Doors, hastily flung up as night falls, are the first sighting of a bonfire this Guy Fawkes. The pyramid is hollow and actually doesn't get lit until late, late on, and then only by a coupla rogues.
Seems like everyone and his granny is away to state sponsored events these days. No, actually, that's not quite true as there are plenty of fireworks zooming and swooshing across Govan's skies, Deep booms echo round the sperr grun, and the squeal of rockets ricochets off the sandstone walls. It all adds to the feeling of being stranded in a wartime landscape.
Pity the bonfires are lacking. And it's not for lack of space.
A reliable source claims they fry in a lard extracted from a herd of pedigree cattle from old Italia and specially imported to give Perella chips a flavour to die for. Yeah, I'll buy that. Something's making them delicious.