This morning, buoyed by a mushroom trip that I took last night, and drawn out by that glorious November sunshine, I found myself in the woods of Pollok Country Park listening to leaves fall. Not ten minutes from my humble flat in Cessnock by bike. Amazing! Another ten minutes through the woods and I'm on the platform at Pollokshaws West train station. It's 11.55. The 11.57 to East Kilbride will deposit me at Thorntonhall at 12.10, and from there it's a serene cycle through idyllic country backroads with views down to the city, through the village of Waterfoot, and on and up into the hills behind Newton Mearns, specifically Hazeldean Hill and the back end of Eastwood Golf Course.
A naked pedestrian bridge over the A726, marked on the map by a thin white line running up from Mearns High School, through a few farms to Titwood, and onto the Hazeldean road. It's a great little tractor path, but beware, if it's been raining it can get a bit muddy...
Gradually I begin to understand this spot and its place in the greater landscape. I begin to feel an affinity with it, until I become assimilated and am no longer an intruder.
Ralph Storer, The Joy of Hillwalking
Flagpoles with attitude: Queen's Park...
Gazing across and through the city to the peripheral hills, notably the knobbly outlines of Dumgoyne and Dumfoyne at the north-western end of the Campsie Fells. Any city where you cannot see hills (or some form of countryside or coast) is not a city but a symptom.
The pond at Queen's Park...
Just across the motorway from this little drumlin in Pollokshields, Gower Street.... a view to rival all views! Having hills like this all over the city means having views that project and telegraph the eyes and mind... A hilly city is a far more interesting place than a flat one.
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