I’m sure it’s up to something useful. One of those shots which, I am very aware, would have benefited from better symmetry, but there’s only so much preparatory work one can do while stood in the middle of a street.
Spent the whole day entertaining some visitors from Norway, so they should feature on the daily post. Johannes ponders his beer, Anita brings more, and Catherine seems happy that her luggage — thought lost in the system — has been found. They and their colleagues reminded me that Norway is a place I have not been to lately, despite it remaining the third-most featured country on this blog (after England and Australia); its last appearance was 26th April 2018, as I departed Tromsø airport for the last time (so far). If I made a good impression today, perhaps I will get an invite back…
We have yet to put our clocks back, and so the level of darkness in Manchester this Friday morning is somewhat boosted by the extra hour, but even after this weekend things will catch up soon enough and this will be a common enough sight for me in the run up to Christmas. For now, Halloween tat is in charge. The spectral yellow blobs to centre right may or may not be evidence of spiritual involvement.
I recall a time when I imposed a block on further pictures of building sites in Manchester, but needs must. The Town Hall is still undergoing its years-long renovation — first pictured back in January 2018, for heaven’s sake. On this picture, no endorsement is intended: other weather defence options are available. I presume.
I know this photo is technically dubious though I do quite like the way they arrange themselves on it. It’s chosen more to symbolise the fact that, including today, there will be eight Tuesdays between now and Christmas where I will be obliged to be in Manchester at around this time, facing 9am teaching duties. For now, it’s still light, even when I get up, but that won’t be the case for long.
Today was a pleasant, sunny morning, all the way in to the final stretch of the walk to campus, when suddenly everything became covered in a light and melancholy mist. It didn’t last long, but at least gave the locality a bit of atmosphere.
I would not normally go into Manchester as late as this, particularly not on a Friday. But my employers said in order to get my new hardware, hard-wired, I needed to pay homage at the Desk of Service. In person. So be it — I ultimately cared as little as the owner of these legs.
Hey ho, it’s September already, so I suppose I’d better go into Manchester, for the first time in four weeks. I guess the health of the city centre retail has held up there better than some other places I’ve been lately, but the huge Debenhams department store on Market Street hasn’t made it, the shutters closed and graffitied, the windows gathering dust.
An estate agent might still describe this a “Manchester city centre apartment, including private balcony, with intimate views of the River Medlock below”. The reality is that this building has been swathed in scaffolding for months now (certainly since at least early February, as this pic proves), and the Medlock is a litter-speckled concrete drainage channel at this point. I doubt those stairs have much purpose in existence, either.
The underbelly of the Mancunian Way isn’t the most glamorous spot in the city, but somehow this combination of graffiti and beer bottles looks relaxing.
Being 42 