She belongs to Glasgow

To Glasgow, for my father's lovely partner Marion's 'surprise' 70th birthday party. I've met many of Marion's family, the MacCormicks, over the years. They're Scottish aristocracy in my book, and in a lot of people's books, being mostly descended from one of the founders of the Scottish National Party. We've certainly come to the right place for a heated debate on independence.

Scottish party people 

The venue is Marion's niece's spacious flat in Hillhead. This isn't far from where my father grew up, in a five-storey Georgian terraced house just off the Great Western Road. Dad's stamping ground was the nearby Botanic Gardens, with its Victorian glasshouse, the Kibble Palace.

My father's childhood home

Looking up inside the Kibble

Marion grew up near here too, in a top-floor flat in the prestigious Park district, with its sweeping, circular Georgian terraces overlooking Kelvingrove park and its famous museum.

Marion beneath her childhood home

I treated myself to first class on the way up to Glasgow, but Virgin's service is not a patch on East Coast Trains, with the hot water machine broken and the food offering, a snack box, containing a tiny package of nuts and a brioche rubbery enough to use as wood filler. I jump on the Metro to Hillhead, where the station's tiled entrance has been decorated by writer and artist Alasdair Gray, a tribute to this thriving, fashionable neighbourhood at the heart of Glasgow's West End. I love his quote in the middle: 'Do not let daily to-ing and fro-ing, to earn what we need to keep going, prevent what you once felt when wee, hopeful and free.'

Tiled mural at Hillhead station

Close-up of one of the panels

Marion's party is a huge success. Some 50 friends and family gather to toast her special day (though she had actually fled the country on the actual day, back in January, for a cycle tour of Rajasthan with friends). Tables groan with hams, quiches, salads, cakes and puddings. The shower serves as a great cold-store for fine wine and fizz. Reminiscence is in the air and there's robust discussion on the pros and cons of Scottish independence – my brother Sean and sister Moira, both voting this September, are foolhardy enough to ask for some clarification, which is duly and vehemently given.

The bar

Cake o'clock

The following morning, following a big family breakfast, Marion leads a few of us on a walking tour of the West End, starting at the university with its historic cloisters. We take in Kelvingrove Art Gallery and an exhibition on the Glasgow Boys school of painters.

Glasgow Uni cloisters

Spring arrives in Kelvingrove

Head set – Kelvingrove gallery

Then we hop on a bus to the Glasgow School of Art. We sign up for a tour of the Charles Rennie Mackintosh building, completed in 1909. An artist and designer as well as an architect, Mackintosh took a holistic approach to the project, extending his remit to include interior decor, furniture and fittings. It's fascinating doing the tour with my brother Roddy, an architect, and he mentions that his practice, Cullinan Architects, designed the new shower room in the director's apartment. Sadly it is currently out of bounds.

Skye at the Glasgow School of Art main entrance

Stairwell – concrete never looked better

Interior window

Opposite Mackintosh's building, an extension to the campus is in progress, a glass-panelled monolith designed by a New York architect, Steven Holl. Controversy has raged about the choice of scheme. I like it, particularly the way it wraps around one of the school's original buildings. There's a building team on site, but their main task today seems to be removing all the green panels of glass that have cracked. 'Those panels are a gift for any Glaswegian vandal,' says Rod.

Glasgow School of Art's wraparound newbuild

And so, waving goodbye to Marion, it's back on the train with Rod and Skye, computers and homework all the way.

Room with a view