Some might say that’s it’s kind of weird to be homesick when you’re home, but I’m not, really.
For those who don’t know (probably most of you!) I was born in a town in Scotland called Greenock (20 miles west of Glasgow); I lived there for 17 years. Dad got a job in Ireland with Intel; we moved to Ireland. We lived in a town called Mullingar, about 100 miles from Dublin, for a 9-year span, during which time we spent 14 or 15 months in Oregon, USA, and I spent almost 2 years back in Greenock at college.
We moved back to Scotland three years ago, but we never moved back to Greenock. My big sister moved back to Scotland about two years before we did, and settled in a town called Hamilton (via a town called Motherwell, where she lived for a wee while) with her now-husband.
So that’s where we went. We went to Hamilton, too, to be close to Linda.
Hamilton’s 20 miles south-east-ish of Glasgow. The opposite side of Glasgow than I’m used to!
If you’ve ever been to Scotland, and ever been to Glasgow in particular, you’ll probably have noticed a stonkin’ huge river running through it. The River Clyde was – probably still is, maybe – pretty famous. During World War II, the towns on The Clyde got bombed pretty heavily because there was a huge shipbuilding industry along The Clyde.
We were also famous in Greenock for Tate & Lyle sugar!
But yeah, The River Clyde runs through Glasgow, down the Clyde Valley, and through my hometown of Greenock (although if we want to get technical, I was born in Greenock, but raised for the first few years of my life in the next town up, where my grandparents all live, Port Glasgow; it was also bombed really effing heavily during World War II. Check out Port Glasgow/Greenock/Glasgow Blitz for some heavy photos. We moved to Greenock when I was 5 years old, but. Yeah, I consider Greenock my hometown.) and it’s.
Well, it’s STUNNING.
Mum and Dad were going down today to see my Mum’s sister, Aunty Helen, and my Dad’s parents (we don’t talk to anyone on my Mum’s side except for Aunty Helen. Don’t ask. I won’t tell you.), and since I haven’t been down in a donkey’s age – I’m talking YEARS – I said I’d go!
I’ve been talking to my friend, Alison, from high school for a while now after she contacted me via the comments here, and now we chat back and forth on Facebook, too.
So I sent her a message, got a meetup point. I WAS GOING TO MEET UP WITH SOMEONE FROM HIGH SCHOOL.
THE WORLD AS WE KNOW IT IS ENDING.
I promised her, however, that I wouldn’t post the photos I took of us.
So, instead, you get photos of scenery.
The only problem with going down to Greenock and the Port today is that the sore muscle from Zumba really started hurting while I was out and about. Alison has a tendon problem; I have a muscle problem. Between the two of us, we were like wee old women complaining about our pain.
It was good, though. I don’t think we shut up for a minute.
But I guess that’s what happens when you don’t see someone for 13 years.
I’ll make sure it’s a lot less than 13 years before I go back again.Let's get social: