Wandering around the palmhouse of Glasgow Botanics, I imagined myself back in the jungle. I had some of the same feeling as I’d had the last time I’d been in the jungle.
It was humid, moist, dripping and there was the same smell of what I loosely associate in my mind with “greenery”. Tall palms towered above me as if looking for a way out.
Then a sound I hadn’t heard in the jungle….a Glaswegian accent….
“Dad it is dripping in here, why’s that?”
“Son, it’s cos we are in the jungle you know”.
Brought back to life, I continued my wander around.
It wasn’t the jungle of course but it was really nice.
The botanics section on carnivorous plants enthralled me as I imagined the poor insects, one moment buzzing around, the next lured in by sweet foods only to have the lid slam shut on their existence.
A tourist mentioned whether it would be funny to put her finger in one of them. Her friend, wisely, advised her against this.
Some nice sculptures adorn the inside of the Kibble Palace, originally constructed in Loch Long and then moved by barge to the Glasgow Botanics. It opened in 1873 and was once lit by 600 gas lamps whose colour could be changed for effect.
Disraeli and Gladstone had been appointed rectors of Glasgow University inside it.
On this day, locals and tourists mingled admiring the plants, chatting, reading.
It wasn’t the jungle but it was certainly a pleasant way to spend an afternoon.