T’ hell of the North.

On the sixth day God created MANchester. Or so it says outside Affleck’s. Gospel honest truth is that within 3 days the wife and I had seen & experienced enough to create a favorable impression of this industrious powerhouse. The overwhelming memory of MCR is of a ‘work in progress’ which is symbolised by the razor sharp Beetham Tower, construction on St Peter’s Square and the worker bees on bins.

Greeted by warm sunshine and a lunchtime queue outside Greggs on arrival at Piccadilly station we hopped-skipped-jumped across the canal onto Princess St. Onwards into the citeh.

As a mediocre A-level historian, I was taken by the potency of people power during the Peterloo Massacre so purposefully strode in that direction to tip my hat to that political and civic landmark. Accordingly, I was pleased to see that ideas like the following outside the Friends Meeting House in Mount Street:

“While austerity measures in Britain continue to hit the poorest families hardest, a wealthy elite has seen their incomes spiral upwards.”

That from radical activists and agitators Oxfam.

I’d also acknowledge the array of ales, beers and beverages that Sarah had watch me rattle through whilst cheerily nursing a cherry beer. Particularly notable was the Northern Monk and Yeastie Boys effort ‘It’s A Trap’ billed as a Belgian IPA via Leeds and New Zealand, dutifully served at the Port Street Beer House. Can’t wait to get back to the PSBH and indeed Manchester.

http://www.portstreetbeerhouse.co.uk/