Industry and Art: Manchester

We left London behind and tubed it to Euston Station to then take the train to Manchester. Many feelings were felt during the journey and shortly after arrival, including exhaustion, surprise, calm, and amusement.

B got very tired lugging the backpack. It's the longest the kid has had to carry it and his body weight to backpack ratio is the highest of us all. His shoulder blades, aka "chicken wings" were terribly sore. We keep saying the pack has to rest higher on his torso, above the hips so they carry more of the pack weight, but it feels awkward so I think maybe he's not tightening the waist straps enough. We'll get there.

Getting on the train was a welcome surprise though. We had FABULOUS seats, and food and drinks were included with our passes. I felt like an imposter, but our ticket scan passed the test, so we'll accept the perk, thanks. We relaxed for 2 hours while eating, journaling, and writing blog entries. I also massaged B's shoulder blades to prep him for the next backpack-carrying round.

Before moving on, I need to pause and take a moment to comment on taxis in London and Manchester, and how much we love them (we took one in London upon arrival, and one yet again in Manchester upon arrival). They are extremely clean and spacious inside and six people can step inside it with all their stuff. Three seats face forward, three face back. No awkward trunks to shove things into and no weird and questionable seats I may not want to sit on. Can we please have this style of taxi in Canada, pretty please?

Back to Manchester. S has a classmate that used to live here. She asked them what we should do while here and they said "take an umbrella". S and I laughed, ha ha, looking at the beautiful, 80% blue sky and we all left sans umbrellas to the laundromat and for our evening city discovery .

The first order of business was doing our laundry. We got into our room, grabbed our stinky clothes and headed to a laundromat. In the elevator adult S's laundry bag was slightly open. B said to him, "Close your bag, nobody wants to see your boxers." A lady that works in the hotel that was also in the elevator laughed and replied, "At least he wears boxers, not everyone does!" It was an amusing first exchange with a local.

After our laundry drop-off we headed into into town, including an area called Spinningfields. It's an outdoor urban neighbourhood with shopping, restaurants and work/live spaces. What struck me about it, and really all of Manchester, is how it appears industrial, artistic and vibrant all at the same time. We walked past museums, TV studios (for Coronation Street), a beautiful library (closed while we were here, sob!), and an art centre with an outdoor piano where the kids took a turn playing the piano. Much of the city reminds me of reclaimed, former industrial or historical spaces that are now full of urban life and various cultural flavours. Canadian examples are Granville Island in Vancouver or the Distillery District in Toronto. Overall, it felt like a really cool, vibrant, working-class city.

Our evening walk continued and guess what? It started to rain. Not a little but a total downpour. In our arrogance we left our umbrellas and raincoats at the hotel so we got SOAKED. Hurry, hurry, let's find a place to eat and dry off. Nope, that place is packed, there's nowhere to sit. Nope, that pub doesn't allow kids at any time of day (some do before a certain time). Nope, that place is a celebration of meat (and we don't really eat meat...). Nope, nope. Finally we came to a place called Comptoir Libanais (I believe I saw it in London too, it's likely a chain but whatever). Can I please have someone cook like this for me everyday? We had a mezze platter, halloumi cheese with figs (I could eat this the rest of my life), lentil soup, cauliflower tagine, delicious flatbreads... oh my goodness it was so good. It was not what my brain equated with eating in Manchester, and it was a very welcome surprise. So, the moral of the story is, don't be smug and listen to people that have lived here that tell you to take an umbrella, and sudden rain may drive you into eating in an unexpected yet delicious place.

That's it for Manchester, there's nothing else here, yawn...

Wait, what did you say? You're wondering about Manchester United and Old Trafford? Why would I write about that? Kidding of course, I will leave you hanging with that thought, and devote the next entire post to that fabulous experience

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