Spotted in Glasgow today - Buchanan Street first. This wonderfully crazy trio were publicising a St Patrick's Day event. The first we knew of it was when we were accosted by a sheep in the doorway of one of the more upmarket shops. It had an interestingly bleating voice, and referred us to St Patrick for further information. St Patrick, we felt, had a look of Rowan Williams about him - perhaps the beleaguered archbishop had found a less demanding way of keeping in touch with his flock? Anyway, he marched around looking suitably benign and dispensing leaflets and bonhomie.
The other photo was taken in Argyle Street, where a group of native Americans was performing.
Just out of shot - I simply couldn't manoeuvre into position without being unsighted - there was a real Glasgow drunk with a grey beard worthy of St Patrick and a cap of the kind Chancellor Schmidt of Germany used to wear. He was just sober enough to stay upright, and he was dancing in a space which he appeared to have created for himself what appeared to be a creditable imitation of the kind of dancing you see in cowboy movies. Arms in the air, he appeared completely oblivious of the crowd and the catcalls.
Only in Glasgow ...
