The Scotsman

Monday morning in Glasgow. It is beginning to rain and the River Clyde is grey and sullen. Just a stone's throw away the city centre is bustling with shoppers and office workers, dodging puddles, pondering purchases, chatting on mobile phones. I am on the waterfront, which is all but deserted. Looking out with me from the sixth-floor balcony of one of Glasgow's swish new waterfront buildings is Professor Andy McMillan, former head of the Mackintosh School of Architecture at Glasgow School of Art, and a Scottish parliament building judge. There is not much to see. The flat overlooks a stretch of down-at-heel parkland. Two cyclists wobble along the narrow cycle track below, a lone jogger puffing after them. A group of teenagers, suspiciously near school age, huddle together for shelter. The river is devoid of activity. No other city ignores its waterfront in the way Glasgow does. London's South Bank has been rejuvenated by the likes of the London Eye ferris wheel and new Saatchi gallery, in Paris the banks of the Seine now have an artificial beach every summer, and even the stag parties in Amsterdam take a wander along the canals. It would be a brave tourist who strolled along the Clyde and emerged unscathed.