retiredmartin

Arriving back in Manchester last Tuesday, I had conflicting feelings. Finally, some great pubiness in Kendal, but only five (5) ticks for me efforts. BRAPA wouldn’t get out of bed on Saturday for five ticks.

But Manchester looked glorious,

the streets shone,

and the holy trinity on Portland Street called. I resisted.

Thrillingly, my night in Ibis Styles in Piccadilly Gardens cost only £41; tonight it’s closer to £200.

Remembering I’d forgot to eat all day, I met up with Matt at the Mexican themed Wolf at the Door where he just beat the 9pm curfew to buy me tacos and hazy keg.

Here’s the lovely family shot.

In the morning he showed me where he’s moving to in Dale Street next month and I got sort of jealous.

It’s not here.

His nearest GBG pub would have been the Jolly Angler, but now it’ll be Beatnikz. Such is life.

I bought him the house breakfast muffin at the Koffee Pot, which I remembered from when it was a greasy spoon on Stevenson Square rather than an all day cafe bar. Such is life.

And he gave me a late Father’s Day present he’d picked up from Bristol, which sounded great when I got home.

Wish I was 20 and living in Manchester.