The unloved and yet lovely Arndale Centre Manchester

The unloved and yet lovely Arndale Centre Manchester

When I first lived near Manchester from 1987 to 1996, the train journey from Shaw (or drive or bus on the 58 and 59 route), revealed just three indications that Manchester was closing in: City Tower, Piccadilly; the CIS Building on Miller Street and the beige protrusion of the Arndale Centre.

I used to get off the train at Victoria, walk out across the wasteland of the NCP car park (where the National Football Museum now stands), turn right and head into Harry Hall’s in the Corn Exchange and head left into the Arndale.

Manchester attracted me back then like a moth to a flame as Shaw (though not a gawbie) was a bit dull in comparison. In fact, most Saturdays and Sundays saw me drawn there and some evenings spent in Sinclair’s in the long gone Shambles Square and Corbieres, still there, off St Ann’s Square.

Two years ago, on 23rd December 2022, I came back to Manchester.

Not to Shaw but Miles Platting, a place so rough in the 80s that it was rumoured dogs went round in twos – to find everything has changed yet remained instantly familiar and recognisable. Deansgate still stood though one way. The three towers, mentioned above, still stood. Yet the cityscape had sprouted ever upwards.

Miles Platting, Ancoats and New Islington had, for better or worse, been socially cleansed and my first reaction to coming back was “Oh my God, I’m home in a place I belong.”

You see Manchester has this “I don’t give a shit” mentality. It has tolerance and diversity running through it. It is liberal, metrosexual, cosmopolitan and exciting.

Business has done well here too as it is an economically vibrant city – I’ve designed websites for an international events company, a security business, surveyors, plant hire, solicitors, restaurants and shops – all with Manchester postcodes and wonderful people.

I’ve done well here, personally, too, reconnecting with friends I knew in the 90s and the city centre, or town to natives, still draws me in daily.

What has changed is the food and cafe scene. I have a plethora of welcoming places to work from and sip flat whites and soya lattes, with gluten free meals on tap. Me and my dog are welcomed everywhere. I love Pizza Express in Piccadilly Gardens (unfairly maligned) and House of Books and Friends on the upper part of King Street. Pot Kettle Black in Angel Gardens near Angel Meadow is a firm favourite too.

And despite the damp weather and busy nature of Manchester, despite the relentless upward growth, I feel like I’ve come home and am wrapped in its damp enveloping whole. Accepted wherever I go, met with kindness from strangers, forging new friendships with people I like and trust, and forever peering upward for the original 3 towers.

Only this week, I broke into a spontaneous dad dance in Noma Square near the CIS Building, as 8 years’ sober and almost 2 years back “home” I felt an overwhelming sense of joy.

The Arndale still stands looking sentinel over Market Street and Shudehill, as I do from the Apple Building on Oldham Road. Poetic hyperbole perhaps, but I’ve survived and thrived like this city.

First built in 1971, it survived bombings and redesigns, to become the shopping centre with the highest footfall annually, I read, in the UK. 41 million people pass through its doors each year, surpassing the soulless Trafford Centre.

It lost a community at the top (called Cromford Village) and its famed underground market, but has gained more light from a glazed roof, a food court and food market and many new entrances like the one at Exchange Square. Its beige tower still stands and, despite the opprobrium that it jars against the Salboy and Renaker new residences, I like it.

I like Market Street too with its buskers, sweetcorn vendors, cuddly toy sellers and its charity volunteers who I usually avoid. It has a packed energy to it, that is constantly busy and a reflection of Manchester – multicultural, sexually diverse and slightly bonkers.

Some say Manchester is an ugly city, a friend has likened it to looking at the back of a fridge and I can see why both descriptions stick.

And yet, when you walk past the Kimpton Refuge, the Cathedral, the Corn Exchange, the John Ryland’s Library, Kendals (as was) on Deansgate, Manchester Victoria, the Arndale, St Peter’s Square, the new and old Coop, the Express Building, Native on Ducie Street, St Mary’s the Hidden Gem, Deansgate Square and the Beetham Tower, there is beauty in the old and new.

But buildings don’t make a city – it’s the people.

And, now almost 2 years to the day, since I moved here, I’m delighted I chose to come back and rebuild and reinvent myself in a place that is better than in 1987.

Manchester, for all its faults, is mint.

If you’d like to see visual content about Manchester, I have two very active social media channels on TikTok and Instagram, with all content being public.

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