Tag Archives: Manchester
In the midst of life
Saturday 17 December 1983. The Science Museum basement, London Not many people – to my knowledge – had seen that basement. Apart from staff. But there wasn’t time for a good look around. There had been a bomb threat and … Continue reading
Uncle Joe’s Mint Balls. Two gold llamas. And, Chopin woz ‘ere
We went by train – 35 miles or so as the crow flies. More than an hour and a half, on a Sunday. An interesting journey, chugging past lonely chimneys, their factories long gone. Well, mostly. ‘Uncle Joe’s mint balls … Continue reading
“Fildes, – . Infant. Rode over by the cavalry.”
He was the first person to die. Knocked from his mother’s arms and trampled as the horsemen rode in, freshly-sharpened sabres slashing. It was Monday, 16 August 1819. A sunny day in Manchester. Why did a blameless young child die … Continue reading
I am not a number. Je suis humaine.
If you recognise the first part of the title as coming from ‘The Prisoner’, award yourself a silver star! But, be warned, that’s as cheerful as the mood of this post gets. Today I was planning to write something superficial … Continue reading
A spot of welding, a leopard and a mission
He’s looking worried. It was meant to be an overnight stop – but there’s no way we’ll fit everything in and reach Kalambo in time to pitch camp by daylight. We have to stay another night, but not at Thorn … Continue reading
Two dog night, no dog morning
Saturday. Under clear blue skies we set sail for Manchester. (I lie. We drive.) The hotel’s grand. Victoriana at its best. Come six o-clock we head out, past the old town hall, accessorised for fun with helter-skelter, big wheel and … Continue reading
MEMOIRS OF A HUSK 