By way of introduction to this article let's start with the one of the weirdest intros I've ever had.
I was in Oldham to give a talk about architecture and development in Greater Manchester from 1945 onwards. The audience was a U3A group (the University of the Third Age, elderly folk in other words).
"Welcome everyone," the chair of group said. "Sad news first. Tom, who many of you knew, and a member for many years, has passed away. Moving on, let me introduce you to Jonathan Schofield who will talk to us today about post-war architecture."
I confess I didn’t quite know how to start: recent death and deck access flats all caught up in the same breath.
I was in Oldham to give a talk about architecture and development in Greater Manchester from 1945 onwards. The audience was a U3A group (the University of the Third Age, elderly folk in other words).
"Welcome everyone," the chair of group said. "Sad news first. Tom, who many of you knew, and a member for many years, has passed away. Moving on, let me introduce you to Jonathan Schofield who will talk to us today about post-war architecture."
I confess I didn’t quite know how to start: recent death and deck access flats all caught up in the same breath.
LS Lowry waits by the bar in Sam's Chop House “Hey Mr Jonathan, if we want to eat meat where should we go?”
Strange the requests a guide gets. A tour of charming eighteen-year-old Spaniards visiting Alty boys grammar on an exchange programme featured such a request. “There’s a lot of meat out there, lads,” I said. The leader of the trio who were posing the question said: “We’d like a steak, a true British steak,” adding the word, “meaty.” His friend said, ‘We hear British steak is very good.”
I gave them choices, Hawksmoor, Blacklock, Black Friar but they went to Sam’s Chop House because they preferred somewhere “traditional and old” and they seemed excited about sharing the bar space with a big, bronze, moody miserabilist. In other words, the seated statue of ex-regular, the late Laurence Stephen Lowry who at Sam’s Chop House is anything but a ‘matchstick man’ (see the picture above).
I get a lot of questions about good restaurant recommendations which is to be expected given dining out is one of the joys of visiting or living in a city. This was unusual as it concerned a single food type. Still, it wasn't as strange as the request I received many years ago for a recommendation for a restaurant that specialised in carrots. That remains still an unexplored restaurant opportunity within Manchester’s hospitality sector. There were vegetarian and vegan options of course but not one that specialised in carrots.
Strange the requests a guide gets. A tour of charming eighteen-year-old Spaniards visiting Alty boys grammar on an exchange programme featured such a request. “There’s a lot of meat out there, lads,” I said. The leader of the trio who were posing the question said: “We’d like a steak, a true British steak,” adding the word, “meaty.” His friend said, ‘We hear British steak is very good.”
I gave them choices, Hawksmoor, Blacklock, Black Friar but they went to Sam’s Chop House because they preferred somewhere “traditional and old” and they seemed excited about sharing the bar space with a big, bronze, moody miserabilist. In other words, the seated statue of ex-regular, the late Laurence Stephen Lowry who at Sam’s Chop House is anything but a ‘matchstick man’ (see the picture above).
I get a lot of questions about good restaurant recommendations which is to be expected given dining out is one of the joys of visiting or living in a city. This was unusual as it concerned a single food type. Still, it wasn't as strange as the request I received many years ago for a recommendation for a restaurant that specialised in carrots. That remains still an unexplored restaurant opportunity within Manchester’s hospitality sector. There were vegetarian and vegan options of course but not one that specialised in carrots.
Some of these young Spaniards are craving steak
Speaking of food stuffs, a couple of days after the steak question I was taking an Oslo-based housing association group on architectural tour. They were in Manchester and Liverpool on a ‘study visit’. In my experience study visits largely consist of a couple of morning sessions and meetings and then some tourism, shopping and finally it's “where’s the best pub?”
Northern European countries are particularly good at study visits, both civic and commercial, which retreat into inverted commas as ‘study visits’ the longer they go on.
At the end of this tour one of the guests asked me to wait with her colleagues for a moment. We’d finished at their hotel (Innside by Melia if anyone's asking). She skipped to her room and returned with a gift. Scandis have this finey custom of always bringing small gifts for the people they've arranged to meet.
The woman returned and said: “This is traditional Norwegian chocolate from Oslo.” It was branded ‘Freia’ and it was milk chocolate but as she was handing it over she read the wrapper. “Oh,” she said, “this was made in Lithuania not Norway, oh dear, ha, ha.”
The slogan of the chocolate is Et lite stykke Norge which means ‘a little piece of Norway’ but doesn't include the extra words 'sometimes, not from Norway'. Globalising and its cost cutting trips us all. Dyson vacuum cleaners - so British eh?
Northern European countries are particularly good at study visits, both civic and commercial, which retreat into inverted commas as ‘study visits’ the longer they go on.
At the end of this tour one of the guests asked me to wait with her colleagues for a moment. We’d finished at their hotel (Innside by Melia if anyone's asking). She skipped to her room and returned with a gift. Scandis have this finey custom of always bringing small gifts for the people they've arranged to meet.
The woman returned and said: “This is traditional Norwegian chocolate from Oslo.” It was branded ‘Freia’ and it was milk chocolate but as she was handing it over she read the wrapper. “Oh,” she said, “this was made in Lithuania not Norway, oh dear, ha, ha.”
The slogan of the chocolate is Et lite stykke Norge which means ‘a little piece of Norway’ but doesn't include the extra words 'sometimes, not from Norway'. Globalising and its cost cutting trips us all. Dyson vacuum cleaners - so British eh?
A Norwegian study group on a study tour
A little piece of Norway made in Lithuania
Taking so many people around reveals unexpected connections with Manchester.
Jed was a cheerful, American 'soccer' fan. His team is Minnesota United. After I’d played an Oasis song, Jed said: “The Minnesota United fans all sing Wonderwall if we win a match.” Bewildered, I asked why? He said, “We had this coach and before the players went out on to the pitch he used to sing them Wonderwall. When the team won promotion, they came over to the fans and sang Wonderwall to us so we now sing it back to them if they win. It’s become a tradition. The scarves even have Wonderwall on them.”
I said, “How strange, but from a Mancunian point of view, very lovely too."
Then something he’d said puzzled me: "You only sing it when you win?”
He said yes. I told him the phrase ‘You only sing when you’re winning’, was sung as sarcasm by UK fans to indicate the opposition fans were not true fans and didn't stick with the team through thick and thin.
I'm not sure he understood, the Americans often have a different mentality to the Brits.
Jed did understand about Oasis though. “Is it true the brothers are both real fans of Manchester City and hate Man Utd? Would they hate we sing Wonderwall as we’re Minnesota United?”
“Absolutely, they might fight you,” I laughed.
This is the link to the fans crooning like Liam, or something like that.
Jed was a cheerful, American 'soccer' fan. His team is Minnesota United. After I’d played an Oasis song, Jed said: “The Minnesota United fans all sing Wonderwall if we win a match.” Bewildered, I asked why? He said, “We had this coach and before the players went out on to the pitch he used to sing them Wonderwall. When the team won promotion, they came over to the fans and sang Wonderwall to us so we now sing it back to them if they win. It’s become a tradition. The scarves even have Wonderwall on them.”
I said, “How strange, but from a Mancunian point of view, very lovely too."
Then something he’d said puzzled me: "You only sing it when you win?”
He said yes. I told him the phrase ‘You only sing when you’re winning’, was sung as sarcasm by UK fans to indicate the opposition fans were not true fans and didn't stick with the team through thick and thin.
I'm not sure he understood, the Americans often have a different mentality to the Brits.
Jed did understand about Oasis though. “Is it true the brothers are both real fans of Manchester City and hate Man Utd? Would they hate we sing Wonderwall as we’re Minnesota United?”
“Absolutely, they might fight you,” I laughed.
This is the link to the fans crooning like Liam, or something like that.
Jed is the third from the left
Music. The passions it delivers are immeasurable. One woman from Finland declared on a music tour how she was a massive fan of Joy Division and Nick Cave. She was in Manchester for the former not the latter of course. She surprised me by declaring she’s given her son the forenames of Ian Curtis Cave. Wow. As people probably know, both have tragic histories, one with his depression and subsequent suicide and the other with the death of two children and with his addictions. The Nick Cave Desert Island Discs on Radio 4 is at times a very difficult listen.
I think all I managed was a suprised "oh".
She wasn’t with her son though. She was with her daughter. "So what's your name then?" I asked. The young woman said: "She called me Eliza Day." That is the title of an unremittingly grim Nick Cave ballad featuring Kylie Minogue. It has a haunting dark beauty that ends with the male protagonist killing the female with a rock and throwing her in a river.
The mother, Hannele I think, was happy about one thing. While on a visit to Curtis’s grave in Macclesfield she’d bumped into Stephen Morris, the drummer of Joy Division and New Order in the humdrum surroundings of an Aldi car park.
"That really made my day,” Hennele said. “Did it give you True Faith?” I quipped referencing my favourite New Order song. Eliza Day nodded her head in agreement and carried on the joke with the line: "I used to think the day would never come." You’ll have to be familiar with New Order songs to get that reference.
I think all I managed was a suprised "oh".
She wasn’t with her son though. She was with her daughter. "So what's your name then?" I asked. The young woman said: "She called me Eliza Day." That is the title of an unremittingly grim Nick Cave ballad featuring Kylie Minogue. It has a haunting dark beauty that ends with the male protagonist killing the female with a rock and throwing her in a river.
The mother, Hannele I think, was happy about one thing. While on a visit to Curtis’s grave in Macclesfield she’d bumped into Stephen Morris, the drummer of Joy Division and New Order in the humdrum surroundings of an Aldi car park.
"That really made my day,” Hennele said. “Did it give you True Faith?” I quipped referencing my favourite New Order song. Eliza Day nodded her head in agreement and carried on the joke with the line: "I used to think the day would never come." You’ll have to be familiar with New Order songs to get that reference.
The cover of the New Order single True Faith with its beautiful design by Peter Saville
One of the most remarkable and stimulating people who came on a recent Saturday music tour was Dasha. She was early thirties and from Russia although she currently lives in Spain. She had a far more comprehensive knowledge of music, British and international, than I will ever have.
We went for a drink after the tour. This often happens with guests. It’s a good way of getting to know people beyond the necessarily one way street relationship of a guide talking at people for ninety minutes or so.
Dasha was great company and had diverse interests and hobbies to say the least. She was naturally funny with superb English. Both the humour and the English would come in handy as the following evening she was off to an open-mic comedy night, not to watch, but to perform. In English.
Indeed, due to return to Spain on the Monday she stayed in Manchester for the best part of a week working remotely, won over by the city. She took part in several open-mic nights in Manchester and Liverpool and nearly in Chorley when she got on the wrong train.
Tour guiding is performance. A good tour guide entertains, a bad tour guide lectures. I use a lot of humour but people haven’t come on the tour for the humour as such, it’s a bonus. Stand-up comedy is there for one thing to make people laugh. Apparently Dasha made her audience laugh and while she had done some stand-up in Spain she’s really just started and is not a seasoned professional. You have to admire her bravery in coming to the UK and getting up in front of an audience.
I meet a lot of remarkable people on my tours and Dasha was one of them.
We went for a drink after the tour. This often happens with guests. It’s a good way of getting to know people beyond the necessarily one way street relationship of a guide talking at people for ninety minutes or so.
Dasha was great company and had diverse interests and hobbies to say the least. She was naturally funny with superb English. Both the humour and the English would come in handy as the following evening she was off to an open-mic comedy night, not to watch, but to perform. In English.
Indeed, due to return to Spain on the Monday she stayed in Manchester for the best part of a week working remotely, won over by the city. She took part in several open-mic nights in Manchester and Liverpool and nearly in Chorley when she got on the wrong train.
Tour guiding is performance. A good tour guide entertains, a bad tour guide lectures. I use a lot of humour but people haven’t come on the tour for the humour as such, it’s a bonus. Stand-up comedy is there for one thing to make people laugh. Apparently Dasha made her audience laugh and while she had done some stand-up in Spain she’s really just started and is not a seasoned professional. You have to admire her bravery in coming to the UK and getting up in front of an audience.
I meet a lot of remarkable people on my tours and Dasha was one of them.
Dasha in full flow
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