Whatever is cooking away under the lids, I have no idea, but as with every Sunday, the general miscellany of the market on St George’s Square proves attractive. Food, trinkets, old military uniforms — nothing as useful as a pair of shoelaces though. For such things, we are forced to leave town.
Even had I not mentioned the weather conditions in the title of the post, it wouldn’t have taken much effort to figure them out. Hauled myself into Manchester for the first time in a week to be encountered by this ongoing crap. All the umbrellas that are in evidence were just a reminder that I had forgotten to bring my own, so after the 2-mile walk to the office, I then smelt like a wet dog for most of the rest of the day.
One of those which may look as if I turned it monochrome, but I really didn’t. The light hits the… well, the lights, on the main road through town very well on evenings at this time of year. The steam is an added touch — though why we need this in mid-June, just ask the British climate gods, I guess.
I have been lookig at this object for a couple of days now and remain mystified as to its exact function, or just why the present owner feels that others may be thinking, “ah yes, that’s just the kind of big blue contraption, with a wheel, that I need in my front room” and thereby be willing to buy it, for an undisclosed price. While he declares his possible frustration at this, a shadowy figure looks on and may or may not have busted the photographer at this point. So goes the latest tableau.
The automatic waving cats in the window of the local Asian food store all seemed to be raising the fist in unison this afternoon. At some point in the far future, archaeologists (if such a profession remains by then) may well dig some of these up and ponder on their use in idolatry or some other kind of religious context. But, no, they are just pointless tat, although endearing enough. Maybe the same is true of those similar cat statues dug up from Egypt or wherever. Only the original owners know…
In effect, this was the last leg of my journey home from Scotland — I had to take the hire car back then came home on the train. There’ll be plenty of shots of the local area in the next three weeks, I’m not going anywhere. You find all of this stuff fascinating, I know.
As seen from the little-used western footbridge at Victoria station. This picture features many of the same buildings as were seen last Monday — but, you know, a little closer up. And a crane. There’s always a crane.
Chester is a city that has maintained its pre-WW2 architecture better than most, and going black-and-white seems appropriate today. It also hides the anomaly that is the bright blue of the sign for bus stop S3. Yes, I was in the beer garden of the Town Crier at this point, but at least it was after noon. Just.
This is definitely liquid nitrogen (or was, until a second or two previously), as it’s going into the Air Liquide tank next to the Engineering building. All sorts of things might be going on in there, with applications for liquid nitrogen ranging from the preservation of human remains through the digging of tunnels to the making of ice cream. As uni doesn’t have a cookery department, though, it’s probably not the last one. I can’t discount the first.
Going on the gig posters that still sit, forlornly, behind a metal screen just to the right of this shot, the Retro Bar, on the corner of Sackville and Charles Streets in Manchester, closed in summer 2025. The reason? Because there are no longer any students up at this end of the campus. Whatever is being planned for the acreage of the old UMIST buildings, it has involved gradually emptying them over the last decade or so, and accumulating what must amount to real estate value of tens, perhaps even hundreds, of millions of pounds. I’m sure my employer is well aware of this.
Meanwhile — it was loud and peaceful, so Mark attests. Note the train heading over the viaduct.
