Manchester: Part Two
More tea and curry, and a Full English to boot.
We got up about mid-morning Saturday. I watched Looney Tunes while waiting for the shower. I hadn't watched Saturday morning cartoons in a long time.
Tom and I headed back to town in search of that time-honoured tradition, the Full English Breakfast. Walking around the City Centre was revealing just how much the city's food establishment has been transformed from English to Asian. All we wanted was a greasy spoon that served an all-day breakfast (as it was, by this point, the early afternoon). We finally found one.
The Full English typically consists of two eggs, bacon and sausage, baked beans, crushed tomatoes, and two toast. And of course it was all washed down with a nice cup of tea. The morning papers were stacked there for us to read. I picked the one that looked the least trashy. Well, ok, halfway between trashy (The Sun) and pretentious (The Times). I don't really recall which one it was. The big headline was the train crash the night before in Cumbria that had killed a passenger and wounded several others.
Tom and I wandered around, stopping in at a pub now and again for a pint of cider or bitter. We found The Living Room on Deansgate, the Manchester unit of our restaurant. The presence of a doorman and our casual dress with backpacks told us not to bother trying to get in. After all, all of the units are pretty similar. The decor's the same, as is the menu.
Around 6:00pm we headed toward Oxford Road Station to meet up with Tom's brother Alex, a University of Manchester masters architecture student, who was arriving from Chesterfield, where he had attended the Nottingham Forest game, which ended in Forest's favour. Tom and I waited at Grand Central, a nearby pub which, unbeknownst to us, has taken on a heavy metal motif. Alex showed up and joined us for a pint before we headed off.
We stopped in at Sainsbury's to buy some sandwich-making supplies before heading down to Alex's place just off the Curry Mile. His house was a little less clean than Rob's but I wouldn't expect anything less (or more) from a swamped architecture student. Tom made us some sandwiches and we ate while watching a very blue-tinted television.
From there we headed out to the Friendship, where a couple of Alex's friends were sat watching the Wales-France Six Nations rugby game. Before long I was talking architecture with Alex's friends. That ended abruptly as we left for another spot.
We went to a busy Oxord Road bar for a pint of real ale. I don't recall the name of the ale I chose, but Alex and his friends had gotten a Manchester. You know it's local when it's got the name of the city in it.
From there we hit a few more places around the City Centre. It being Saturday night, it was difficult to find space anywhere. Eventually we ended up at a club right next door to the place where we had our staff party a month or so prior. We stayed there for a couple hours and then made our way back to the Curry Mile for some more fantastic take away. I had a nice lamb curry. It was quite hot for my baby tongue, but I thoroughly enjoyed it. I'd have to say the take away in Manchester is the best I've had in Britain thus far.
Awakening from a less comfortable sleep than the night before, on two chairs pushed together (hey it's cheaper than a hostel), we headed out from Alex's to catch our 11:45am bus back to Nottingham. Routine Sunday repairs on the rail lines meant there was no train back. The bus ride was to be three hours. That idea didn't bother me until these two loud-mouth rudeboys got on and sat beside and behind us. They were the types that didn't seem to get the concept of sitting still and talking quietly. Luckily before long they settled down, and save for the occasional text alert on their phones, they weren't too bad.
The bus took us southeastward through the Peak District. The scenery was beautiful. Despite being tired I didn't want to sleep, this time for fear of missing the sights. The terrain was hilly (as you might have guessed from the word 'peak') with lots of vegetation, and little creeks and waterfalls dotting the landscape. Seems like a nice place to come back to with a backpack and a tent.
We arrived in Nottingham via Sheffield and after a couple hours rest I was off to work for a fairly laid back Sunday evening. Back to reality. The pleasant surprise of three consecutive days off later in the week awaited me however. I could handle that.
Cheers.
We got up about mid-morning Saturday. I watched Looney Tunes while waiting for the shower. I hadn't watched Saturday morning cartoons in a long time.
Tom and I headed back to town in search of that time-honoured tradition, the Full English Breakfast. Walking around the City Centre was revealing just how much the city's food establishment has been transformed from English to Asian. All we wanted was a greasy spoon that served an all-day breakfast (as it was, by this point, the early afternoon). We finally found one.
The Full English typically consists of two eggs, bacon and sausage, baked beans, crushed tomatoes, and two toast. And of course it was all washed down with a nice cup of tea. The morning papers were stacked there for us to read. I picked the one that looked the least trashy. Well, ok, halfway between trashy (The Sun) and pretentious (The Times). I don't really recall which one it was. The big headline was the train crash the night before in Cumbria that had killed a passenger and wounded several others.
Tom and I wandered around, stopping in at a pub now and again for a pint of cider or bitter. We found The Living Room on Deansgate, the Manchester unit of our restaurant. The presence of a doorman and our casual dress with backpacks told us not to bother trying to get in. After all, all of the units are pretty similar. The decor's the same, as is the menu.
Around 6:00pm we headed toward Oxford Road Station to meet up with Tom's brother Alex, a University of Manchester masters architecture student, who was arriving from Chesterfield, where he had attended the Nottingham Forest game, which ended in Forest's favour. Tom and I waited at Grand Central, a nearby pub which, unbeknownst to us, has taken on a heavy metal motif. Alex showed up and joined us for a pint before we headed off.
We stopped in at Sainsbury's to buy some sandwich-making supplies before heading down to Alex's place just off the Curry Mile. His house was a little less clean than Rob's but I wouldn't expect anything less (or more) from a swamped architecture student. Tom made us some sandwiches and we ate while watching a very blue-tinted television.
From there we headed out to the Friendship, where a couple of Alex's friends were sat watching the Wales-France Six Nations rugby game. Before long I was talking architecture with Alex's friends. That ended abruptly as we left for another spot.
We went to a busy Oxord Road bar for a pint of real ale. I don't recall the name of the ale I chose, but Alex and his friends had gotten a Manchester. You know it's local when it's got the name of the city in it.
From there we hit a few more places around the City Centre. It being Saturday night, it was difficult to find space anywhere. Eventually we ended up at a club right next door to the place where we had our staff party a month or so prior. We stayed there for a couple hours and then made our way back to the Curry Mile for some more fantastic take away. I had a nice lamb curry. It was quite hot for my baby tongue, but I thoroughly enjoyed it. I'd have to say the take away in Manchester is the best I've had in Britain thus far.
Awakening from a less comfortable sleep than the night before, on two chairs pushed together (hey it's cheaper than a hostel), we headed out from Alex's to catch our 11:45am bus back to Nottingham. Routine Sunday repairs on the rail lines meant there was no train back. The bus ride was to be three hours. That idea didn't bother me until these two loud-mouth rudeboys got on and sat beside and behind us. They were the types that didn't seem to get the concept of sitting still and talking quietly. Luckily before long they settled down, and save for the occasional text alert on their phones, they weren't too bad.
The bus took us southeastward through the Peak District. The scenery was beautiful. Despite being tired I didn't want to sleep, this time for fear of missing the sights. The terrain was hilly (as you might have guessed from the word 'peak') with lots of vegetation, and little creeks and waterfalls dotting the landscape. Seems like a nice place to come back to with a backpack and a tent.
We arrived in Nottingham via Sheffield and after a couple hours rest I was off to work for a fairly laid back Sunday evening. Back to reality. The pleasant surprise of three consecutive days off later in the week awaited me however. I could handle that.
Cheers.
posted by Mark Bauche at 3:25 PM
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