Different Worlds.

The other day I was making my way from Lanark to Livingston. The plan was to meet up with my daughter Belinda, have some lunch and see a movie. Belinda fancied "The Book Of Eli". I wondered if Denzil Washington was going to be a post apocalypic librarian, but the film, and the day, turned out to be not what I was expecting.

First, my train from Lanark was cancelled. With an hour to kill I looked for somewhere quiet to read. In the run up to lunchtime, that's not Lanark's tearooms or cafes. Too much chat. Lanark's library is a little too far from the train station, so I went for the next best thing ... Wetherspoons.

Despite working in radio for over 15 years, lunchtime in a pub is not something I do very often. So not being a seasoned pub grubber, lunchtime in Lanark's Weatherspoons was a different world. At the end of the pub near the bar, tables of men, gathered round a silent wall mounted flatscreen, flickering images of a muted Sky Sports taking the place of a camp fire.

I found myself a quiet little nook at the other end of the bar, I was here to read remember. I came across a couple of interesting bits of news. The company that makes Irn Bru [Scotland's other national drink] have been given permission to build a giant wind turbine that will provide 60% of the energy needed for their Cumbernauld factory. And according to new research, blonde women are more agressive.

As I was digesting this information, my end of the pub started to fill up with mums with pre-school kids. All of the kids were drinking Irn Bru. All of the mums were blonde. I decided not to make any sudden moves. Especially as my nook was obviously popular. All of the mums had made a beeline for my table and I received a salvo of raised eyebrows when they spotted me. Not sure if it was because the table wasn't free, or because I'd broken some unspoken rule by not sitting with the men.

It was time to catch the next train. The journey includes changing trains at a place called Holytown. While I was waiting, a very long freight train rumbled through. This was an Eddie Stobart/Tesco train. Three years ago the [then Labour led] Scottish administration gave the road haulier a £200,000 grant to help set up the freight service, which takes all products bound for Scottish Tesco stores to Grangemouth where they're sent on to the supermarket chain's distribution centre in Livingston. Large letters on the sides of the freight train proudly boast about it's eco friendliness. The freight service has cut 260 lorries a week from Scotland's road, and generated around £3million of environmental benefits.

Eventually, I made it to Livingston, but because of the lost hour Belinda and I had to eat somewhere close to the cinema. She chose ... Wetherspoons!

Livingston's Wetherspoons was a lot less tribal [almost every table contained a mix of sexes], and it was much more exciting. We'd just ordered our food when the free cabaret started. Out of nowhere there was a carfuffle, as bar staff attempted to eject a skinny bloke who quickly ended up shirtless as he and the staff treated us all to a wriggly ballet that morphed into a Keystone Cops chase through and out of the pub and round and round the fountain outside. We wondered if the shirtless chap had failed to tip.

There was a real danger the movie would be an anti-climax. It was okay though, a brilliantly filmed vision of a very different world. Imagine "The Road" directed by John Woo, and the Pope.