Necropolitics

For whatever reason, I was really excited to see the necropolis in Glasgow. Call me morbid, but American cemeteries have nothing on Scottish ones in terms of age, historical significance, size, and general awesomeness. Death is sad, yes, but everyone dies eventually and I think the Scottish approach is a lot healthier. Put the cemetery in the middle of the city, let everyone see it, and don't pretend death doesn't exist. I think it's great. So for whatever reason, when I saw the word "necropolis" on the map, my heart skipped a beat. An entire city of the dead? Come on, you know that's cool.

If there had been thunder and lightning, then the necropolis in Glasgow would have been identical to the one in my head. Although it was sunny, there were still acres upon acres of tombstones, mausoleums, crumbling stone angels and death dates preceding 1000 A.D. It took me a good couple of hours to walk around (once I found it, that is), and when I was finished there was still the cathedral and the religious museum right next door to see. I bought a little Gaelic cross necklace for a pound or two, and then started to wander back towards town. As it was Sunday, and getting close to dusk, every place I tried to go for food or entertainment was closed. I ended up buying snacks at a Tesco Express and seeing "Kingdom of Heaven" at the local theater. My bus didn't leave until late that night, so I ate popcorn and drank soda until it was time to go.