The Manchester Diaries
Somehow I have ended up trying to find myself in a city Orwell once reportedly called ‘the belly and guts of the Nation’. Now I’m from Norwich, sure I like to deny it – particularly when anyone says outright I’m from Norwich because piss off I’m not – but I was primarily formed and moulded in Norwich. A city which has for its slogan ‘A Fine City’. A city which sometimes feels like one big sprawling mass of suburbia. A city which doesn’t feel like a city at all.
But somehow I’ve found myself in Manchester with my lovely a boyfriend and a, quite frankly, beautiful flat. It’s been equal parts daunting and exciting. But what’s been the real challenge is trying to create connections and discover places and things without any real structure as to how. Before I had school and parents to guide me through that. Then I had university, Now it’s all on me.
Luckily, Manchester is a pretty exciting place to discover – whether with friends, of which I’ve made a couple since moving in, or by yourself. That’s pretty useful when you’re unemployed to be honest though. I could easily sit at home by myself all day every day and sometimes I do that. Sometimes its quite difficult to get the motivation up to do anything else. So that’s why I’m trying to ‘discover’ Manchester. To make me leave my fucking bed.
Manchester pulls off the whole ‘loft conversion’ vibe because it was doing it before it was in. Primarily because the entire city seems to be made up of old industrial buildings. It’s stark, brutal and often cold but also constantly buzzing. The city centre itself is also surprisingly walkable which makes ‘discovering’ it slightly easier on my feet.
"By no stretch of the imagination is Manchester a picturesque city. It is however, emphatically if unconventionally beautiful. In common with all things beautiful...It is fundamentally flawed. It has a compulsion to preen and show off. It is narcissistic, contrary and wayward, and yet you cannot help but love it. It is both admirable and maddening."
- From "Change and Contradiction" by Chris Lethbridge, Diverse City 1994
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Northern Quarter
My favourite place so far has to be the Northern Quarter. It’s one of those wonderful places that you can’t help but feel equal parts cool and parody-of-cool when walking around. There are points when you feel like it’s a genuinely awesome place to be and other times when its gone full London and doesn’t want to admit it to itself. The bars all have fairy lights or home brewed beer, there’s a load of graffiti and one too many overpriced ‘vintage’ shop. Having said that, if you rustle around enough there are a bunch of places you can get absolute bargains or some top quality coffee without having to endure too many beards. I now have a number of cardigans which cost me £4 and only vaguely have that musty, second-hand shop smell.
Arndale Centre
This is a less exciting place. People mention it when you say you live in Manchester and I’m not entirely sure why. It’s pretty much exactly the same as every other shopping centre in the country. A sprawling building filled with the same shops you find everywhere else. Apparently it was built in the 1970s and you can definitely tell. I’m sure it’ll come in handy but I wouldn’t pop it down as ‘worth a visit’.
Etihad Stadium
At some point this was going to happen. I started my football career with an excellent derby match between Wigan and Bolton with my second year housemates. The highlight was probably screaming for the wrong team whilst surrounded by a bunch of burly men who definitely were looking for a fight.
Then I graduated to another derby between Fulham and QPR. A much more family friendly affair but a pretty special moment given that Ollie is a life-long Fulham supporter. We lost though, so that was less good. But I did have my first Five Guys. So who’s the real winner?
Finally, I reached the lofty heights of my first Premier League match. Manchester City versus Liverpool. My first observation was that I genuinely loved the stadium. The top tier – where we were – is really sloped so you can see everything really clearly. It wasn’t too confusing to navigate and I didn’t get stuck in the security turnstiles which remains my ultimate fear – don’t ask me why.
I attended with Ollie – who works for Man City – and one of his best mates Joe – who is a Liverpool fan. As a neutral it was an absolutely top match to watch. There was a load of action (coming from a rugby fan I’d say that’s high praise) and a lot of near misses. But to be honest my favourite bit was watching
The fans
The managers
The fans are hilarious because the whole stadium is relatively well behaved apart from the sections around the home fans. You can see them spouting abuse from the other end. There are also these top moments when the referee, or more commonly a linesman, makes an ‘incorrect’ and a bunch of old men stand up and start swearing like you’ve never heard before sitting down again and staring silently into the distance, fuming. I find the whole spectacle really fascinating to watch.
Not as fun, however, as the managers. Both of them have these little boxes marked out with white lines that they’re meant to stay in. They pace around like caged lions in these boxes that are so close they could reach out and touch each other. They wave their hands about, they shout, they turn away in nerves – Klopp I’m looking at you – when penalties are being taken. Unfortunately, it didn’t graduate to a Wenger/Mourhinio style slapping session but the level of emotion was seriously enjoyable.
Overall, would 10/10 recommend a trip to Man City if you vaguely like football and want to pay the money for it.
I think next up for me is maybe some museums – apparently we’ve got a lot of them.
Over and out
- Tessa Ani
