A garden in Govan

Look at Wee Jackie go. Four-foot-nine, 43 years old, gabbing non-stop, grafting non-stop, her Sunday name – Jacqueline – tattooed on the back of her neck, she shoves that wheelbarrow around the garden like Glasgow’s own Sisyphus. She’s a force of nature in whose life nature has become a positive force.

The Broons

Jings, these actors look familiar. Eleven of them, conga-lining their way across the floor of a theatre  studio in Glasgow, not yet in costume, but imagine them in silhouette; imagine them in pen and ink. The little woman at the back, holding the teddy, is in her mid-fifties and not quite five feet tall. The… Read more »

In Govanhill

When Amir Butt goes to bed at night in the Govanhill flat he shares with his wife and five young children he finds, too often, that he cannot sleep for the smell of urine and excrement rising up from the close. The 45 year old taxi driver moved to this part of south-east Glasgow from… Read more »

“Bon Scott? Ah kent his faither”

“LOOK at this,” says Hynsey, turning to show the AC/DC logo inked into his right bicep. “My first tattoo, it was done on Wednesday. See the pain of getting that done? It was no problem. You know why? Because Bon Scott was there with me.” Hynsey’s pal Joe nods at the wisdom of this. “Bon Scott… Read more »

The 500th Hawick Common Riding

“COME in,” says Ronnie Nichol, opening the door to his home. “A rum and milk for your breakfast?” It isn’t really a question. Not today. Not in Hawick. So Nichol, nodding with satisfaction, busies himself pouring the traditional beverage, first milk then a tot of dark spirit. It is 5.30am on Common Riding Friday –… Read more »