Queen Street Station

En route to Singer station. Weirdly the train heating seems to be repeated saying in a tinny, hollow, robototic voice "are we theeeeeere?" Somehow the voice also sounds Scottish, female, and like a steel violin with long, drawn out strokes. I feel a bit unnerved.

We're coming through Anniesland now. 

Queen Street station is still in turmoil, and rather skeletal. However, I did notice this new wall of glazing. I'm not sure it sits that well with the big old curved window, but right-enough, it looks more aesthetically pleasing than Burger King.

Westerton now. Not long until I'll be in the Kilpatrick Hills with PK.