A word.
Cassie, my 11 year old perfect Border Collie, is a rescue dog. We adopted her about 6 years ago from a place in Norwich and I have no idea whether she was a working dog or not; all I know is that when she sees sheep, squirrels or cats, her placid demeanour changes and she loses her head, big time.
Whether she spent a former life rounding up sheep, or counting them to get to sleep, is largely by the by. She may have spent a life shacked up in Peebles, marauding the borders but now her border is simply Miles Platting and Ancoats in Manchester, the Northern Quarter segueing into Piccadilly, the Gay Village into Castlefield.
You get the idea?
Cassie, like me, Stuart, is an urban dawg, but equally at home up Pen-y-ghent, Snowdon, Dovestones or the gritty urban towpaths meandering through Manchester on our daily 10,000 steps or longer treks at weekends.
We love the tram ride to Prestwich for fish and chips, meeting Gillian, a copywriter in the Get Pro Copy team, just last Friday:
Every Sunday, a few weeks ago, I set an unchallenging target of travelling to neighbouring urban areas to sample what various places had to offer. I say unchallenging – when really train travel has been anything but a cinch – with cancelled and late departures.
Liverpool – cool but no Manchester
First up was Liverpool, Manchester’s avowed rival, when really they have so much in common, to make this enemy status frankly laughable. Each has friendly natives, wonderful urban architecture and political leanings that tilt to the left, which I heartily approve of.
Liverpool is, in many ways, a much nicer city than Manchester, I realised a few weeks ago, when we rocked up at Lime Street, in apocalyptic weather conditions. Gale force winds, torrential rain and low temperatures meant a brisk walk through the city centre to the Albert Dock to dry off over coffee and carrot cake.
Next up was a walk to the Baltic Triangle, where I shuddered on seeing a road called Norfolk Street, a toxic county where I spent 15 years, largely undisturbed and satisfied, but ultimately bored with. Enough though of looking back – Norwich and Norfolk are now simply memories (scores 3 out of 10) and my present is here in the north west of England.
The Baltic Triangle, I thought, was unremarkable. A series of apartment blocks, a woeful community green space, and an infrastructure that seemed decades behind bougie Ancoats, near where I live.
Things looked up at the Cathedral, the Anglican gothic pile, that is dog-friendly and welcoming, like its counterpart in Manchester, with 30 minutes of snapping photos and reels for Facebook, Instagram and TikTok, whilst we both attempted to dry off.
Back then to the city centre, stumbling across a splendid vegan place, called Down the Hatch, where I spoke Franglais with a staff member, and ate a gluten free burger with aqua con gas, my usual tipple.
Liverpool One, with John Lewis, knocks spots off any shopping centre in Manchester, and I caught the train home, thinking Liverpool was a 7 out of 10.
Leeds was next
A city I last visited in 2015, when my wife had laser eye surgery on the Headrow, with me walking her back to the car bandaged and blindfolded before heading home to Scunthorpe.
Like Liverpool, Leeds had a comfortable familiarity, but it felt that the pace of change there had been faster than Liverpool’s, equally friendly but not a place I could envisage living in again. Someone described Leeds, on a LinkedIn post, as Manchester for grown ups and I like that moniker, but really who wants to grow up? The great thing though too about Leeds was meeting up for the day with Andy Plues, a photographer and perfect mate, over some snap.
The arches area of the canal basin was cool as was the dog-friendly cathedral, but Leeds city centre felt so small after Liverpool and Manchester. Equal civic pride to Liverpool, with less litter than the open tip that are Manchester streets, but I was pleased with the wander with Andy, but, glad to trundle back into Victoria and wade through the debris of street detritus to walk home.
Leeds – 6 out of 10.
Manchester is, without doubt, a bit of a dump, in comparison with Leeds and Liverpool. I’ve never seen any city – London included – with as much rubbish, smashed bottles, discarded cans and takeaways as here. Admittedly, parts of it are spotless – Spinningfields, Tony Wilson Place with HomeMcr at its core, even Piccadilly Gardens – but my walk down Oldham Road and through the Northern Quarter is hopscotch with glass and pavement pizza, most days.
But
To me, as a web designer, copywriter, social media marketer, when I left Norwich a year ago next week actually, Manchester is perfect. It has a great Metrolink system, that is dog friendly, 220 spoken languages, a brilliant musical, cultural and theatrical scene and a feeling of tolerance and friendliness that seems genetic.
Perhaps, I’m unfair to judge Liverpool and Leeds, both fine cities, cleaner urban landscapes, on 6 hours in each.
But if someone said now to me, as my one year anniversary in Manchester comes to an end, move to Leeds, Liverpool or back to Norwich, my response would be simple. Two words – “Do One”.
Manchester – 9 out of 10.
Leeds or Liverpool both don’t have the excellent Ezra & Gil, either:
It’s why Manchester, for my business, my life, my dog is the perfect city for now and the foreseeable future.
