Glory Hunter? I said…’Maybe’. (Manchester street walk). 3 May 2022

 We are currently having the outside of our house painted and the young apprentice decorator asked me what football team I supported. When I said “Manchester City”, he accused me of being a ‘glory hunter’. But you see, although I have lived in Suffolk for over 30 years, I was born and brought up in Manchester and have supported City from as long as I can remember – since my dad used to lift me over the turnstiles to get me in free at Maine Road. That’s a long time – nearly 60 years in fact.

I left Manchester to go to University when I was 18 and never went back to live there, although visits to parents (both mine and the in-laws) were regular. However, these visits normally entailed going straight to one or other of our parents’ houses and staying there; plus the odd visit to Maine Road or, in more recent times, the Etihad. We never seemed to have the time or inclination to go ‘into town’ very much.

Anyway, last weekend, while visiting the in-laws, I decided it would be good to go into Manchester to do some street photography. But I didn’t know quite what to expect.

Firstly, I was pretty sure it would have changed, perhaps unrecognisably; would I know my way around? When I lived in Manchester, I knew it like the back of my hand. I went to school on the other side of the city, which meant a 45 minute bus journey each way every day. I used to sit upstairs on the number 80 or 88 bus and look out of the windows as it wound its way through Manchester, even though this invariably meant me feeling dreadfully sick. In those days I got really travel sick and, of course, smoking was allowed on the upper deck which meant I inhaled a lot of secondary smoke. Often I would have to change buses in town, so St Peters Square, Piccadilly, Stephenson Square etc were all very familiar. I remember after one evening’s bus change, getting chased through the streets of Manchester by a bunch of United fans with my mate, Andy Connell (later of Swing Out Sister fame), after they spotted I had a City bag on my shoulder and having to take refuge in a Catholic book shop on King Street. In my teens I used to spend hours wandering around the shops looking for clothes, records, guitars and other goodies. Market Street’s and Deansgate’s shops, like Lewis’s, Forsyth’s and the underground market, were familiar haunts. Then, when I was old enough to start going into pubs (about 16 I think as landlords were much more relaxed in those days and I certainly didn’t carry ID) I got to know other areas pretty well, the Oxford Road area in particular.  The Peveril of the Peak and Britons Protection were two of our main watering holes. But all that was over 40 years ago, so I was unsure whether I would see familiar streets and landmarks. I knew there had been major redevelopment.

Secondly, what would it be like? Manchester was a nice city when I was growing up in the 60’s and early 70’s. But by the end of the 70’s things had started to become a bit run down and in need of change. My occasional visit or drive through in the 80s and 90s confirmed that – Piccadilly Gardens and Oldham Street, for example were not areas I would choose to go at night. Also, I had read news stories about the drug culture and other doom and gloom reports. So I didn’t quite know what I would encounter.

I really needn’t have worried on either count.  Firstly, I found getting around the city extremely easy and it all felt remarkably familiar……..but in a much improved way. What I discovered was a really nice, vibrant city. Very cosmopolitan, and with a continental city vibe.  Sure there are some grimy, back street areas but even these had a character and didn’t feel threatening. All the familiar, lovely old buildings were still there for me to use as landmarks - beautiful architecture reflecting the city’s industrial heritage, many sympathetically restored and ‘re-purposed’. And I’m sure its true what they say about northerners – the people were all so friendly and I saw and met some great characters.

I took the Metro to Piccadilly and my walk then took me through Piccadilly Gardens, down Oldham Street past Piccadilly Records to Ancoats. I wandered through the old mill buildings, which are now apartments, down to the canal area and was amazed by New Islington Marina. From there I headed past the glass facade of the lovely old Daily Express building and photographed the reflection of the CIS building, once the tallest building in Manchester. Then I walked down Tib Street, where we bought our first pet - a budgie called Joey…or was it Peter? This led me nicely into the Northern Quarter and Shudehill, and then past the National Football Museum (note to self – must visit). After that I arrived in Exchange Square, not surprisingly this area was the least familiar to me following the major redevelopment in the wake of the IRA bombing in 1996. Here I stopped for a while and listened to an amazing young boy busking – perhaps he’s destined to follow in a long line of great Manchester musicians and bands. I passed though St Anne’s Square, past Kay’s jewellers where I bought my wife’s engagement ring many moons ago. Then down to Deansgate, where I looked round the John Rylands Library for the first time ever. After that I headed via Spinningfields, which seemed to be hosting several hen parties, to Albert Square and St Peter’s Square. The former was a disappointment as it is completely closed off and the Town Hall is wrapped in scaffold and covering. In fact, I struggled to find Albert Square, so unrecognisable was it.  Still I’m sure it will be great when the refurbishment work is completed in 2024 if the rest of the city’s redevelopment is anything to go by. Finally I headed down to Chinatown, before returning to St Peter’s Square to pick up the Metro.

I took lots of photos, trying to capture the architecture, characters and vibrancy of the city, plus of course indulging myself in some nostalgia. Here are a few of them, roughly in the order I took them as per the walk described above.

I will certainly return soon because it feels like I have become re-acquainted with a dear old friend. ‘Glory hunter’? Maybe. But I’m also a Mancunian at heart. As they say,  ‘you can take the boy out of Manchester, but you can’t take Manchester out of the boy’.