Mancunian Way

Northward we go for a concert adventure

It was either Glastonbury or Radiohead. Glastonbury is close to Bristol and offered a myriad of bands, but it would prove to be an expensive weekend, once camping gear, supplies, transport, and festival-priced food were sorted out. Going to see Radiohead in Manchester, on the other hand, meant only the cost of the ticket, transportation, cheap hostel accommodation and a few meals. In the end Radiohead won out. And Brad, Nadine and I arranged our weekend in Manchester.

Leaving it to the last, we found ourselves with little choice of hostels. I finally booked us in at the Abbey Hotel, a quaint little place in Crumpsall, about two miles from Manchester City Centre. It was only £20 per person per night, so the price was right. The horrid train system in Britain struck again, however, and both myself and my London counterparts had no choice but to take the bus, and head back Monday, rather than Sunday night.

I arrived in Manchester early Saturday afternoon, after spending over four hours in a bus, and an hour at my favourite place, Birmingham Bus Station. I did learn something about this oh-so-wonderful terminal while I was there though. In the middle of the floor was a glass case with an architectural model of the old Birmingham Bus Station (Digbeth Station) renovated and expanded. As it turns out, this new one is only temporary, which would explain the cheap plastic barriers and rain shelters. My only question being: what becomes of this building when the old one reopens?

I arrived in Manchester and set out from the bus station to Piccadilly Gardens. I was taken slightly aback by the number of cross-dressed men passing me on the sidewalk. It's not uncommon to see one or two in a large city, but on that walk there were upwards of seven or eight, all in very smart businesswoman attire. I concluded without ever confirming, that there must be some kind of transvestite convention in town.

I learned that Brad and Nadine wouldn't be arriving until 7:00pm so I had a bit of time to wander around, and check into the hotel. I hopped on the tram and headed up to Crumpsall, finding the place quite easily. The neighbourhood looked a bit run down in places, but wasn't scary by any means. Across from the hotel there was a large party of wedding goers, who had hired a bus to aid in their festivities. I got buzzed into the hotel and was greeted by the Scottish owner, who I had spoken to briefly by phone the week earlier. I checked into the room and was surprised to see an ensuite bathroom (though we found out later the shower didn't work). Despite the smell of new carpet, which I suppose is better than old musty carpet, the room was perfect for crashing in after a long day of walking around Manchester.

I headed back into town, stopping off at Victoria Station and visiting Urbis, the museum of urban life, which had opened since my last visit here. I spent an hour or more there, expoloring the Manga and urban gardening exhibits before heading out to Exchange Square, a project that was a collaboration with my company. There was/is a temporary London Eye-like ferris wheel set up there. It's placed in a very awkward place, cutting off the square. It was meant to be the final weekend of its installation but Mancunians were keen to keep it at least until 2009, so they could finally have a proper New Year's Eve party.

After much walking and a coffee stop or two I headed back to the bus station to greet Brad and Nadine. Leaving the station, the hotel-bound trip was repeated. They dropped their stuff and we headed back into Manchester to find food. The three of us together form the most indecisive group of people of all time, so this was no easy task. We narrowed it down to Chinatown, but were torn between Japanese and Chinese. We settled for the latter and were soon seated with menus in hand. The place was a bit posh, and I think the servers were a bit uneasy with us. We had a great meal nevertheless consisting of all sorts: chicken, beef, prawns, squid, duck, vegetables, rice and an endless supply of green tea.

We poked around the City Centre for a bit, hoping to find a place to sit and have a quiet drink, but by this time, most of the pubs were closing. Our choices were running out, so we settled for some cold soft drinks from a convenience store and headed back to the hostel. It had been a long day of travel and walking after all.

On Sunday morning, we headed down for our included breakfast to learn that it was not the typical cereal and toast breakfast one usually gets at a hostel, but a Full English, with eggs, bacon, sausage, beans, toast, coffee and tea. That would have cost £5 at a cafe. It was the perfect fuel for the morning. Back in Manchester, we poked around the shops and the Arndale, and then headed to Albert Square for the Dutch/German market, which was full of foods and beverages of all sorts. It was here that the rain hit. Luckily we were sat under a large tent with tables. As the rain weakened a bit we decided to head out to find some cheap rain gear, in case it didn't let up. Brad was wearing a waterproof jacket, but Nadine and I were vulnerable in our soakable clothes. We hit Primark and searched around a bit. Brad was adamant about the "poncho" style but we never managed to find anything of that description. Finally the umbrella rack offered us a water/wind resistant jacket in a pouch for £4. Nadine and I each purchased one, in time to walk out into a downpour. Oh, British weather!

Eventually the rain stopped and as we sat down on a pub patio for some lunch, the clouds cleared away and the sun began to shine. It would continue to shine for the remainder of the day. One who is superstitious might say that if we hadn't purchased the rain gear, it would have rained all day. The meal was nice, though they didn't have half of the stuff we ordered. I had a pint of Old Peculiar, which I hadn't had on tap since sitting in a pub in Halifax with Brad and Nadine eight months prior.

As 4:00pm approached we decided to head toward the Lancashire County Cricket Club in Old Trafford to join the concert queue. We stood on the tram platform at Piccadilly Gardens and boarded the tram that we thought was heading the right direction, based on the sign in its window. However, we soon realised it wasn't and alighted in time to see the platform begin to fill with people, all headed toward Old Trafford. Brad explained that we ought to walk back to the Gardens to catch the right train. It took several minutes for me to comprehend this, as there is an uber-confusing loop at the Gardens that sends trams in both directions. Eventually I got it, and we stood with the hoards upon the platform there.

Several empty trams heading the opposite way pulled up to the collective sighs of the people waiting. I can imagine this drama occurs every time there is a Manchester United game. Eventually a tram came and it was packed full. We scrambled on and grabbed whatever piece of metal was available for stability. At each platform more people stood waiting, but few managed to squeeze on. Brad and Nadine recalled their time in Japan, saying that this was less crowded than normal everyday train service there.

As the Old Trafford stop approached there was a feeling of anticipation, and a hope that people would remain calm when exiting the train. It all went very smoothly, and we all followed a stream of people. The minimalistic sounds of Thom Yorke's beats were emanating from the cricket ground. Within moments we were in the LCCC's large circular stadium. We bought some t-shirts and then wandered through the food and drink fair to get some ciders. Radiohead have tried to make this tour as eco-friendly as possible and so all drinks were served in waxed paper cups. The private food vendors weren't really on board though. So for all the effort made, it was only a wee bit more eco-friendly than your average outdoor concert.

We sat in the stands and watched/listened to the Bjork-esque voice of Bat for Lashes and the eclectic stylings of MGMT, before heading down into the crowd for the main event. The stage looked a bit like a Roman temple with its peaked pediment. As the preparations for Radiohead began, long white strands of LEDs were manoeuvred into place. I had heard great things about the light show. And all using very little energy, as LEDs don't require much. Eventually they came onto the stage, as the crowd surged forward. They played most of their new album, whose songs have all become familiar to me since buying it a couple months before. The rest were classics from their repertoire. The side screens provided visual aids for us the height-deprived, as all the tallest people decided to stand directly in front of us. I could catch glimpses now and again as people shifted.

They played for two hours, with two encores and the crowd loved every minute of it. The weather held out for the whole show, and as the sun set the light show got brighter and more colourful. Being in the crowd it was hard to tell how far back the people stretched, but judging from the sound of the cheers, there were a fair number there.

After the show everyone slowly made their way out. We headed toward the tram queue, which seemed to stretch the entire width of the stadium. We overheard people asking a mounted policeman about walking and ventured up to ask him ourselves. Standing in the queue seemed more and more like a pointless endeavour, so we followed the crowd down the road and turned right for the long walk from Old Trafford to Manchester. It was to take about forty odd minutes. Toward the end we made attempts to hale a cab but were unsuccessful as all were engaged or heading the wrong way. When we got back into town, the trams had stopped running for the night so we stood on a taxi rank and finally had success with a black cab. We hadn't realised that on top of the concert, the Euro final was on that night too, so many people were out at various pubs and bars watching the game.

Brad and Nadine woke early the next morning to catch an early bus back to London. We said our goodbyes and I sank back into bed to have a bit of a lie-in. I grabbed my Full English Breakfast, and then checked out. I had booked off work for the day and my bus was due to leave at 11:40am, arriving back in Bristol at 5:00pm. Back at the Bristol Bus Station, multitudes of bebackpacked campers were heading home from Glastonbury.

The next adventure was to be in the Mediterranean.

Cheers.