Not very original, but appropriate nonetheless as the Bee is the symbol of my home city of Manchester, birthplace of the Industrial Revolution. This post begins and ends with Bees.
The mosaic on the left can be found at the entrance of Manchester Town Hall and represents the hive of industry the city became. Not to mention the pollution and deplorable working and living conditions. Read more ›››
Not exactly the weather for camping this weekend, but then the camping I had in mind didn’t depend on clear skies. No, not ‘camp’ as in Right Said Fred dancing on a doily, but as in WordCamp UK which is where I am off too shortly for day two.
I’ve ended up there by happy accident. As a WordPress newbie, I’ve been blundering around for the last couple of months not really knowing what I was doing. Then I clicked WordCamp UK link out of idle interest and discovered it was here in Manchester, so I thought why not? Read more ›››
I’ve enjoyed watching Father and Son, the latest offering from the Manchester Tourist Board, which ended last night. In particular the opening credits, a reminder, if we needed one, of just how great Johnny Cash was.
I was listening to a radio biography of Harry Worth on the way home (ripped from the excellent BBC7) and I have to say I had forgotten how much I enjoyed his tv shows that I watched as a kid. It also shattered my illusion that he was a southern middle-class type when in fact he was born Harry Illingworth, the son of a Barnsley miner and had worked down the pit himself. Read more ›››
The demand for city-centre living doesn’t show any sign of diminishing, at least not in Manchester, as developers like Urban Splash continue to convert old buildings or throw up new ones to provide the wealthy with expensive penthouses and flats. The last figures I saw said that the population in the city centre has risen from 1,000 to going on 7,000 since 1991, and it continues to rise. Read more ›››
More of the most enduring myths about Manchester is that it always rains here. I’m not sure where this idea came from. I work in the city and it isn’t often that I have to pick up my brolly on the way out of the office. I suspect this stereotype has its roots in geography lessons at school – we learned about the history of the cotton industry in the north west and that one of the reasons it was successful was that its damp climate was suited to spinning cotton. Read more ›››
This is the third in my occasional Great Mancunians following the death of Frank “Foo Foo” Lamarr from cancer last Friday. Now Frank would not exactly be called great in the obvious sense, but he was a great institution in the city. Drag artist, nightclub owner and tireless raiser of money for good causes, Frank’s Foo Foo’s Palace Club is just
Drag artist, nightclub owner and tireless raiser of money for good causes, Frank’s Foo Foo’s Palace Club is just round the corner from where I work and his Rolls Royce with the number plate Foo 1 was regularly seen in the area. Read more ›››
Did I say an occasional series? Today I have to mention John Dalton following an article in tonight’s Manchester Evening News. It seems we have managed to misplace his body, or at least the exact spot where it was buried.
A reclusive Quaker, Dalton died in 1844 and was buried in Ardwick Cemetery which fell out of use in the 1950s. In 1963, it was turned into a playing field for Nicholls Secondary School. Dalton’s headstone was moved to Manchester Metropolitan University, but no-one knows exactly where the body was buried. Read more ›››