More holiday snaps from Manchester. It really is a treat to visit when you’re not a bag of nerves.
Worth remembering is that this blog is basically a diary, like Pepys without the lechery (that’s BRAPA) so you occasionally get posts without pubs. NO, you can’t have your subscription back.
Sunday evening after that quick
pint two schooners in Track was a battle to get the rest of the family to leave the comfort of a room with WiFi.
Eventually, we set off for Spinningfields. Grief, what a dump.
Mrs RM and Matt were adamant they weren’t hungry (having pigged out at the Cutlery Works in Sheffield) but half an hour later were getting irritable at how many places in Manchester were shut on the Sunday before the Bank Holiday. And the open ones were packed. Same thing the Southworths noted at New Year. Odd.
Me stopping every two minutes to coo over the architecture probably didn’t help.
Thank goodness,then, for the Hungarian community, serving up sausages and chips outside the Town Hall.
Not quite This & That bargain prices, but warming and with a Magyar folk band performing Kangaroo Air Force Ventilator covers.
In the morning, I took Matt out for some father and son shopping. You know how much men love shopping. We’d completed that malarkey in seven minutes.
On the way back I pointed out the artistic highlights of Oldham Street.
Matt is 18 tomorrow so will legally be able to drink four pints of Old Tom in the Castle. But I bet he doesn’t. He’ll be in Cambridge Spoons drinking milk.
Talking of milk.
“Ugh, that’s mayo” screamed Mrs RM.
This is the house coffee at Ca Phe Viet, where Mrs RM enjoyed the noodle soup while I stuck to Bahn Mi, the hipster’s choice.
There then followed the most tortuous two hours of my life, at least since my Certified Accountancy Costing exam in 1984, as Mrs RM forlornly tried to buy me a casual jacket.
By the end, as we finally found our way out of the posh shops opposite Sinclairs, even Mrs RM needed a beer.