TRNSMT 2023

So here it is, the big long post about the main event in Scotland.  Lots of ground to cover here.  Shall we begin?

I hadn't seen Allison in over five years.  By our recollection, it was spring of 2018 when last I was through Toronto and managed to connect with her.  So odd for someone who at one time lived two floors below me in Montreal.  So strange for someone who was my best woman at my wedding.  But the magic of messaging and Zoom have kept us in touch regularly these past years, happily.  So when I finally saw her outside the John Lewis in the Buchanan Galleries in Glasgow, it didn't feel like so much time had passed.  No, instead it felt like two friends heading off into the city to go hang out together.

And for almost ten hours, and with much music to enjoy, that's what we did.

Thanks to Van, I've now been to a couple of music festivals, but this was kind of new to Allison.  Going to a festival in another country was new to me, for sure.  I didn't know much about the TRNSMT festival prior to this - Allison was the one who told me that it is the successor to T in the Park, and some online reading since my return showed me that TRNSMT has not had the best reputation.  Glad I didn't have that to fret over until after the fact!

Unlike Coachella, I was able to buy for me and Allison a one day pass each (and VIP+ at that!),

which was good because we really were there for the Friday headliners, Pulp. 

Oh, we saw more than just that group, and if we'd been there all weekend, we would have made the most of it.

We got ourselves into the VIP entrance quickly,

made our way to merchandise so as to avoid missing out on things (I've had that happen, darn it), and then decided to pop by the second stage, the King Tut Stage, to see the act that was finishing up there, Hot Milk.

We caught the tail end of one song and then their last song of the day, which is probably their big hit, or perhaps "big hit".  I don't think they've actually charted a single.  You know, I liked the energy they had, but it's not music I'm inclined to listen to otherwise.  Still, happy to catch at least a quick listen.

From there we headed back to the VIP enclosure to take a short break and have a drink from the gin truck. 

Yes, a food truck that only served gin drinks, essentially only G&T of various versions.  It was nice to do.  We took those with us over to the main stage and from there caught Paul Heaton.

Back in the 90s, I was a fan for a while The Beautiful South, which, in turn, was founded by former members of The Housemartins.  Paul Heaton was one of the main songwriters and vocalists for The Beautiful South, and he's gone on to solid solo success in the UK.  Or perhaps "solo" - he's done a lot of work with former Beautiful South vocalist Jacqui Abbott.  She, alas, has had health issues, and so for this set he pulled in a local artist, Rianne Downey.  They did a great job of it together, and while I only knew the Beautiful South songs that dotted the set (plus Happy Hour by Housemartins), I enjoyed it through and through.

We stuck around for the next set, and that's when all the very young folks - mostly girls - streamed in.  Niall Horan, formerly of boy band One Direction, was up, and his fanbase was very present.  But you know, I've heard him interviewed on Q with Tom Power on CBC, and he sounds like a really good guy.  I'd heard a few songs before, and they were fine.  He delivered a decent set,

which sounds like damning him with faint praise, but it's more a reflection of not knowing his catalogue well.  I liked it, I have checked out more since the concert, but honestly?  I was more into the Harry set I saw at Coachella last year.  Sorry, Niall!

Allison and I had the great food truck dinner after that, and then decided that instead of catching any of the George Ezra, who we didn't really know at all, we would go over to see Dean Lewis. 

Apparently Catriona, Allison's daughter, really likes him.  I was startled to find when I got back home this past week that I had a song of his in my playlists because I didn't recognize his name or the music at all.  But we stayed for the last few songs of his set on the King Tut Stage, and then headed for the main event.

Ah, Pulp.  I am far from an expert on modern music (or any music), but I had my big Britpop phase back in the 90s.  Blur were my tops, and I liked Oasis (it doesn't have to be either/or), but Pulp were probably the third pillar of that musical time and trend, and I would put them second in my heart behind Blur (and I would move Oasis below some other groups like the Manics and Supergrass and perhaps even Echobelly and Sleeper, all depending on what we want to call Britpop).  I am sure Pulp came to North America multiple times, but I never got a chance to see them.  Now I did.  And, as an early landmark birthday present to Allison, now so did she.

We got deep into the front pit area, though not super deep.  It was fine enough for us, though.  The crowd had shifted to being a bit older.  We later found out that there were upwards of 50,000 in attendance. 

And it seemed we all knew all the words.

The curtains parted, and we heard the opening strains of I Spy.  Jarvis came down the stairs on the stage,

and we were off.  I knew every song, some better than others.  I sang along like everyone else.  There were surprises (Like a Friend and Sunrise) and some songs I wish they had done (Mile End, Joyriders).  They leaned most on the Different Class album, and that makes sense.  It was the big one, but it was also such a critical success.  And everyone had a good time with the whole set, start to finish.

TRNSMT was staged in the Glasgow Green, a park immediately east of downtown and adjacent to residential neighbourhoods.  As such, there was a curfew.  Pulp finished at about 10:51, I think, and we joined the thousands of people streaming out of the venue.  I walked Allison to the Queen Street station so that she could catch the train to the suburbs where she was staying with a cousin, then I headed on back to my hotel.  I genuinely had Pulp songs in my head, and even the next day I found myself singing out a few lines now and then.

It was a short trip - three full, non-travel days in Glasgow and that's it - but so worth it.  Sharing such an awesome concert experience with Allison?  Happy birthday to her, but hooray for both of us getting that.  I had a fantastic time.

an easy Wednesday night

We've got this guy and this girl (pause her to reflect on just how adorable Olive is)(also, Van is pretty darn adorable, too). 

We've got bowls of pasta. 

We've got cocktails (the Naked and Famous) out on the deck. 

We've got Wednesday evening covered just nicely, thank you.

best meal in Scotland?

Given the rise of food truck culture in the past decade or so, it's perhaps not surprising that the best thing I ate in Glasgow was from one such place.  The VIP area of the TRNSMT festival that Allison and I attended on the Friday had a number of establishments offering some interesting things (if only the bar options had been a little more creative), but what drew us both was the Fish and Frites truck.

Yes, the name is kind of too cute, but come on:  haddock and chips!  Haddock is such great fish for frying up, and I can promise that what we had was piping hot, flaky and moist, and in a light and crisp batter.  Plus, the frites were terrific!

Allison and I practically inhaled our meal - we were rather hungry by that point and had been on the go a whole lot (with many more steps to come!)

- and then went off in search of beverage.  Cider for me, beer for her, and a bit of relaxing before the headliners, Pulp, came on.

It's kind of fitting that the best food of the trip was at the event that was such a highlight of my too-short time over there.

Free People Read Freely

Just as the shirt says:  free people read freely.  I usually keep my professional matters out of this blog, but the attacks in this country on intellectual freedom (and elsewhere - the US doesn't have a monopoly on this) are chilling, to say the least (which is why I was wearing this one day all around Glasgow).

It can't just be library workers who are fighting this fight.  It has to be others, too.  Consider supporting the work of the American Library Association and the Freedom to Read Foundation.  Buy and wear a tshirt with pride, and spread the message.  Stand up against book bans and the curtailment of intellectual freedom.

hanging out with Theo

Oh man!  By the time this posts on Wednesday, it will have been a week (plus some hours) since I arrived in Glasgow.  And that means it's six days since I met up with Theo.

I left Instagram late last year.  I had a lot on my plate leading into December, professionally and personally, and it was too much of a time sink for me.  I thought I might deactivate the account for a month or two, but I didn't miss it, and by six months gone from it, I deleted it outright.  But I stayed in touch with some people from Instagram outside of that platform, and Theo was one of those friends.

I met up with Theo at the University of Strathclyde where he is completing a Masters degree.  He showed me a little of the campus,

and we talked a lot about our experiences in higher education.  I know that as a librarian I should be visiting libraries on every vacation or some such thing like that, but having worked in higher education for almost a quarter-century and having now completed three degrees, I find myself more interested in visiting colleges and universities and exploring their cultures and such.  So it was that I appreciated the conversations through the day that returned to his degree work and my own time as a student and as a faculty member.

From there it on to the haggis lunch with a stop for tablet,

which is a Scottish treat Allison used to make for me.  You really need a sweet tooth to like it, I think.  I took Allison to the same shop the next day, and I think she was pleased by that.  Theo, however, is not Scottish, not even British, so he didn't know tablet at all.  I will say that between that and the haggis, he was a very good sport about trying the foods that I wanted him to enjoy with me.

Lunch done, we hopped on the subway. 

The train cars are so wee, or so they seemed, and I chuckled to think that they were like Hobbit trains.  But we made it over to near the University of Glasgow and walked about, visiting the botanical gardens

and walking through Kelvingrove Park, getting damp in the on and off rain, enjoying a stop for ice cream.  And then back downtown for a drink at a gay bar.

Oh, friends, I am not a gay bar person.  At all.  I seldom went in Chicago when I lived in the Boystown neighbourhood, only occasionally for swim team outings.   When I travel, I don't seek them out either.  I am very happy they exist - they provide so much for many who need them - but I'd really rather just go to a nice bar or lounge where I can hear what others are saying.  Yes, I am elderly.  But go we did, to The Gallery, where I made the mistake of ordering a passionfruit martini on tap.  Let that be a lesson to me.  Theo, however, continued to be great company, and he kept that up after one drink and leaving the bar for Las Iguanas where we shared a build-your-own taco platter.

And then the day was done.  We'd hung out for nine enjoyable hours.  Alas, that was our only opportunity on the trip.  So maybe I'll have to head over there again one day, or he'll pop by SoCal, or somewhere else.  A great guy, though, and I'm glad we had the chance to meet and know each other in person.

chicken cacciatore

Tuesday night dinner was a nice standby:  chicken cacciatore.  It's an old favourite of Conrad's.  Years ago in Chicago he asked me to cook it for him, and I didn't have a go-to recipe.  So, I turned to his Joy of Cooking.  I did NOT care for the outcome.  Just not good.  Ah well.  Live and learn.

Someone gave me a copy of a Jamie Oliver cookbook a good while back, and it was there that I found the recipe that I now use.  Pieces of chicken, marinated overnight in red wine with garlic, bay leaf, and rosemary.  Patted dry, dredged in flour, browned in a pan.  Then garlic gently sauteed before adding in the marinade, tomatoes, olives, and anchovies.  All of that added to the chicken in a casserole, and into the oven for a nice long time.

I served it atop some linguine tonight, topped it with some parmesan, and added a bit of broccoli so that we could claim it to be healthy. 

Close enough.  Better still:  plenty of leftovers for days ahead!

And so we enjoyed a nice little dinner outside. 

It's good to be at home!

and while I'm talking about the food in Glasgow...

I don't think I dined especially well in Glasgow, but I didn't dine badly either.  Mornings were at Starbucks for a decaf latte (of course) and a light bite.  I had the haggis I've already mentioned.  The first night there, I was on my own, and unsure of what was nearby.  A search on OpenTable, and I came up with the bar at a hotel restaurant:  iasg bar at the Kimpton Blythswood.

If only I had realized that the short walk to it was all uphill, and not an especially gentle hill!

I didn't want much, I didn't need much.  I'd had an overnight flight to Scotland and then a bus ride to Glasgow and then a walk through an unfamiliar downtown to find my hotel and NO nap, which is the most shocking part, I think.  I wasn't feeling super hungry, and I didn't feel like I had the appetite or the outfit for tackling a nice dining room and multiple courses.  A bar menu suited me fine.

At least one review of the place had said that the cocktails were good but the bar was slow, and that was my experience.  After I said I needed a few minutes to look at the menu and decide, it was considerable time before I caught the attention of the server and was able to order.  And then I waited for my martini, made with an Isle of Bute oyster (yes, oyster) gin. 

And waited.  And finally it came, perhaps 30 seconds before the food was set down in front of me.  I wish I had had a bit more time to sip before eating, but ah well.  The martini was fine.  The salmon and prawn burger was pretty good.  The accompanying fries were piping hot, crisp on the outside and fluffy in the middle, and nicely salted. 

I was satisfied.

Just the same, though, I didn't have the patience to wait for another martini, taking myself back to my own hotel and stopping in the bar for a very sweet cocktail that they called a Clover Club but I might beg to differ.  It was fine enough, I guess.

And by 9:15, it was lights out for me!

haggis

I used to get very amused by all the people who would bandy about the word "haggis" as shorthand for the most disgusting foodstuffs you can imagine people eating.  I'm no longer amused.

I first had haggis on a trip to Edinburgh some seven or eight years ago.  At the time it felt like a dare to myself.  But then I had it, and I wondered why people made it seem like some awful thing.  In terms of texture, it resembles stuffing, or perhaps - because of the oatmeal involved - a pilaf.  In terms of taste, it's savoury, redolent of seasonings and with a great umami flavour.

And look, I know how it is traditionally cooked, inside of a sheep stomach.  But come on:  sausage gets stuffed into intestine, so how is that different.  And it's not as if there is a massive stomach carved open at your plate, so stop being squeamish.  You think the ingredients are gross?  Enjoy your American version of haggis every time you eat a hot dog, then.

Enough with the chiding.  Haggis is tasty, and those who shun it based only on preconceived notions are children.  That settled, let me report out on recent haggis eating.

I had met a friend I knew from Instagram last Thursday to explore the down and grab a bite together.  I'll write more about our Thursday in a separate post, but Theo knew I wanted some Scottish food, so he took me to Mharsanta.  I wish the place were busier because I enjoyed it a great deal.   I had the cullen skink to start with, a creamy soup with smoked fish in it. 

Tasty, and not too big a serving.  And then the haggis.  In fact, we each had a plate of it, served in a traditional style with neeps and tatties (turnips and potatoes).  Yep, just like a remembered it, and very welcome.  I especially like how it sits with the peppery sweetness of the neeps.  It was a generous plate of lunch, and we opted not to have dessert.  Theo had a beer,

I had a cider. 

Bellies full, we wandered out into a damp day to see more of the city.  And I had another haggis experience under my belt.

fig tart

So I made it home last night at, oh, 2:15.  And I got a sub for today.  I still did an online meeting and waded through the emails.  But the jet lag was/is real.

On the other hand, I did manage to pull together a simple little fig tart, so that was good.  

A decent post-vacation day, all things considered.

More from Scotland to come!

Disco 2000

Singing along with the common people, so to speak, at the TRNSMT festival yesterday.  Another quick post with more to come after I am home from this adventure in Scotland.