No, I am not playing with words, so I do not mean gay, although gay pride plays a big role in Manchester culture. I mean surprising, funny, astonishing, unexpected, and all that in a good way.
Gothic buildings stand in reconciliation next to super-modern glass’n’ wire constructs giving the palpable feeling of human continuity in the space. People walk through the architectural centuries without even noticing, which shows exactly the extent of success.
And in this parade of centuries art has a dominant position. Street art, music, fashion, sculptures. My surprise was too big to express when I realized that the crowds in the Manchester Art Gallery were no tourists, but students, mums with babies and normal working people in their lunch break checking out the newly installed exhibition. Not that all were interesting. I mean, I could not care less about the history of buttons (the ones on my clothes). But definitely they were an escape from the daily routine and the weekly visit to consumption temples.
In less than 24 hours in Manchester I already feel that had I to stay here for ever, I would have accepted my fate quite happily. In the 12th hour of my visit I even chose the area of my potential residence, my local bar, and my favourite coffee shop. What else does one need to live happily ever after?
Well, yes, I might have some problems with the accent. But then again, my first night at Essex I had to spend a night at Stansted airport just because I misunderstood a coach driver. Now I blame it to his Suffolk accent. Back then I was not even aware of the very existence of Suffolk. I bet the Northern accent would take me less than four years to decode.
The local ales look very promising too. Joseph Holt seems to be doing a way better job than Adnams oyster ale. Yeah I think this place has won me over.
I only see one fault: Curry.
In the whole length of the curry mile I have not found a single curry house that would resemble Alishan Tandoori in Colchester or Tiffin Club in Southampton. Someone has to tell these people that concentration of Indian restaurants in one street does not necessarily mean good quality. Look at Brick Lane. You can find the best and you can find the worse. It looks like Curry Mile found only the worse.
So for now on I vote Manchester. I will only make sure to cook my own curry.
Gothic buildings stand in reconciliation next to super-modern glass’n’ wire constructs giving the palpable feeling of human continuity in the space. People walk through the architectural centuries without even noticing, which shows exactly the extent of success.
And in this parade of centuries art has a dominant position. Street art, music, fashion, sculptures. My surprise was too big to express when I realized that the crowds in the Manchester Art Gallery were no tourists, but students, mums with babies and normal working people in their lunch break checking out the newly installed exhibition. Not that all were interesting. I mean, I could not care less about the history of buttons (the ones on my clothes). But definitely they were an escape from the daily routine and the weekly visit to consumption temples.
In less than 24 hours in Manchester I already feel that had I to stay here for ever, I would have accepted my fate quite happily. In the 12th hour of my visit I even chose the area of my potential residence, my local bar, and my favourite coffee shop. What else does one need to live happily ever after?
Well, yes, I might have some problems with the accent. But then again, my first night at Essex I had to spend a night at Stansted airport just because I misunderstood a coach driver. Now I blame it to his Suffolk accent. Back then I was not even aware of the very existence of Suffolk. I bet the Northern accent would take me less than four years to decode.
The local ales look very promising too. Joseph Holt seems to be doing a way better job than Adnams oyster ale. Yeah I think this place has won me over.
I only see one fault: Curry.
In the whole length of the curry mile I have not found a single curry house that would resemble Alishan Tandoori in Colchester or Tiffin Club in Southampton. Someone has to tell these people that concentration of Indian restaurants in one street does not necessarily mean good quality. Look at Brick Lane. You can find the best and you can find the worse. It looks like Curry Mile found only the worse.
So for now on I vote Manchester. I will only make sure to cook my own curry.
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