You left me in the last post hurtling west from Glasgow to Paisley and beyond.
A mile east of St Mirren land I loaded the GBG App to see how to get to the Canal Station, a new entry that surprised even the local ticker, only to find it missing, handpumps already withdrawn to celebrate the Guide entry.
Folk from Paisley have long aspired to retire to Port Glasgow, much as Southwold folk dream of a bolthole in Kessingland following my 2017 blog.
One of the big draws for the crafterati like Duncan is the quality of Port Glasgow’s pub stock;
I had to change trains at Port for Greenock and my penultimate tick, or I’d have ended up at Wemyss Bay and confusing locals with my pronunciation.
20 minutes was never going to be enough to capture all of the magic of the Port, and certainly insufficient to pluck up courage to go in the Star.
But how gorgeous is that ?
The Council building at dusk is even better.
By this time I was genuinely considering giving up on the GBg and just doing Port Glasgow bars with a red “T” outside them, like Alan would have done.
But the lights of St Andrews Church, and the siren call of Greenock drew me back to the station just in time for the 16:42.
But I knew one day I’d be back.