rain-soaked wanderings in glasgow

i just checked and it's a misty drizzle, hope you like that kind of thing. the air feels like someone left a wet blanket on the city and forgot to pick it up. i’m holed up in a tiny café near the old market where the Wi‑Fi flickers like a vintage TV and the barista whispers about a hidden rooftop garden that only shows up when the rain stops. someone told me that the best way to chase the grey is to chase the coffee, so i’m sipping a double shot that tastes like burnt caramel and regret. if you get restless, edinburgh is just a short drive away, and the train stations there have a weird habit of playing old synth tracks on loop. i heard that a local board once posted a flyer about a pop‑up poetry slam in a disused warehouse, but i’m not sure if it ever actually happened. the reviews are mostly drunk advice from strangers who swear the street art alley smells like fresh paint and midnight oil. *cafe and sketchbook* are the only things keeping me sane right now.

check out the nearby boardgames bar on yelp for a cheap bite, and if you’re into weird murals, tripadvisor has a thread about the graffiti tunnel that’s worth a look. the neighbours keep swapping stories about a hidden speakeasy behind the bakery, and i’m half‑convincing myself that maybe i’ll find a secret gig there tonight. anyway, the rain’s not going anywhere, but the city’s weirdly comforting when you stop trying to fight it.

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