October 7, 2026

Took the 31 from the depot end of things this morning, meaning to walk the whole stretch from Battlefield down to the river and back up through Tradeston. Fourteen kilometres, I reckoned. My reckoning, as usual, was optimistic.

I got off at the right stop but immediately turned left instead of right and spent a good quarter hour heading purposefully toward Shawlands before the grid stopped making sense. Flipped out the street map, which a woman with a buggy found quietly amusing. I can't blame her.

There's a building on Eglinton Street I always mean to look at properly, and today I finally stopped. Just above a former shopfront — letting agent now, naturally — there's a painted ghost sign, cream letters bleeding through white render. I think it says "Provisions and Groceries." The P is nearly gone, but the tall curved R is still perfect. I stood there long enough that a man leaving the letting agent gave me a measured look. Some letters stay legible longer than the whole word survives.

Found a bakery vent on a close just off Cumberland Street and the smell of warm flour stopped me completely. Went in, bought a square sausage roll, ate it on the pavement. Burned the roof of my mouth, obviously. The sausage had that slight peppery edge the ones from the machine at work never quite manage. Worth the detour and the scorched palate both.

Tradeston was quiet the way a Thursday always is — not empty, just unhurried. Some old bridge timbers sat stacked near the riverside path. Whether they're recent repairs or have been there undisturbed since the last time I came through, I genuinely cannot say.

Got back to the flat by three, feet only mildly aggrieved. Called it ten kilometres. A generous estimate in both directions.

#walking #glasgow #citywalk #southside