Up close and personal at First Minister’s Questions

WHENEVER I visit our capital, I often ask myself: “Could I live here?”

Besides the fact I couldn’t afford to live there, and as different as the two cities are, I usually conclude that had I been brought up in Auld Reekie it’d be as dear to me as old Glasgow town.

Earwigging in on two folks sitting behind me on a Lothian bus recently, I hear a young chap being congratulated on being accepted to both Glasgow and Edinburgh universities. He is then asked why he chose the latter. In an awfully pucker English accent, he replies: “Obvs! Edinburgh is practically England!”

I’m not sure how well this would go down in Pilton. I was sorely tempted to point out to him that Scotland’s devolved parliament was just a few stops away.

Myself and a bunch of braw women from Kelvin were there last week, invited to Holyrood as the guests of Sandra White. We were to be given the tour and attend First Ministers Questions.

I was keen to see if our lot had picked up any bad habits from London. Unlike Westminster’s debating chamber, where the ranked seats face each other in an adversarial way, the design of the Scottish Parliament is intended to be more in the European style. A kind of hug. We all agreed the more European hugs the better, these days.

As we shuffled along the public gallery bench, Labour MSP Jackie Baillie bounced up out of her chair and came to say a cheery hello. Forty years ago – yes folks, 40 – I was employed as a community artist by the Gorbals Fair Arts Society. I was putting on plays in John Mains Community Centre, while Jackie ran the Unemployed Workers’ Centre round the corner.

I have met the First Minister before at benefit and political do’s where we’ve chatted but, as parliament convened, it felt quite special watching her at her work. I was reminded of the time Johnny Beattie and I were invited to St Margaret’s Hospice in Clydebank when the Queen paid a visit.

Having been brought up with the tenet that the blood running through all of us is of the same hue, I surprised myself during the royal visit by feeling quite rapt by the nearness of the face that is on every coin or note I’ve ever carried in my purse.

This was also the first time I had seen Ruth Davidson up close and by no means in the mood to be personable. From the first moment the Tories, who I noted were mostly men, seemed to favour thumping on their desks in a very Tom Brown’s School Days kind of a way.

Don’t get me wrong, I think parliament should be confrontational: the opposition must hold the elected body to account. But seeing Willie Rennie burl around in his seat, stick his lanky legs into the aisle, with back turned to the business under discussion, and start up banter with the nearest Tory just made me want to rap his knuckles.

It was good to hear Patrick Harvie press the First Minster about the use of the dodgy term “domestic extremists” applied to anti-fracking protesters by Police Scotland. Even if all she felt she could say was, “Pat son, if I started telling the polis what to do, imagine the pelters I’d get!” (That’s not a direct quote.) Of course, anyone can go and watch the business of government any time – just phone Visitors Service 0131 348 5200 or email visit@parliament.scot

You know you are old when... DASHING for a bus, from Buchanan Street Underground Station up to Buchanan Bus Station gets your heart pounding as if you were running up the steep slopes of Arthur’s Seat.

‘‘ I was keen to see if our lot had picked up any bad habits from London’s parliament