A tale of two cities

Manchester and Liverpool, and thanks to Mrs Kate for the title who actually borrowed it from a certain distinguished gentleman who published the first installment of his tale nearly 150 years ago to the day (according to Wikipedia Charles Dickens published the first installment of 'A tale of two cities' on 3oth April 1859).

My tale is actually about the intervening time spent since my last post, starting with an outing to Liverpool which in doing, we achieved a few 'firsts'.

Liverpool

We spent the day with Karen and Diana in Liverpool; we got there on the train, rubbing shoulders with racegoers and the general public. General public didn't seem bothered by us even when I knocked over a cup of discarded chocolate that general public had left behind on the table; fortunately Mrs Kate had a sufficient handful of tissues to prevent it becoming a full-out drama.

We took in a few sights with Diana acting as our native guide; passing St Georges Hall, the mouth of the Mersey Tunnel and some place called the Cavern which appeared to be quite popular with the tourists, especially a statue of some guy next to a wall made of bricks with the names of various pop groups on. We had brunch at Cafe Rouge in the Metro which gave the waiters and waitresses something to talk about; they were nice enough but it was so obvious we were the centre of their 'tongue wagging' attention.

We decided to see what 'Liverpool 1' was all about; bit of a concrete monstrosity in my opinion; it will look better once it has some greenery growing over it but until then I'm certain HRH Charles might have something to say about it. We mooched in a couple of the shops and eventually found ourselves in Debenhams; it was here that rather disappointingly we became targets of bigotry that so often we hear of other girls experiencing in some establishments - 'though rarely occurring by today's standards. Karen picked up a lovely dress, perfect for the dancing planned for the following evening; and she went to changing rooms to try it on. Before she could ask the assistant if it was ok, her path was blocked by a security guard who just point blank said she would have to try it on in the gents changing room. Clearly their training hasn't got to 'T' in the diversity manual; which was further confirmed when the security guard did his best attempt at being friendly and waving us off with 'ya right lad' (best said with scouse accent) as we left in disgust.

The security guard had no idea of what it might mean to do his thing within a diverse society, he said he was simply acting on orders from is control room; clearly they had been watching us on their CCTV system from the moment we entered the store and had been 'strategically' prepared should one of us approach the changing rooms (and it's worth noting here that the changing rooms are not marked in any gender-specific way). The episode did kind of put a damper on the mood and left us feeling that every security operative in L1 was watching us as left the area. So we went down to the Pier Head to see what all the fuss has been about with the new canal extension and all.

And Pier Head.... yet more carbuncleness; I feel they've ruined what was once a most impressive waterfront, a scene painted by the greatest of artists; a great big concrete box has been planted right in front of the majestic Royal Liver and Cunard buildings. The canal seems pretty impressive though, but even that has replaced a lovely green space by yet more concrete. Perhaps it will improve with age.

So feeling rather disappointed we headed back into town and to 'The Lisbon' for a drink. The Lisbon is a bar that appears to cater for pink and purple pound, is an old building that as likely was constructed by the city's fore-fathers at a time of affluence and is full of character - you only have to see all the wood carvings and plaster mouldings that decorate the interior to tell that it was once frequented by the well-healed but sadly is starting to 'fray at the edges'. From here we ambled back to catch the mid-afternoon train, back past St Georges Hall and to Lime St Station.

Manchester

The tale of Manchester is mostly about the 'Strictly Dancing' event on the Saturday evening which went as much as the previous event I posted about earlier in the year. It was held at the Shanghi Restaurant and as before it was a bit of a laugh but to be honest, I didn't particularly enjoy it as much as I perhaps should. I put that down to having to learn something through instruction which requires concentration which I get more than my fair share of when I'm at work and sadly, trying to remember dance steps is a bit like having to do work. When I go out and be sociable I don't really want to have to do any thinking and remembering.

But with regards to shopping in Manchester compared to shopping in Liverpool, both Diana and Karen couldn't have been treated so further from the experience in Debenhams Liverpool, when they went to House of Fraser in Manchester city centre. The assistants were coming to them and asking them if they needed help and encouraging them to try any number of outfits in the changing rooms.

Walking the dog

I've discovered that our spotty-dog machine has been telling me porkies; now I know why it was going cheap on the telly-shopping channel.

It seems that some technician in a far-away land got all confused between miles and kilometres when he programmed the counter on the cross-trainer. So instead of registering the industry agreed circa of 100 calories per mile, it's only registering about about 58 which coincidentally just happens to work out to be about what the average person burns off per kilometre at a brisk walking pace. Also it seems that in 2006, these cross-trainers were recalled in the States, but ours wasn't supplied with the offending parts that apparently can break off if you try breaking into a (un)healthy sprint.

So as a result, tonight's figures look like this :-

Duration: a little over an hour
Calories burned off: 440.2
Distance covered: 4.7 miles

Total distance covered since New Year: not quite enough to get to Southport and back.

Forward look
Karen is coming down again next week; it will be great to see her. Di has invited me to join her and Karen with some outline plan to go to Liverpool for the day - I don't want to risk driving there and the thought of the train is a little daunting to say the least. Decisions, decisions..... I can't make my mind up about which would be the lesser of two evils; if I go by train I should at least have the benefit of being eligible to receive the tranny-by-train merit badge!

Bizaare in the least

I got my night out (at last) - it was either that or go stir crazy; we had a nice meal and nice company in Velvet with Di who had recently escaped her temporary offline status, and from there we went on to Manchester Concorde. It was here that the 'bizaare' happened; the place was full of girls - not that there was anything really special on (no insult to Lisa and Zara from Transfixed!), but it was like many of the girls in and around Manchester all decided at the last minute to come out for the evening.

And many of the especial girls too, such as Kay, Jane, Becky and even June and Penny who on the spur of the moment, travelled all the way from Ireland. Ok so we were missing some of the other regulars, but it was indeed a really nice surprise to see so many familiar and friendly faces; it made me feel all warm inside.

Then we went to Naps.... don't ask! - except to say music was better but I can't say the same for the 'visiting' clientele who (still) persist in taking over the dance floor.... keep off the funny tasting smarties boys; sad-o's.

Please Miss, can I have some more?

I guess I'm more fortunate than some girls in that I have an understanding wife, partner and friend, and an opportunity to be out at least once every week - at least that would be the case if neither of us had been taking turns to suffer colds and other dreaded Winter nasties and of course, we can't have a downer without mentioning the financial doom and gloom. And I really miss my outings ... having the opportunity to do a bit of girlie dancing at Naps - assuming it isn't crap when we get a visit (mental note: ask Naps to get their act together for us girls).

So in the intervening time :-

• I've made the effort to get in some workout time on our 'spotty-dog' machine;
• Had a medical which told me my bad cholesterol is up a little and I'm the wrong shape for my height;
• I quickly managed to feign surprise and shock at my medical results;
• I keep hoping for an outing - amongst other things!

What's a 'spotty-dog' machine?

It's the pet name I give our cross-trainer since exercising with it makes you swing your legs like the way spotty dog walked in that ancient kids TV program 'The Wooden Tops' - spotty dog was the biggest spottiest dog you might ever see!

This evening I set a record for the spotty-dog machine, burning off the calories at a rate of 250 per hour; that's what the readout reckons, I've no idea if that's good or bad but what I do know is I worked hard to get that result.

So that should be worth an outing this week shouldn't it? - so Mrs Kate, please can I have some more (outings) ?

Note on the financial doom and gloom: the 'Sales' are not as good this year; the shops peaked too early in the run up to Christmas. Having said that tho', got a couple of bargains from my favourite, nearly famous fashion designer, Rachel Roman

Expensive barbie

Not so much a small doll with an impossibly thin figure, but a meal with food brought to you on a large skewer.

Saturday following Karens visit was Bev's 'Ladies who dine' evening; for the experience, we ate at the Brazilian restaurant. There were about 16 of us which most notably included 3 (real) girls from the salon Lisa usually frequents - it was their first time out to the Village, and especially a first time out with a group of T-girls.

But what makes a Brazilian restaurant so special? ... well, they bring you different portions of meat - chicken, beef, lamb, ribs, sausage .... each on a large skewer the size of a sword. The routine is you select your own salad etc. and then in succession, they bring each of the offerings to you. But that's all you get.... no starters or desert... don't get me wrong, it was 'OK'... but I did feel it was rather expensive for nothing more than a barbecue... £18.95 + a service charge... and any drinks you might have had on top.... since we were on non-alcoholic drinks, our modest contribution to the bill came to about £60.

The restaurant was also quite busy and the staff made mistakes with the bill - (accounted for more people than were in our group, added drinks we didn't have).... looking on the bright side, now we know what a Brazilian restaurant is like.... but would we go back .... hmmmm! ... never say 'never', but a likely 'NOT'.

From here we went on to Naps ... mostly in the hope it could improve (music and some of the clientele of recent hasn't been that great)... but alas not the case. Gonks prating about on the dance floor with beer cans in their hand; bouncers going after them for entering the staff-only areas (but completely being unable to identify them or deal with the 'drinks on the dance floor')... there was just an atmosphere in the air; one guy even thought he 'knew me', trying it on before I even got my coat off. We left quite early, probably about 12:30 - it was rubbish.!

Addendum to Karens visit
Oh... while I think about it!... I forgot to mention that during Karens visit, as we were walking back to the Village we passed one of my work colleagues in the street; as I expected, he didn't recognise me... but it was strangest feeling to (a) not to be noticed (b) be in the presence of someone I occasionally talk to back at the office as 'Bob'!

A lot to mention

It's been the best part of 2 weeks since Karen came to visit, combination of work and a nasty cold has prevented me from getting around to posting a bit about it all. As usual, the details fade a little into vague but happy memories....

Karen stayed for a few days this time, giving myself and Mrs Kate the opportunity to spend a couple of days with her.

Day 1
Karen had said she wanted to try out the train; living where we do gave her the perfect opportunity for a journey that was not too long and at a time that would avoid the commuter rush..... not something I would contemplate but give her due, she did it!

I collected her from the station and we went to the Trafford Centre to spend the day with Mrs Kate doing a bit of shopping. From my perspective, this was my second time to the centre dressed, but this time I was a lot more confident; it was also fairly quiet in the centre since the kids were in school and possibly others had been put off by the threat of snow that was affecting most of the country except Manchester.

BTW - Mrs Kate traveled separately in her car; we had agreed meet her in the coffee shop in the main entrance.

Needless to say we had a brilliant time, lunch in a cafe, several hours of browsing the shops - but not as many bargains as we had hoped since most of the sales had ended early owing to the pre-Christmas credit wobblies. Late afternoon I took Karen back to the Village and after dropping her off I realised that I would need to get some fuel for the car since it was likely I would need some for the return journey later on. Since I would hardly have the opportunity to do it as 'Bob' I thought I better find a filling station that wasn't so near to home.... but how would I cope?.... all the confidence obtained from being in the Trafford Centre was still giving me a high so I thought 'what the h...' and pulled in the first one I saw before I reaching the motorway out of Manchester.

So I did what I normally did, filled the car with super unleaded and then went to pay along with everyone else; business folk in their 'power suits', builders in their reflective jackets, factory workers... about 6 or 7 different folk in the queue; OK so I got a couple of second glances but no one gave me any hassle - even when I paid with Bobs credit card!

That evening we returned to the Village and the three of us had a lovely meal in Velvet; followed by a drink in the upstairs bar which was just right for a change - not crowded, good music and not too loud. I was feeling quite tired and we left quite early... for us that is... home by just after midnight.

Day 2
On the Wednesday, we did the Manchester Gallery - which wasn't too bad and we even managed to avoid the kids on a school trip!. There were a number of artsy pieces including the new Antony Gormley 'Filter' only installed the week before; the most coincidental/bizarre was an animated exhibit that a little old lady was taking quite an interest in. When we came across her, she asking one of the gallery staff why it wasn't working; the member of staff said they had been having some problems with it but all the same he turned it on, and the exhibit duly came to life. It transpired that the little old lady was the mother of the artist that created the exhibit.

Well, there's only so much culture one can take, and after viewing the various modern sculptures, buttons and pictures, we went for a sandwich and some shopping in the Arndale Centre. It's been quite a while since Mrs Kate and I had been in the centre of Manchester shopping, it's probably been as much as 15 years since our last visit!. So Karen was our guide for a change, and she directed us to an interesting shop that had a few bargains in; particularly some shiny purple leggings in my size!.

A top in Evans .... yes!... Evans!... and I thought that shop was home of the boring styles for the larger ladies... how wrong was I. The top and the purple shiny leggings were just ideal for our evening activities - we met up with a number of girls in Eden (Lisa, Emma, to name just a few). From there it was onto Concorde and Naps (where else!). But again, I was feeling a little tired and we made it as far as 2am this time... turned out that all this feeling tired from the days activities was the precursor for a nasty hold!

But as always, throughout, Karen was brilliant, always the lady that she is - and the thing she enjoyed the most? - it was that short journey by train!.

Normal service is resumed

The internet pixie couldn't fix Mrs Kates blog so she has started a new one at http://mrskatesmusings2.blogspot.com/

The old one still exists, Mrs Kate just can't access it anymore since she asked Blogger to reset her password, sending the change notice to her email account.

Unfortunately Mrs Kate has forgotten her password to that too and in pressing the 'forgotten password?' link too many times got herself permanently locked out.