Salford, Manchester and Altrincham

Self-portrait, 2023 and 1970

Lola II and I like to go away once a year - it used to be around her birthday, but now it's pretty much whenever we can both fit it in. Although we both used to live in South Manchester (me longer than her), neither of us knew Salford very well, so that's what we chose this time. And as it turned out, Greater Manchester has changed quite a bit in the 23 years since I lived there.

Before our trip I booked Lola II the acting prison guard to help me do a bit of admin. While I manage most of my everyday admin without help, there are some unattractive types of admin where I need someone who doesn't let me wander off at a tangent into something I'd prefer to do. Lola II came up a day early to supervise, and even put a couple of items out on Freegle for me (both of which have now been taken). My aim is to rid my house of every knick-knack and unwanted item while also avoiding contributing directly to landfill. There's still quite a long way to go, but I'm trying.

Then on Friday we headed north, arriving for brunch very close to the flat where I used to live. One reason for this was because there are lots of interesting cafes offering brunch in that area, but another reason was that somehow I had accumulated a box of documents relating to my flat and I wanted to hand it over to the current residents. Being a Friday lunchtime there was nobody home, but I left it in the hallway in the hope that somebody would investigate.

Then we headed off to our Salford hotel, which was in walking distance of the Lowry arts centre. Lola II was in dire need of caffeine and we found a supplier in the main entrance area which was painted the exact same colour of purple as my coat, with details in a burgundy very similar to my hair.

Spot the Lola

After coffee for one, we proceeded to wander round the galleries of Lowry paintings - he did a lot more than just matchstick men. We'd booked tickets for a theatre performance in the evening, so we tried to find some dinner in the vicinity, but the only decent option was within the Lowry centre itself, and it was fine. The play was 'The Beekeeper of Aleppo', which was moving and sad.

We had to plan the next day around the afternoon activity we'd booked, and ended up taking the tram around town. The tram network reaches much further than in my day and turned out to be an excellent way to get around. We started with another brunch, this time in the centre of Manchester, before returning to Salford to visit the Imperial War Museum North. I would have liked to spend more time there, but we had to get back to Manchester city centre for our Silent Adventure.

We were part of a large crowd of about a hundred women and three men, and we were all given wireless headphones by the three leaders of the pack. They started by showing us a few dance moves and then proceeded to lead us around the streets of the city centre, singing and dancing as we went. We were viewed with some surprise and (I like to think) admiration by the inhabitants trying to go about their business. It was great fun, especially the mass singing of 'Wonderwall' from a raised area above people sitting outside a pub, who soon joined in. It was also good exercise - Lola II was warm enough to actually unzip three out of five of her outer layers of clothing.

A cup of tea and a sit down was called for at this point. Then another tram to Greens, which is a vegetarian restaurant where we used to go on special occasions and is round the corner from my ex-flat. I enjoyed being able to choose from the whole menu, and there were even a couple of allium-free options for Lola II. And then, another tram back to Salford and the hotel.

Next day, after the obligatory brunch, we visited H+B in Altrincham. I delivered a gift from mum, we politely refused gifts of plants in return (we both have a dire success rate with plant gifts), accepted gifts of electrical trailing sockets, and through an agonising IT process managed to buy lunch for us all. H insisted that despite all evidence to the contrary he hasn't managed to clear his basement much (he definitely has).

It was a very fine weekend and we only scratched the surface of Salford and Manchester's offerings. I'd like to go back for more, and Lola II and perhaps Mr M might be able to come too, if we can find a time when we're all free...

Manchester, April 2023

It's starting to feel like spring

Mac, April 2023

Mac the dog came to stay, just for one night. I found out afterwards that this was his first time away from his regular hosts, which may explain some of his behaviour, and I was warned in advance of a couple of things - his dislike of getting into cars, and his chewing on blankets. Sure enough it took four of us twenty minutes to tempt him into my car to get him home. When it was time to go back to the Centre I didn't bother trying to get him into the car but walked him back instead - luckily it isn't very far. He seemed very stressed and anxious most of the time, and wouldn't even come in the front door of the house without a good deal of persuasion. I was thankful for his sake as well as mine that the stay was only one night.

I am pleased to say that mum is much better now and we have started a new project to try and get a wheelchair ramp installed so dad stands a chance of getting in and out of the house. Not that he wants to... I have been on two retreats, my study group and our weekly meetings continue, as does badminton and the fortnightly pub quiz. 

UJ and I had our second welfare visit to check that everything is still OK - it's been six months since she arrived, although she's been back home in Kyiv for a significant part of that. Now that she has a job (and it took two of us to construct the office chair that her employer provided) she will probably be in the UK more of the time, since there are in-person meetings she has to attend in London. During my first retreat over the Easter Bank Holiday UJ went to see a friend in Amsterdam, and when I came back from the second weekend retreat she reported that she had met up with other Ukrainians locally, celebrated Easter with traditional cake and other foods, and been to a gig. So I'm happy that she doesn't rely on me for all her social activity, which previously was a slight concern.

And I fixed my printer (sort of)! It was reporting a paper jam when there wasn't one, and the Internet showed me what the problem was likely to be, and now it is (intermittently) fixed. I don't print very much, but it is very annoying not to be able to. I don't know how long my fix will last, but the three pages that I wanted are done.

What I've been reading

Time is the Fire: The Best of Connie Willis
by Connie Willis

"What do church choirs, alien visitors, the London Underground, time travel, the Egyptian Book of the Dead, Agatha Christie, old Hollywood stars and quantum physics have in common? These disparate things all feature in the stories collected here."

A book of her short stories - not as good as the novels, but then I wasn't expecting it to be. Still mostly good fun and very occasionally brilliant, with the usual duds that are inevitable in any collection, even a collection labelled 'best of...'

Moll Flanders
by Daniel Defoe

"Born in Newgate Prison to an incarcerated mother, Moll Flanders is compelled from earliest childhood to make her own way in the world and to live off her wit and beauty. Her desire to climb the rungs of society leads her through a tangled web of incest, adultery, prostitution, deception and theft."

This was written in 1683, which is hard to imagine - less than 20 years after the  Great Plague and Fire of London, and at the end of the reign of Charles II after the Restoration. At the time it was presented as a real autobiography, and it shines a bright light on the seedy underside of English society at the time. Because the protagonist is constantly in terror of poverty she is always trying to find a way to make a living, which is what leads her eventually to crime via many unlucky marriages. But as usual I enjoyed the insight into 17th century society more than I enjoyed the story.

Goodnight Mister Tom
by Michelle Magorian

"The gruff and surly Mr Thomas Oakley is less than pleased when he is landed with a scrawny little city boy as a guest, but because it is compulsory that each villager takes in an evacuee he reluctantly agrees."

This is really a children's book, but it appeared in my Classics list and I felt I could do with an easy read for a change, after the fairly heavy duty choices I've been making alongside the difficult books about Buddhism. And it's a good book although not easy, set as it is at the start of World War 2 and featuring an abused boy, although the author is really skilful at portraying the effects without us seeing the abuse itself. Recommended for a break after 17th century fiction.

Suite Française
by Irène Némirovsky

narrated by Carole Boyd

"In June 1940 France fell to the Nazis. The effects of this momentous event on the lives of ordinary Parisians and the inhabitants of a small rural community under occupation are brilliantly explored in this gripping and heart-breaking novel."

At the end of this audio book there's an extra section of author biography, which makes it all the more poignant as the author and her husband both died in the concentration camps. A lovely film was made of the story with a significant extra bit at the end for drama, so when the book ended without it I was disappointed at first. In fact, the book is better for the lack of drama, retaining its gentle tone throughout and giving a realistic sense of the mundane everyday life of occupation.

Sangharakshita: The Boy, the Monk, the Man
by Nagabodhi

"Sangharakshita was a Buddhist monk, a writer, a poet, and the founder of the Triratna Buddhist Order and Community – a pioneering worldwide Buddhist movement. He was also an audacious reformer, and for some a deeply controversial figure."

The final piece (I hope) of my deep immersion into the life of this man, this is a biography that was published very recently - if it had come out six months earlier it would have removed the necessity of reading those four long volumes of memoir. It fills in some of the missing detail between 1957 and 1967 and also continues up to Sangharakshita's death, and very usefully in the last couple of chapters provides some real insight into his personality, which helps to fill out my 'research project'. I've been writing it for presentation in my study group, and if it goes down well there I'll take it to the local group too.

White Noise
by Don DeLillo

"Jack is head of Hitler studies at the College-on-the-Hill. His colleague Murray runs a seminar on car crashes. DeLillo exposes our common obsessions with mortality and delineates Jack and his wife Babette's touching relationship and their biggest fear - who will die first?"

Another from the Classics list, more modern this time, and for a change there's a semblance of a story in there. The people who feature are not types I recognise, though, not in the way they speak, or behave, or relate to one another. I didn't care about the people or the story, despite the quote on the cover from the Observer suggesting he is America's greatest living writer. I'm starting to doubt that there are any living writers on the Classics list who can produce a story that engages me.

Hostess with the mostess

Waterperry Gardens, March 2023

Hello, Lola II here. Lola I declared at the start of her London visit that we should write the blog for our latest excitements and, since she writes sooo much of our adventures, I agreed that she should be given a break. So here I am.

The fun begun… The fan began… I went swimming first thing on Wednesday as the dedicated Olympic swimmer that I am. I won’t say any more about my swimming here since I’ve been invited to dedicate a post about the years that have led me to my near-Olympic achievements, so that will come another time.

Lola I arrived in Marylebone station ready for a full day of events. Along with Mr M, we had Indian chaats, starter-sized portions of Indian deliciousness. I can’t normally eat Indian food because of the allium content but chaats often just have diced onion added on top and so it can be easily removed.

Onwards to the Gielgud Theatre to see To Kill A Mockingbird. We love Harper Lee’s 1960’s book but the draw on this occasion was that it had been adapted for the stage by Aaron Sorkin, a master of the word, who wrote one of our favourite television series, The West Wing. The play did not disappoint and was entirely mesmerising from beginning to end. My eyes were certainly glued to the stage. I felt part of the performance, clearly as did those in the audience who gasped when [spoiler alert] Atticus received the call that Tom Robinson was dead.

The previous week Mr M and I had free tickets to be in the audience for a recording of the television show, QI. It was a big disappointment due to one of the panellists but we were happy to give it another go when Lola was enthusiastic about going after the theatre. What to do in the gap between cultural experiences? Cake of course. I led our happy band on an unnecessarily extended walk in the wrong direction until we finally arrived at a Swedish café I had recently experienced for market research purposes. Fact. Crucial cakes purchased, off we went to TV Centre. QI was great. We were compensated for last week’s disappointment with good guests and lots of fun.

Mr M worked on Thursday while Lola I and I played. We collected M&T’s car and then headed off to Ikea to return some items. M&T kindly allow us to use the car whenever we want and it is very handy indeed. We wandered around, with Lola I showing a surprising amount of interest in examining the kitchen-related items. Apart from the trolley having an unnatural tendency to steer left, we had all the fun of browsing exciting colourful items with almost none of the expenditure.

Friday, off we drove to Leamington. I cut Mr M’s hair and trimmed his beard until he looked gorgeous again. Random Cuts, my lockdown-prompted hairdressing service, has survived into these post-Covid times. I have a number of loyal clients, two and a half to be exact – Mr M, Lola II and Mum until she can get back to a real hairdresser (although you’ll always be welcome back, Mumsie!) BL2 & Mr MFX arrived and we created our own pizzas, along with UJ.

Saturday was my purpose for the timing of our weekend. I attended the Read Easy UK Conference with 200 attendees from 57 groups. The bottom line is that our work changes the life of adults who come to us unable to read, and leave being able to be part of the community around them. Gone is the incomprehension, isolation and disadvantage. Heart-warming stuff.

At the end of the day back home in Leamington there were (allium-free, thank you Lola) nibbles and a broccoli & cauliflower quiche with salad and one of my favourite desserts, a chocolate steamed pudding with apricots and chocolate sauce. Politeness prevented me from skipping the main course and jumping to dessert, but having it for breakfast too made up for it.

Sunday morning and the reason why we got BL2 & Mr MFX up there with us… Meccano! Dad had a set from the 1950’s and Lola has stored it for the last decade or so. The little screws and nuts and other bits’n’bobs are beautifully kept in individual gold (they’re yellow but I always remember them as GOLD) cigarette boxes. To think there was a time when people bought their cigarettes in these metal beauties and not in the cardboard packets with hideous pictures of rotting teeth on the front, warning against smoking.

We had a very happy three hours, each constructing an item of our choice. Mr MFX made a motor car, Lola a swing and I made a dentist chair in recognition of Lola’s bravery and ongoing dental exploits. The designs for these came with the Meccano set and are printed on 1950’s thin paper pamphlets that feel like they will disintegrate if you show too much enthusiasm around them. BL2 decided to go off-piste and construct a chicken of her own design. Keeping chickens herself, she was expert on how her end product would look and the only difference between her creation and the real thing was that hers had to have a third leg. With more time I feel sure she would have found a subtler way to balance the head with the bot-bot.

Lunch in the pub next door with Mr M and UJ was lovely. UJ hadn’t had a Sunday Roast before and Lola did an admirable job of preparing UJ for the eventuality of me distracting her in some way in order to steal her Yorkshire pudding. I would not have done that but I do understand the urgency with which Lola briefed her. I admit it is a risk, sitting near me during a Sunday Roast.

We then each went on our merry way after a lovely weekend. Lola was the hostess with the mostess.