Manchester

Statue to blind World War One returnees

On Tuesday morning, Shirley and I took a train to the city of Manchester. I had not been there in ten years, even though it is only thirty five miles from Sheffield. Between our two great northern cities there's a chain of hills - The Pennines - often referred to as "the backbone of England". Many Lancashire people never cross those hills and it's the same over here in Yorkshire. We are all northerners but somewhat disconnected.

We were mainly heading to Manchester to visit The National Football Museum and Manchester Cathedral but I agreed with Shirley that she would have some shopping time. She is not the only woman who loves to have a mooch round shops whereas I, like most blokes, view that activity as a kind of slow mental torture.

After leaving Picadilly Station we made our way towards the Arndale Shopping Centre but first we found ourselves walking down one of Manchester's most famous streets - Canal Street which is the epicentre of the city's "Gay Village". With its bars and clubs and eateries it is a neighbourhood in which gay people can be quite open and confident in their associations. 

Times have changed for the better in that regard. Once homosexual people had to function in veiled secrecy, often watching their backs. I am not saying that all prejudice and discrimination has gone - it hasn't - but it seems to me that the wider society is far more accepting of gay culture than it once was. Canal Street is part of that change and this weekend, Manchester will host its forty first Pride Weekend.

Canal Street

Ten years on I was impressed with Manchester city centre. It was buzzing and though it pains me to say this, it certainly felt like the northern capital. There has been a lot of upward building, more pedestrianised streets, more public art and for a Tuesday there were a lot of visitors - mostly I am sure from the Greater Manchester region which includes big towns like Oldham, Wigan, Stockport, Rochdale and Altrincham.

We had lunch in Manchester Art Gallery  cafe and went upstairs to check out two galleries that contain works  by one of my favourite artists: Manchester-born L.S.Lowry ( 1887 - 1976).

"An Island" by L.S.Lowry (1942)

Then it was on to the cathedral which I had never visited before and nearby was The National Football Museum. In there I wore a virtual reality headset for the first time and played the part of a goalkeeper though the steward in charge told me not to dive as a proper goalkeeper does.

I also tried my hand at commentating on a "Match of the Day" game before watching the replay. I may have missed my vocation!

There were lots of football-related exhibits but I was miffed because of the murky lighting. Explanatory labels were very difficult to read and I wished I had taken a torch with me (American: flashlight). I was further miffed that there was hardly any reference to the big part that Sheffield played in the gestation of modern football.

The National Football Museum

This city is home to the world's first proper football clubs - Sheffield F.C. and Hallam  F.C. and Hallam's Sandygate Road ground is the oldest football ground in the world.. Furthermore the "Sheffield Rules" for football formed the basis of The English Football Association rules that followed  later in the nineteenth century. The National Football Museum should celebrate these facts in my humble opinion but of course it is in Manchester.

Rather than heading back to the railway station at teatime we had drinks on Canal Street and then went to the Arnero Restaurant for a traditional North Indian curry meal.

It was a grand day out. In "Uniglo"  Shirley bought herself some trousers and two tops while I chatted with a horse dealer from Stockport. It seems that his wife also suffers from the shopping virus. The train home was on time and Butch was waiting dutifully for us at Dore and Totley Station.

View from the west door of Manchester Cathedral