West End

I have fallen in love with a neighborhood here in Glasgow. It is called the West End.

West End is the love child of Lincoln Park and Wicker Park after you subtract all the yuppies and hipsters. What's left after: a huge public park and a gorgeous college campus, both surrounded by quirky restaurants, vintage shops, free museums and friendly folk - all in a quiet residential area.

It's posh but not pretentious. Trendy but not unwelcoming. Quirky without trying too hard.

It's also home to Big Licks, an ice cream shop that serves the most fucking delicious ice cream I've ever had in my life. Big Licks is the pièce de résistance that single-handedly elevates the West End out of "Oh, this neighborhood is neat!" status and into "I must go to there every weekend" territory. 

The boy and I have made many a trip already, the most recent of which was for my birthday this past weekend. We strolled around the park, walked through the university campus, dined at the Ubiquitous Chip, watched Grand Budapest Hotel on comfy couches in an indie theatre, and topped off the celebrations with scoops of honeycomb and strawberry ice cream from Big Licks.

Prancing about the University of Glasgow

I was looking forward to eating here for weeks!

Venison haggis

My rice and mushroom cake. Delicious but not very photogenic.

The boy's fish dish. Much better of a presentation.

We enjoyed some oatmeal apple ice cream for ice cream...mmm.

Side note: I may or may not be drooling on my keyboard right now after looking at all those food pictures.

Two weekends before the last one (you can tell how behind I'm getting with these weekend blog posts, gah) we had made another trip out to the West End. This time we strolled along the river through the botanical gardens and eventually into the Kelvingrove art gallery.

Goofing around in the park

I call this the "awkward hotdog"

Insert-flower-name-related-joke-here

I call this "mad cow disease"

We stumbled into a rather arbitrary drum performance by a group that was very diverse in age, ethnic composition, etc. The boy told me that they were a group of recovering alcoholics.
I believed him and was horrified as I gawked at the younger members of the group (who looked 10-12). This went on for a full five minutes before he told me he had been joking...

The Kelvingrove, at last!

Big smiles and weary feet (not pictured)

The architecture inside was just as beautiful as the outside

An interesting choice in lobby decoration

Of course, we capped that visit with some ice cream too. Thinking back, I wish I had taken some pictures at Big Licks. But I was too preoccupied with the task at hand of stuffing my face.

I'll conclude this post by answering the obvious: if the West End is so great, why haven't we moved there?

The easy reason is that it would double the commute that we currently take to work (which is 15 minutes). We're also relatively content with our current corporate apartment.

The less-obvious reason is that I think we both quite enjoy having the West End as a real local treat. It's nice to have it as a destination, something to savor and explore - ideally on peaceful, undisrupted Saturdays and Sundays. I think living there would spoil that magic a bit ;-)