Last weekend I stayed at my mother's house. I had an early flight on Monday morning, so I booked to stay at the Britannia Hotel in Manchester for Sunday night. On Sunday evening I arrived in Manchester on the bus from Burnley around 19:30. The bus between Manchester and Burnley can be bit wild at times. The journey last Sunday was quiet, until the end when someone was continually pressing bell which pissed the driver off. It turned out that an old guy near the door was accidentally pushing the bell while "his mind was away."
The hotel was close to the bus stop and was pretty fancy. My room was on the first floor and fairly small.
If I fly from Germany to Manchester, I often wait at the bus stop across from Chorlton street bus station. It always looked like an exciting area with lots of places to eat and drink, but I am always in transit, so I never get to party.
As I was walking around, I saw a woman waiting for a bus. She looked like someone who likes to go clubbing, but was a bit too old for it. A whizzened old drunk was laughing in a wasted way and looked as though he was going to piss in the street. The woman, said "no please don't"
Originally I wanted to go for a meal in China town, but for complicated reasons I ate around 17:00 at my mum's house, so I didn't feel hungrary in the evening. I often passed a sign for China town, but when I did find Manchester's China town it wasn't even close to the sign.
I went to a couple of pubs close to the Piccadilly gardens part of Manchester. Most of the pubs were like Wetherspoon like. I only drank real ale, well it was England after all. It was Sunday, so very quiet and not very exciting. The pubs were full of old broken down men, with a few young students.
I did walk down to the pubs by the canal. I sort of knew it was part of the gay village part of Manchester, but I wasn't so sure. There was a bouncer at the top of the street watching everyone
and he wasn't associated with any particular bar. I didn't fancy going into any pubs there. It was pretty clear that a bar with the name queer is probably better for gay customers. So writing a blog entry about getting chatted up in bar, because I was accidentally in there, would be a bit of stretch.
So I went back to the old men pubs with people too crippled for sex of any kind.
I ended up in the hotel bar. There were other bars in the hotel and I was ready to go to them after the bar I was in closed at 24:00, but common sense told me it was time to go to bed because I had to get up at 5:00 to catch my flight.
At the airport the next day when I was getting searched after setting the metal detector off, the guard said "you look a bit warm." I replied, "I drank a few beers last night." and he said, "drink plenty of water."
So now I know what delights are on offer close to the bus stop for the X43 bus from Manchester to Burnley