It is of paramount importance to the six or seven readers of this blog and myself to be able to nip off the M8 and get decent coffee whilst not handing over any gelt for parking or being delayed by traffic. That’s why Tiso is so handy. Exit J15 or 16.
A friend pointed out that yet another dimension of Scotland exists in parallel with the bit that’s drunk in Hope Street all evening (often the early afternoon, certainly the very early morning), stumbling into karaoke bars, snogging bouncers, yelling, puking, eating more chips and thoroughly enjoying themselves in the taxi rank. This other dimension of Scotland is up early, hurling itself down mountain bike tracks, trudging up hills with enormous rucksacks and running 24 hour enduro races in the rain. For them, Tiso is a delightful guilty-pleasure money-magnet and a giant toyshop. Which is exactly what Tiso looks like when you sit in the Summit café on the mezzanine level, happy that your steely carriage is in the free customer parking. Filled with your stinky outdoorsy kit.
The Summit is in fact reachable by stairs, no ropes or ice screws needed, and is a mildly cavernous hanger space with tables, booths and a stool-height bar to sit at and covert all the outdoors gear below that you already have and don’t really need to upgrade. But…
Food is practical and on the hearty side. Breakfast being fairly reasonably priced at around £14 but £7.30 for a scone and coffee seemed more acceptable to my modest needs. As was the dark cup and saucer. The scone was good, but the coffee was a dark roast I couldn’t pick out of a lineup. It does the job but without individuality. Like a white Transit.
The vibe overall at the Summit is canteen-y, rather than cosy and service is efficient enough without being that interested in the punters. But then everyone probably wants to get straight back out and run up a mountain or rappel down through a waterfall.
The Summit has rather pleasing mountainabilia on the walls. A vintage ice-axe here and wooden skis there distracted my attention just enough to stop me from getting paddleboard accessories. Or even a paddleboard. But I did work on my Christmas wants list. Please email me direct.
One can do a lot worse than the Summit. Of course, we all know it’s not reaching the summit that the hard part, it’s getting back down. Without buying a £380 technical down jacket. Or a £145 tactical fleece. Don’t even glance at the bikes.
I’m happy just to accept socks again this year. L/XL, Alpaca. I am a simple soul. £34.
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