My day in Govan was largely spent being barked at by small ferocious
dogs. Had they not been restrained by their owners, they would have sunk
their teeth into my leg. There are a lot of small dogs in Govan, all
straining at the leash to eat people and straining their bowels to poo
There are also quite a few folk in Govan who smoke and drink too much.
The telltale sign is a voice that has a distinct Dalekish quality about
it, a gravelly gargle that would be more at home on BBC TV's Doctor Who.
Dogs and Daleks aside, Govan is in fact a very important place. It is
renowned the world over for its string vests. I jest. Very few people wear
string vests in Govan. Indeed, that is one of Govan's problems: very few
people do anything! Unemployment has eaten the heart out of the town.
Can I call it a town? It's really just a part of Glasgow these days, but
once it was its own place with its own people and shops and church and
was once so important that the Vikings raided it, and it would have been
something of more substance than a string vest that attracted them.
Govan Old Parish Church is... emm... old. It goes way back to the very
beginnings of Christianity - the site, that is, not the current
building. And today, inside that old church, they have one of
the most important collections of ancient carved stones in the world. But
don't tell anyone that I told you. It'll be our little secret.