Cheap this may be, but ths squirrel was virtually posing for the camera, if a little nervously. It was one of the few signs of life on campus today, or even in the whole of Manchester.
My penultimate day in Manchester, 2020. A year which has had fewer such days than expected. How often does the place display its appalling street drainage? I think this is a big contributor to the city’s reputation for wetness.
For the first time since the 6th March, face-to-face contact with actual University of Manchester students. And even then I should apparently not have been doing this. However, I’ve kinda stopped caring. I like this picture because it was just the shot I wanted to take when I pressed the shutter, and I got it on the first attempt. Mug, mask, maze of wires and all.
The vast MECD, or Manchester Engineering Campus Development, is pretty much finished. In embryonic form it was first depicted way back in early January 2018. It now dwarfs the old Oddfellows Hall, which it has part-swallowed, yet what you see rising here is only a small part of the whole.
Thing is — and I am very sure that, having spent hundreds of millions of pounds on this new plaything, the senior management of UoM are keenly aware of this point — is this now the whitest and most mammoth of white elephants? And what of all the blocks of new student accommodation, and hotels, and office blocks, and all the other city-centre property developments that global capital has been poured into over the last decade or so? If you think the economy’s taken a Covid hit thus far, wait for the whole global commercial property market to go tits-up. This piece of economic elastic does not have infinite tolerance. I predict we’ll be coaxed back out into our offices soon enough: if not, they’ll hear the crash on Pluto.
The fact that I am still going to campus, and intend to go two or three days a week through November, suggests that ‘lockdown’ as a concept is an even bigger con this time round than it was in March. The students in this hall have paid great sums of money and — in many cases — travelled thousands of miles to be in Manchester, but we can’t even see them from across a twenty-foot room. What do we do about it? I dunno, disobey somehow. At least the leaves are still just about hanging on.
This idea of ‘underuse’ has been a recurring theme lately — but there are obvious reasons for that, and it is going to become even more the case now that uni have decided that, after all, they would rather not teach face-to-face, ‘at least’ until the end of October. Which is, conveniently, after everyone’s arrived and paid their rent. Don’t blame me — I oppose the decision, and rather vehemently too. But it seems this opinion is now in the minority.
It’s the end of September. The golden foliage is a sign autumn is here. With it come the students — but this year, instead of being out meeting new people and enjoying themselves, largely they are walled up in high-tech prisons like the George Kenyon hall behind. Still charged £9K (plus rent) for the privilege. And the UoM is one of the better ones, presently.
This little stand of apple trees outside the Ellen Wilkinson Building on campus sees its crop go mostly to waste even in a normal year. And as it is right now, the whole campus is neglected and starting to rot away. Such a waste.
Ssshhhh…. I’m recording. It was an excuse to get onto campus, anyway. This is only the fifth Manchester picture since the 10th March, 170 days ago.
In the last 145 days, this is only the third picture in Manchester. Which considering I nominally work there, shows the impact of lockdown. But today I went into campus as is normal and occupied my office and generally hung out in the places I tend to hang out when down there. The amount of re-motivation this gave me was very noticeable. Those vested interests who want to keep us locked up, who profit from it, not only don’t need to account for this kind of thing, they strive to actively ignore it. Always ask — cui bono? Who benefits?
Being 42 