Commensality avoided
No breakfast, as usual. At that age I was still too self-conscious to present myself in the breakfast room of an hotel and dine in front of other people. Actually, I'd not like doing it even now. I dreaded conversational overtures ("What brings you to Glasgow, then?") from fellow breakfasters, and you can imagine the sort of black pudding, fried bread and baked beans stuff they'd have served up in those days at a B&B in Glasgow. I was also on a tight schedule. I'd just handed in the room keys and was on my way home. Standing on the pavement next to my trouser leg would have been the small, amazingly cheap (about £2, I think), all-leather suitcase I'd bought from Woolworths especially for these Scottish trips. Admittedly its metal frame bent under my weight when, on a subsequent occasion, I tried to use it as a seat in the corridor of a crowded train.
So, just time for a few snaps here at the Buchanan bus station and a final snoop around Anderston Cross before making tracks to Glasgow Central, with a stop-off planned at Preston on the way back to Bristol and my own bed. I'd probably be in time to drop off my haul of colour films at Hodders in Staple Hill, and I could post the black & whites off to John Fozard the next morning. It was Thursday 18th May 1978 and the bus was a 1964 Bristol FS6G in the gorgeous colours of Central SMT. Where else, by this time, could you see the lighter relief colour applied to the window surrounds?
Commensality avoided
No breakfast, as usual. At that age I was still too self-conscious to present myself in the breakfast room of an hotel and dine in front of other people. Actually, I'd not like doing it even now. I dreaded conversational overtures ("What brings you to Glasgow, then?") from fellow breakfasters, and you can imagine the sort of black pudding, fried bread and baked beans stuff they'd have served up in those days at a B&B in Glasgow. I was also on a tight schedule. I'd just handed in the room keys and was on my way home. Standing on the pavement next to my trouser leg would have been the small, amazingly cheap (about £2, I think), all-leather suitcase I'd bought from Woolworths especially for these Scottish trips. Admittedly its metal frame bent under my weight when, on a subsequent occasion, I tried to use it as a seat in the corridor of a crowded train.
So, just time for a few snaps here at the Buchanan bus station and a final snoop around Anderston Cross before making tracks to Glasgow Central, with a stop-off planned at Preston on the way back to Bristol and my own bed. I'd probably be in time to drop off my haul of colour films at Hodders in Staple Hill, and I could post the black & whites off to John Fozard the next morning. It was Thursday 18th May 1978 and the bus was a 1964 Bristol FS6G in the gorgeous colours of Central SMT. Where else, by this time, could you see the lighter relief colour applied to the window surrounds?