Hidden Lane Tearoom

Described by professional reviewers as providing one of Scotland's "definitive" tearoom experiences, the Hidden Lane Tearoom in Glasgow is a cozy and eclectic place offering tasty food, freshly baked desserts and, of course, a wide array of teas. It serves proper afternoon tea with all the requisite scones and sandwiches, but not in a formal or stuffy way. No starched collar required. Rather, it's relaxed and informal. A sign even indicates B.Y.O.B.

A tearoom that encourages you to bring your own beer  =  my kind of tearoom.

I'm not a foodie, and this isn't a foodie blog. I'm not even a tea aficionado. Kate, however, loves tea and coffee and wants to explore coffee shops and tearooms around Glasgow. So earlier this week I enticed Kate away from work and we went in search of the Hidden Lane Tearoom for a bite of late lunch and a pot of tea. (We don't aim for afternoon tea because Jack naps for two or three hours starting around 1:00 or 2:00 pm.)

Finding the Hidden Lane Tearoom isn't difficult, so long as you know where to look: down an alleyway off Argyle Street, one of the busy commercial streets in Glasgow's west end.

The alley off Argyle Street is to the left of the "G.G. Brothers" liquor store.

A chalk sign points the way.

The alley emerges onto a cobbled lane lined with indie businesses such as art galleries, boutiques, a used record store, and graphic designers.

You emerge onto the cobbled hidden lane. The Hidden Lane Tearoom is at the back left corner.

Tucked into the far corner of the lane is the Hidden Lane Tearoom, quaint and bright on a gritty urban street.

The expanse of south(ish)-facing windows allows plenty of light into the tearoom.

Inside the tearoom it's snug. The small space and the abundant decorations might feel a little cramped, but there's just enough open floor space to avoid claustrophobic worries. The wall of windows helps, too.

The view just inside the door of the tearoom.

The ground level has front and back rooms for seating; the latter is more of an event room and sometimes closed off. A mezzanine level above lies open to the front room below. Pastel walls are covered in illustrations and photos. As one recent travel article puts it, the tearoom's decorations are on the "just-right-side-of-twee," meaning sweet but not sickeningly so.

Mezzanine level.

The view from the mezzanine down to the front room.

Vintage and mismatched tea sets decorate the shelves and are used for table service. While some pieces come from auctions and secondhand stores, others have been donated by loyal customers. Tea choices abound, of course -- from Earl Grey to chai to iced teas to nonalcoholic "tea cocktails" -- and the brews are served loose-leaf in teapots, with a strainer. The menu generally offers soups and sandwiches, with daily specials, as well as vegetarian and vegan options. The owner has a passion for baked goods, which figure prominently in the food choices. If you go for a full afternoon tea, you'll get a tower of finger sandwiches, scones, and cakes. Payment is cash only, no credit cards accepted.

Afternoon, or "high," tea platter. (Photo courtesy of the Facebook page for the Hidden Lane Tearoom.)

Our service was friendly and relaxed. Given the small staff and little kitchen, your food likely won't come quickly. The point of a tearoom, however, is leisure and conversation. You shouldn't want your food to come too fast.

I don't know that it's hidden, but the tearoom is definitely tucked away. That's part of its cache. Away from the bustle of Argyle Street, patrons can unwind. Idle. Savor a hot cuppa and nibble scones. I'm not a veteran of many tearooms, but this quaint yet modern version appeals to me.

Departing the hidden lane.

We'll be back, I'm sure.

Sagrada Família — Nativity Facade

Nativity Facade of the Sagrada Família.

It's one of the greatest buildings of modern times.

It's the greatest cathedral {Ed.'s note: yes, we know it's technically a basilica} built in the last several hundred years. Frankly, it's one of the greatest cathedrals ever built.

Even if it's not to your taste — it's fantastically unique and idiosyncratic, to be sure — the sheer audacity, complexity, scale, and craftsmanship demand awe and appreciation.

It won't be completed until 2026, at the earliest.

Construction began in 1882.

Consider just the scale of the project. Currently it has eight towers, four for the Nativity Facade and four for the Passion Facade. Each tower rises 330 feet. There will be four more such towers made for the newly begun primary entrance, the Glory Facade. Besides those twelve towers, four even taller towers dedicated to the Evangelists will rise from the middle of the building. A tower dedicated to the Virgin Mary will rise higher still, to 400 feet. At the center of the cathedral, an eighteenth tower dedicated to Jesus will top out at 560 feet.

The cathedral will be the tallest church in the world. It might have been even taller but its architect, the renowned Antoni Gaudí, declared it should not be taller than Barcelona's tallest hill, Montjuïc, because he believed his creation should not surpass God's.

Inside, the cathedral is just as massive in scale. The central nave, 300 feet long, rises to a height of 150 feet, almost exactly the same height as the tallest church nave ever completed, St. Peter's in Rome. The vault in the center, where the transept crosses the nave, reaches 200 feet. In the apse, a portal ascends to 250 feet.

I'll show more of the interior in a future post. Here's a tease:

Looking across the transept from west to east.

But let's start on the outside. Construction on the Basílica i Temple Expiatori de la Sagrada Família (i.e., the Basilica and Expiatory Church of the Holy Family) began in 1882 and completed a small crypt in 1883. Then the original architect resigned.

At that point, the project was taken over and transformed by the devout Antoni Gaudí. He knew he would not live to see it completed; as he wryly remarked, "My client [i.e., God] is not in a hurry." Though he designed and built remarkable projects throughout Barcelona (see, e.g., here, here, and here), the Sagrada Família was his life's work.

In preparation for the project, Gaudí studied numerous great cathedrals around Europe. His design synthesized a Gothic style with his own blend of natural forms and Modernisme aesthetic. As typical with Gaudí, the design incorporates numerous geometric shapes, such as parabolas, hyperbolas, helicoids, and ellipses.

A double twisted column, ellipsoid knot, hyperboloid vaults.

Started in 1894, the cathedral's Nativity Facade is the only part of his masterwork that Gaudí lived to see (somewhat) completed. He died in 1926, and the eastern facade was finished in 1930.

The facade in 1926.

The Nativity Facade is a visual feast, both from afar and near. You can't imbibe it all in one sitting; it requires multiple viewings, from multiple distances. Since there's a man-made lake directly in front of the facade, the designed approach is at an oblique to the three arched doors.

Approaching the Nativity Facade in the morning sun.

The approach directs you to view the archivolt of the central portal, the Portal of Charity.

From a distance, the Nativity Facade looks like its stone once melted, curling and dripping but then re-solidifying. Getting closer, you can see the immense profusion of carvings, and then closer still you admire the exquisite craftsmanship and stonemasonry.

Even when you get close, it can still somewhat resemble dripping stone.

Like both the Passion Facade and the yet-to-be-completed Glory Facade, the Nativity Facade has three portals for entry into the cathedral. Each portal is named for a theological virtue. On the left is the Portal of Hope, centered on Joseph; in the middle is the Portal of Charity, centered on Jesus; and on the right is the Portal of Faith, centered on Mary. So here's a place you can, appropriately, shout "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!" {Ed.'s note: preferably in a thick Irish accent}, and no one can call you blasphemous or accuse you of taking the Lord's name in vain.

I can't possibly describe all or even most of the myriad carvings on the facade. But I will try to show some of the statuary that caught my eye, starting with the Portal of Faith:

Joseph and Mary (far left and right) present baby Jesus at the Temple.

Mary, the new Eve, can step upon the serpent because evil has no power over her.

I found the left portal, the Portal of Hope, to be the most visually striking. In particular, the carving of the Roman soldier slaying infants was an unflinching portrait:

At top, Mary and Joseph get married; at bottom left, Mary, Joseph, and baby Jesus flee to Egypt; at bottom right, a Roman legionnaire slaughters children on orders of King Herod; and in the middle, young Jesus sits on Joseph's knee.

Joseph and Mary, with baby Jesus, flee to Egypt, led by an angel.

With a slain infant at his feet, the Roman legionnaire prepares to slaughter another while the child's mother pleads for mercy.

These carvings aren't the typical generic-visaged saints, or the somewhat humorous gargoyles, that you find at most cathedrals. The statuary at the Sagrada Família is personal. Individual. Each statue or setting shows a specific scene. Those scenes collectively provide a narrative within the portal, while the portals combine to illustrate a larger story. The overall facade not only demonstrates the theme but also provides a rich tapestry of symbology.

Viewed in this light, the Nativity Facade doesn't look like it's melting (which is how it's commonly described), but instead as though the facade is sprouting new growth. The stone isn't melting, it's germinating. If you look closely at many of the pictures in this post, you can see a wealth of flowers and plants covering the facade. Given the facade's theme of birth — physical, spiritual, theological — budding stonework makes much more sense than melting.

The central image of the facade.

With that understanding in mind, let's examine the central portal, depicting Jesus's birth in the manger. This Portal of Charity (i.e., Christian love) centers on Mary and Joseph with newborn Jesus in the manger. Three wise men look on from the left while shepherds gaze from the right. Angels sing and play instruments from above.

Newborn Jesus observed by an ox and mule.

The mule takes great interest.

Three wise men bear gifts.

The shepherds look on. As do the lamb and the dog.

A heavenly choir sings an angelic hymn, beginning: "Gloria in excelsis Deo . . ." ("Glory to God in the highest . . .") The words are carved into the stone below them. In this picture, you can see the "Gloria" below the leftmost angels.

Bassoonist, violinist, and lutist rocking out in praise. This has got to be the only bassoonist ever carved onto a cathedral, right?

At the very top of the Portal of Charity is the only scene that falls outside of Jesus's early life. It portrays a grown and bearded Jesus crowning Mary as the Queen of Heaven.

The coronation of Mary.

Dividing the three portals are two pillars. One is supported by a turtle, the other by a tortoise. They symbolize the immutable and unchanging nature of the theological themes of hope, charity, and faith.

The turtle at the base of one pillar.

The tortoise supports the other pillar.

Atop the pillars are four trumpeters, two on each side. These angelic trumpeters announce the the arrival of the the Last Judgment. They trumpet in four different directions — land, sea, heavens, and light — representing the all-encompassing nature of the Apocalypse.

Trumpeting to the four corners of Earth.

Rising above the three portals, at the pinnacle of the Nativity Facade, stands a painted stone cypress tree. At its base is a pelican, a symbol of the Eucharist. The long-lived evergreen cypress tree symbolizes Christ's eternal love. Perched above the tree stands a white dove atop a cross. The dove represents the Holy Spirit, the red cross represents Christ's blood, and the gold cross embracing the red cross represents God the Father holding his sacrificed son.

You've gotta strain to see the cypress tree from the base of the facade. Jackson announced: "Christmas tree!"

The cypress tree atop the Nativity Facade. The ladders at the base evoke Jacob's ladder.

The Holy Spirit circles the tree in the form of white doves.

Gaudí originally wanted the entire facade polychromed (i.e., painted) in the same manner as the cypress tree. That would have been amazingly garish. However, a painted facade would have further emphasized life and vitality, as a strong counterpoint to the facade on the opposite side of the cathedral.

Knowing the Nativity Facade would be the most generally pleasant in subject matter and execution, Gaudí cannily directed that construction on this facade be completed before work began on the other two facades. He feared that if construction began with either the Glory Facade or the Passion Facade, the public might recoil and the project would lose support. Currently, the Glory Facade — including depictions of the seven deadly sins, purgatory, and Hell — is under construction and likely won't be unveiled until the cathedral is completed.

Construction on the Passion Facade didn't begin until 1954. Its brutal sculptures were completed in 2005. It's a radically different approach and style from the Nativity Facade. More about the Passion Facade in an upcoming post. (See here.)

Best in 90 years

Team GB may not have the most distinguished Winter Olympics pedigree, but 2014 was a banner year. The U.K. equaled its medal haul of 1924, its best-ever showing in a Winter Olympics.

With one gold, one silver, and two bronzes.

Lizzy Yarnold won gold for the U.K. in skeleton. (Photo courtesy of the BBC.)

As I mentioned in a post a couple of weeks ago, the U.K. tends to win one or two medals per Winter Olympics. Sometimes none. They set an "ambitious" goal for 2014 to win three medals, investing a total of £13.4 million in just a handful of the sports which they thought offered a decent shot at winning a medal. That £13.4 million doubled what the U.K. invested for the 2010 Winter Olympics in Vancouver. Given their results this year, it's anticipated that funding will increase for 2018.

A little oddly, the U.K. seems to excel in the skeleton competition. All six times skeleton has been included as a sport, the U.K. has won a medal. This year, 25 year old Lizzy Yarnold won gold, equaling her British friend/landlord from the 2010 Winter Olympics. So the U.K. is now the two-time defending champion in skeleton, and Yarnold looks to be a favorite heading into 2018.

Team GB also won two medals in curling this year. The men won silver, the women bronze. Since the men went into the competition ranked second in the world, and the women went in ranked third, their medals were precisely what you might have predicted. Both teams are young and on the upswing, so it's possible they'll continue to be strong competitors over the next several Olympics. As a side note, both teams are entirely composed of Scots, so these curling medals are truly wins for Scotland.

The U.K.'s women's curling team, winners of bronze in 2014. (Photo courtesy of the BBC.)

In perhaps the most amazing accomplishment for a Brit, this year Jenny Jones won a bronze in a snow event, the snowboarding slopestyle. All of the U.K.'s previous Winter Olympics medals had been for ice events. (They did win a bronze in slalom in 2002, but it was rescinded for a failed drug test.) Jones thus became the U.K.'s most decorated snow sport athlete ever. As she remarked following her win, "Hopefully, I'll be in a few pub quizzes now."

Jenny Jones stylishly winning bronze in 2014. (Photo courtesy of the BBC.)

After this banner year, with its haul of four medals, the U.K. now has a grand sum total of 26 medals from all the Winter Olympics. Their four medals in 2014 account for just over 15% of their collection.

For comparison's sake, the U.S. won 28 medals just in 2014. It has been deemed a disappointing year for the Americans. While the U.S. was second behind Russia (with 33) in total medals, it was fourth in golds (with 9), behind Russia (13), Norway (11), and Canada (10).

It's all about perspective, folks. Team GB is delighted with its historic showing. Considering it's a land with no mountains {Ed.'s note: shhhh, don't tell that to the Scots, who like to "bag" their tall hills, which they call "Munros" and pretend they're mountains}, the Brits are ecstatic over their accomplishments in 2014.

I'm setting the bar high for Team GB in 2018: six medals. More funding, more interest, and returning medal winners should boost their medal count. Go Team GB!