February 13, 2012
Travelodge

All our Glasgow friends were out of town, so we took advantage of some cheap prices for a bed and a shower and stumbled into the otherworldliness that is the travelodge at Glasgow airport. Having done many late night stints in travelodges, this particular experience reached new heights of oddness.

Expecting the bar to be deserted when we arrived we found it full of people sending off a relative. Where he was going we never found out but the send off consisted of his mammy repeatedly strangling him and saying “please don’t go”. Other elderly relatives weeped into their wine glasses, sang and became increasingly disorderly. Eventually, at about 2am they all started to leave “for the Ramada Inn bar”.

Once they had left their prime position near the TV was taken by a man who we thought was an engineer as he spent ages adjusting the set. We decided to sit over with him, and watched something really graphically violent on the sci-fi channel. He didn’t interact with us at all despite the fact we surrounded him. He was still there the next morning.

The room next to ours was occupied but the door was open. We spent too long watching a Scottish tv channel which comprised messages to friends and relatives over birds eye view style footage of cliffs. There were four nails on the wall in our room and Chris put our shoes on them.