Manchester: A Brief Walkabout - 24th March 2010
I have been coming to Manchester for years. Since I
was a child, in fact. I was born thirty miles away, in North Staffordshire.
You know what? As great a city as it is, I've never really liked the place. Never really felt, 'in danger' exactly, just never felt particularly comfortable. Does that make sense? To me, this picture sums up Manchester.
I really can't say what it is, precisely. I've never actually been involved in any trouble, nor have I even been present when anything has gone down. I just get a very uneasy feeling whenever I'm there. I think, in part, it has a bit to do with the bombing of The Arndale Centre, some years ago. I was due to be there that day but, for some reason, I decided to leave my visit for the following week. I didn't go into the centre of Manchester again until about ten years later.
You know what? As great a city as it is, I've never really liked the place. Never really felt, 'in danger' exactly, just never felt particularly comfortable. Does that make sense? To me, this picture sums up Manchester.
I really can't say what it is, precisely. I've never actually been involved in any trouble, nor have I even been present when anything has gone down. I just get a very uneasy feeling whenever I'm there. I think, in part, it has a bit to do with the bombing of The Arndale Centre, some years ago. I was due to be there that day but, for some reason, I decided to leave my visit for the following week. I didn't go into the centre of Manchester again until about ten years later.
Mind you, my feelings about the city go back
further than that. I've been coming to gigs at The Apollo, and other venues,
since the late '70s and, whilst The Apollo is a great old-school place, The ENA
(née Nynex Arena) is a hateful place. Both venues, nowadays, actively attempt
to enforce the 'No Photography' policy with heavy-handed, bully-boy tactics,
and it spoils the atmosphere. And there, you have it, in a nutshell, my problem
with Manchester: there is always a perceptible threat of violence in the air.
It hangs around in the air like a miasma, be it the naturally aggressive nature
of the local, Manchester ‘lads’, who can incite a normally quiet, shy, retiring
individual to anger in seconds, or the hopelessly frustrating experience of
trying to dispose of rubbish, pretty much anywhere in the Piccadilly area, but
especially at the station. Don’t even get me started on the incompetence of NHS
staff in Manchester…
Go to a gig in Manchester and the audience is full of two types of people. Firstly, there are those who want to be at the gig. Then, there are the obligatory Manckers. These are the ones who don’t actually like the band, they just want to go and get drunk, start a fight, and act like asshats all night. Yeah, you get them everywhere, but there are more of them in Manchester, believe me.
Go to a gig in Manchester and the audience is full of two types of people. Firstly, there are those who want to be at the gig. Then, there are the obligatory Manckers. These are the ones who don’t actually like the band, they just want to go and get drunk, start a fight, and act like asshats all night. Yeah, you get them everywhere, but there are more of them in Manchester, believe me.
Up North, everyone associates violence and
crime with Liverpool and, yeah, it’s had its fair share of [some deserved] bad
press. It’s Toxteth this, Norris Green and Croxteth that, ooh, don’t want to go
there. No. I don’t. Then again, you won’t catch me spending much time in the
shining Manchester suburbs of Salford, Crumpsall, Burnage, Gorton, or Moss
Side, either.
Very much like with Liverpool, my Manchester trips have been for a purpose: shopping, gigs, visit Firstborn, and so on. Always in and out. I’ve never, consciously, avoided the city, but I’ve never made a point of going there just to see the sights. Perhaps it comes down to familiarity. I go to America and photograph anything and everything (subject to the local police not being overly cautious). I come to places I’ve always known and, well, come on would you, honestly, take a camera on a shopping trip to Birmingham? Not unless there was a gig involved.
So, I decided to do just that. I had arranged to meet Firstborn for lunch and either side of that, I decided I’d have a look round, take some pics, and try to become more cosy with Manchester.
Very much like with Liverpool, my Manchester trips have been for a purpose: shopping, gigs, visit Firstborn, and so on. Always in and out. I’ve never, consciously, avoided the city, but I’ve never made a point of going there just to see the sights. Perhaps it comes down to familiarity. I go to America and photograph anything and everything (subject to the local police not being overly cautious). I come to places I’ve always known and, well, come on would you, honestly, take a camera on a shopping trip to Birmingham? Not unless there was a gig involved.
So, I decided to do just that. I had arranged to meet Firstborn for lunch and either side of that, I decided I’d have a look round, take some pics, and try to become more cosy with Manchester.
It was a basic ‘Brief Walkabout’ scenario. A
couple of hours wandering and see where I end up. I knew that Manchester had
some beautiful, old buildings, of course, and it was about time I snapped some
shots of some of them. The City of Manchester itself is, undeniably, very
impressive in parts. Take a look at Victoria Station, or some of the monumental
buildings on Whitworth St and Oxford Road, or the fabulous Midland Hotel
(allegedly where Mr Rolls met Mr Royce for the first time back in 1906, and
where most of your better rock bands stay when playing in town). There are many
buildings still standing from the ‘Cottonopolis’ days and it is obvious that this
was once a city of massive wealth and influence.
That is not to say it isn’t a very
impressive modern city. Regeneration of the Northern Quarter and Piccadilly has
made some very dodgy areas very trendy and desirable. Still, it’s a big town
and there is plenty of work still to do. As with any modern metropolis, there
are also the buildings that you look at and think, ‘What were they thinking in
the 1960s?!’ Thankfully, many of those, ill-conceived, shockingly designed,
badly built, uncared-for eyesores are being razed to the ground one-by-one.
It does leave me with one question though: If the people were so proud of Britain in the post war period, looking back to the Days of Empire with rose-tinted contacts, why the hell did they knock down so many of the wonderful buildings that its gluttonous, jingoistic, self-approbation spawned? Then again, the town-planners of the post-war era were trying to be new and modern and I do respect that.
Kill the accountants, I say, they are the ones that always screw everything up! Bean counters make everyone cut corners to reduce costs, so schools are built with weak cement, tower blocks are constructed with cheap materials, payola makes people look the other way, and the slums that were built to replace tenements are now ready for demolition. Progress. All I can add to that is that, it could be worse. I’ve been to some of these ‘New Towns’ (which thankfully, are mostly down south) and I have two words for you: Milton Keynes. You want to know what we think of your new towns in The North? Go to Skelmersdale and find out!
It does leave me with one question though: If the people were so proud of Britain in the post war period, looking back to the Days of Empire with rose-tinted contacts, why the hell did they knock down so many of the wonderful buildings that its gluttonous, jingoistic, self-approbation spawned? Then again, the town-planners of the post-war era were trying to be new and modern and I do respect that.
Kill the accountants, I say, they are the ones that always screw everything up! Bean counters make everyone cut corners to reduce costs, so schools are built with weak cement, tower blocks are constructed with cheap materials, payola makes people look the other way, and the slums that were built to replace tenements are now ready for demolition. Progress. All I can add to that is that, it could be worse. I’ve been to some of these ‘New Towns’ (which thankfully, are mostly down south) and I have two words for you: Milton Keynes. You want to know what we think of your new towns in The North? Go to Skelmersdale and find out!
Unfortunately for me, my plans were foiled.
Not by the people, but by Manchester’s other well-known ‘feature’: the weather.
I headed out of Piccadilly and turned along Whitworth St, then moseyed along
Aytoun St, until I came to Portland St. I had originally planned to make more
of an effort but, this being Manchester in March, it did what it does best and
started chucking it down, about half an hour in to my mission. I made a quick
dash through Chinatown, then back up towards the Piccadilly area and shelter.
Maybe, one day, I shall come back, armed with a plan and do a proper walkabout.
I really should, even if it is only for the sake of my own website…
Ooh. Manchester Sandwich…
Mark L. Potts
The God of Thunder
26th March 2010
Ooh. Manchester Sandwich…
Mark L. Potts
The God of Thunder
26th March 2010
Update...
February 2011
Although I’m not really happy about Manchester, it is in The North and I would take it over any place down south. There are places south of Birmingham that I can tolerate, but I just get pissed off by Southerners’ prissy attitude. Maybe it was all those of being raped by clap-infested ffrenchies that has made them genetically inferior, whining, fucking maggots? Southerners, not ffrenchies... then again, not a great deal to choose…
Having recently been to Liverpool, I have to say it is a much more welcoming city than I remember in the ‘80s and ‘90s and, at this point in history, I prefer it to Manchester. They are both very fine cities with lots to offer, Liverpool is just a nicer place to be, right now.
Mark L. Potts
The God of Thunder
16th February 2011
Although I’m not really happy about Manchester, it is in The North and I would take it over any place down south. There are places south of Birmingham that I can tolerate, but I just get pissed off by Southerners’ prissy attitude. Maybe it was all those of being raped by clap-infested ffrenchies that has made them genetically inferior, whining, fucking maggots? Southerners, not ffrenchies... then again, not a great deal to choose…
Having recently been to Liverpool, I have to say it is a much more welcoming city than I remember in the ‘80s and ‘90s and, at this point in history, I prefer it to Manchester. They are both very fine cities with lots to offer, Liverpool is just a nicer place to be, right now.
Mark L. Potts
The God of Thunder
16th February 2011
