I am late posting and after Thursday’s and Friday’s exertions, this stopover in the City Arms after work seems like a while ago. It’s best pub I’ve found in Manchester city centre though — so I know that what was being served here was a fine pint.
Walking through Manchester city centre tonight it was impossible to not notice the activity around the corner of Oxford Road and Whitworth Street, with everything cordoned off by police tape and some major sweeping up under way. Turns out at lunchtime a bus took out a central reservation, for some reason (which I can quite believe involved swerving to save the life of some idiotic cyclopath of the kind who thinks his Deliveroo bag gives him the right to ignore red lights), a few people hurt but nothing serious. And the picture? Well, the pink scaffolding is impressive. Some might say there’s not been enough pink on the blog recently.
There seems some kind of irresistible compulsion to construct more and more tall buildings in Manchester city centre, pretty much regardless of other considerations. There were a number of blocks built around one end of Canal Street and finished just before all that lockdown rubbish kicked off in 2020, which still appear to be mostly empty; certainly none of the commercial spaces on the ground floor has ever been occupied. And yet the city has plenty of homeless people and families who I’m sure would be able to make good use of such accommodation. In the meantime, let’s just build some more: it keeps certain political interests happy, doesn’t it.
Back at work in Manchester for the first time since the 3rd. This is usually my first proper sight of the city on any given morning.
Just some nicely falling light, pictured on the walk to the office in Manchester. Even without looking at the time in the heading, this can be identified as an intrinsic morning shot. I know this, because of the direction I’m walking, but you know this, because that’s a milk float: they aren’t still doing the rounds when I head back home.
“Just out for a stroll, Mum. Hanging out with the lads, at the Football Museum, y’know.”
Another case of Someone Else’s Art feeding this blog. I assume this face does also belong to a real person; I wonder how models do actually feel about coming (literally) face-to-face with themselves now and again. I put her to the side of this shot because I also like the conjunction with the stuff in the restaurant window, and the pedestrian timed it well too. All seen on Grosvenor Street not far from my office on campus this lunchtime.
I reckon doing this kind of thing well takes a certain skill. Like many of us this guy’s doubtless hoping they’ll never train a robot to do his job; or replace this board with a digital version, that sucks up that little more of the world’s energy supplies.
While we’re on that topic, note for Absolut (other vodkas are available) — making bottles out of recyclable cardboard sounds neat, but isn’t glass recyclable too? Or maybe I’m missing something.
Don’t read the time from the light here. Victoria station is much improved from twenty years ago, when I first started using it, but platforms 3-6 are still mere warrens, skulking under the overhead bulk of the Arena. Dark holes in which one can wait a while to find out if they’re running your service today.
I walk past this car park every time I come into Manchester, as it lies on the route between my office and Victoria station. That it was cordoned off by the police this morning was notable enough. But as it happened, after last night’s gig we had stayed in the hotel that is built literally on top of it: which made it a little strange, wondering what had been going on below while we slept overnight. I’m not dwelling on it — all was gone again by the afternoon so it can’t have been that serious. Reportage over photographic quality today.
Being 42 