I will try and write some proper stuff.