A Walking Tour Through Manchester
Finding Etchings of My Former Selves
Have you ever been for a tour of the place you live?
I recommend it. For me, it was a wistful, introspective experience.
Last week I met up with Gordon, a walking guide, outside Central Library in Manchester. I was part of a tourist group, three from Ireland, four from New England, a student from South Korea on a stop-over before her next flight and me, from down the road, a tram ride away.
The weather was surprisingly dry and calm. Those tourists haven’t seen the real Manchester.
And they didn’t see the Manchester I was seeing. It was like a little excursion around the various versions of myself, the little scrapings I had left on the city and vice versa.
I arrived in Manchester in 1987, as a young, green behind the ears Drama student – the same year as the arch in China Town. The tourists found out that Manchester has the second largest China Town in the UK and the third largest in Europe. I stared at the arch. It frames a car park. There should be green space to compliment it, but cars have been forced out of most of the city centre, so when cars can park they are squashed into spaces. I felt anxious for anyone parked there, cars so tightly packed. My top lip began sweating at the thought of reversing in or out of the area.
And at a memory of being taken to dinner in one of the restaurants there one evening by some boys from the residential hall. I was the only girl in the party. I don’t remember why that was now. But I do remember that they gave me a signal to run and then we left the restaurant without paying. I still feel shaky from that memory. It wasn’t a thrill. It didn’t feel good at the time. I watched the young men laughing as we made it back to the student union bar. It left me feeling a bit inside-out, both then and on the tour.
Next stop – the gay village.
The mural on the side of Molly House. Gordon was obviously proud of this radical side of Manchester that celebrated the diversity of the city. A quick quiz on the people portrayed. Two drag queens, Anna Phylatic, Foo Foo Lammar, Emmeline Pankhurst, Manchester’s most famous suffragette, Quentin Crisp the writer and Alan Turing the scientist.
The guide concentrated on the story of Alan Turing. It is heartbreaking and cruel. But I was suddenly the Drama graduate, in her first job at The Palace Theatre, selling ice-creams and tickets. The Gay Village was where I went after work with my fellow ushers and box-office staff. It was licensed late-night frivolity and felt both safe and dangerous. I was unaware that I was witnessing the evolution of a space, that was just opening up, just beginning to feel brave enough to be step out of the shadows.
Foo Foo Lammar. I had not heard that name in a long time, the UK’s first millionaire drag queen. But I went to her pub as the guest of one of her dancers. It was such a weird period of my life, where I was aimless and identity-less. I was no longer the clever student, and I didn’t know how to get a job I wanted. In that moment, I was being seen and treated as the girlfriend of a dancer, but I wasn’t sure that was who I was. He had sort of adopted me, without me really knowing whether I wanted to be with him. I felt fragile. Foo Foo was both terrifying and kind. She was so assured in her own identity, and gentle with this scrap of a girl who hadn’t found her voice.
Then past the Minshull Street Crown Court – a grade II listed building in the Gothic Revival style – that I had never noticed in all my time living here.
Moving onto the Norther Quarter. This is somewhere I am aware of evolving over my time in Manchester. There used to be dirty, old buildings at the back of the city, but it is now a thriving area of small bars and restaurants, quirky venues that host open mic nights for comics, spoken word and burlesque. I found my identity and a tribe here – my fellow stand-ups.
Walking through the Printworks, I look up for the first time and see a Type Setting sign. For me it houses a bar with a back room that acts as an Improv rehearsal spot.
We make our way to the Glade of Light. This is the memorial to the 22 lives lost in the bombing at the MEN Arena Ariana Grande concert. My daughter could’ve been there. Gordon read the names of those who lost their lives. Martyn Hett. I had the pleasure of working with his mother, Figen Murray. Since her son’s death she has campaigned for Martyn’s Law, making venues safer, providing protection against people who hate fun and freedom. I bit my lip. I took in the fact that I became a mother in this city, and all the joy and fear that entails.
The tour finishes with a look at the oldest buildings in Manchester. The Old Wellington Inn (1522) and Sinclair’s Oyster Bar, moved to Shambles Square following the IRA bomb in Manchester in 1996.
That bomb was colossal and not a life was lost. The IRA wanted to destroy infrastructure, not cause fatalities. Police were warned and the area was efficiently evacuated. The new Arndale Centre looks so much better than the yellow tiled monstrosity that it replaced. What I remember is that I couldn’t get into town that day. When I could finally check that Affleck's Palace was still selling the vintage clothes I adore, the acrid smell of the fish market at the back of the Arndale covered in debris and still cordoned off, permeated the air.
Going through a walking tour of Manchester was like collecting etchings of my former selves. It was disconcerting to realise how much the place has shaped me.
About the Creator
Rachel Robbins
Writer-Performer based in the North of England. A joyous, flawed mess.
Please read my stories and enjoy. And if you can, please leave a tip. Money raised will be used towards funding a one-woman story-telling, comedy show.
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Comments (3)
Isn’t it true how much places we live shape us? My last time in Manchester was a business trip to the prison and to catch up with friends. Thanks for the memory and a thoughtful tour
I always wanted to visit the place! Thank you for the trip!
Love this, I go back and forth from Manchester now and again, I love love love going to the Queer Lit bookshop in Ancoats, one of my favourite places in the world. x This was such a lovely read !!!