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.
I’d say ‘it’s that time of year again’ but this is the first mid-July since 2019 where there have been such scenes around campus. Ceremony does matter: it’s good to see these return.
One reason, among many, that I hardly ever drive into Manchester is the enthusiasm of its traffic wardens: this seems to particularly apply around the King Street/Booth Street area, as the driver of this car will doubtless realise when s/he returns to it and its double ticket whammy. When I saw this I recalled this story from The Register, which noted that:
One council operative, identified only as badge number MC1192, issued 5,662 of the council’s 14,887 parking tickets for the month [May 2020], raking in £69,864 with a further £155,266 allegedly outstanding on MC1192’s tickets alone by the end of the month. This workrate is the equivalent of 35 tickets issued every working hour of the month, assuming a generous 40-hour working week with no bank holidays or days off.
….and that was in lockdown. I’ll stick to public transport, thanks.
Outside Club Bloom on Abingdon Street. Clearly they feel they don’t need a “Deal or No Deal” fruit machine any more, so if you want one — or a traffic cone — help yourself. What we throw away in the modern world, though. In a SF book I once read there was a company called “Dumpmines” who made lots of cash through mining 20th- and 21st-century landfills for their valuable materials. Seems quite sensible to me, I’d invest in it.
Being 42 