cop26: a mini-diary
“There’s a strange feeling in the city centre” says my co-worker, not for the first time. Although only in his early 20s, he has already adopted the manner of a whaling ship’s captain hardened by years at sea: instead of feeding frenzies off the coast of Maine, he has witnessed bath bomb disasters and shower gel spills of industrial proportions.
He’s not wrong, though. For the last two weeks, the centre of Glasgow has been relatively subdued. The COP26 conference rolled into town without much fanfare, but still managed to spread a feeling of tension across the city. During a run around the park, I see that my usual route is blocked off by metal mesh fencing at the Kelvingrove Museum, and cops stand at all possible entrances. Diplomats, identified by their conference lanyards, suits, and general air of studied officiousness, are admitted through gates. Occasionally they escape their conference centres in Finnieston and the West End and traverse other parts of the city (see illustration below).
At work, a pair of stern Dutch bureaucrats want to buy bath bombs. “He wants one for his girlfriend.” says one, nodding at her companion. I show him a CBD-infused bathbomb, called 4:20, which seems to please him, as much as it is possible for this particular person to show signs of enjoyment or pleasure. I put it in a little pink bag for him and send him in the direction of the checkouts.
A photographer in the year above bursts into the studio one day, het up by something. “I’ve just seen Emma Watson eating lunch in Mono and I had to tell someone” he announces to the room. He doesn’t know what she was eating, which is disappointing for fans of grisly details like me. Was she noshing on a Southern Fried tofu burger or a vegan black pudding? We may never know. On the first Monday night of the conference, I am waiting to cross the road near the motorway when a police officer on a motorcycle draws up and barks an order at me to not move. Presently, a full security detail of vehicles speeds past, followed by “The Beast” - the unique black Cadillac that transports the US President around on state visits.
Things proceed, mostly as planned. Greta Thunberg arrives on the coast via boat, and denounces the leaders gathered at the conference as spouting only “blah blah blah” and not planning for decisive action against the burgeoning climate emergency. At the organised marches that follow, instances of “blah blah blah” proliferate on cardboard signs and banners. I go to the biggest march, on Saturday the 6th of November. The feeling that something could go terribly wrong hangs in the air, a condition for all events attended by masses of people at the moment. As I walk in the drizzling rain and wind with thousands of others, a party atmosphere develops, aided by the constant sound of rhythmic percussion. Extinction Rebellion can be criticised for their reckless gluing of people to commuter trains, but they have rehearsed enough that their drum section is now pretty tight.
Walking from the West End into the city, we round a corner. The sun breaks through the grey clouds, and the street is suddenly cast in glorious light. I look back down the sloping street and see that rain is still falling. Behind me, a rainbow bursts across a patch of blue sky. It feels momentous. The crowd goes wild, reeling and dancing around on the tarmac. I reach for my phone, eager to capture the moment. Alas. My storage has run out.
Things I Have Liked Recently:
99% Invisible’s Articles of Interest, a short podcast series delving into the history of clothing. The standout is the Knockoffs episode, featuring logomania king Dapper Dan;
This incredible, atmosphereless video of Shirley & Company performing "Shame, Shame, Shame” on what looks like the TED talk stage.
Handy Geng, a Chinese inventor, building a piano that can be driven like a car and also used to make BBQ pork skewers;
I have made a huge material improvement to my own life by buying a bottle of Piz Buin sunscreen to put on in the mornings, not because it’s highly rated, but because its smell reminds me of summers when I was little;
One of the most persuasive organisations attending the COP26 conference has been Minga Indigena, the delegates of which represent a number of different indigenous groups from across the American continent, including the area of Amazonia, which is ground zero for mass deforestation and species extinction. Read more about their mission on their website;
Erica Dorn, the lead graphic designer on The French Dispatch, is sharing a closer look at all of the cute little set pieces from the film over on Instagram;