the hidden side of Manchester – first published 6 April 2014

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Once Commando had set off on the Manchester Marathon I rang my friend Yas. She said she was only a few minutes away so I passed the time watching the runners setting off and checking the clever tracking app I’d downloaded. This was supposed to work with the timing chip on Commando’s race number and tell me where he was on the course. It would be a boon on our walk, letting me know when we had to start making for the finish line. It showed he’d passed the start mat so I was fairly confident it was doing its job. I wasn’t quite as confident about meeting Yas. We know each other through WLR but had never actually met, would we recognise each other in the flesh?

6 April 2014

Yas said she was at the Trafford Arch and asked where I was standing.
“By the Trafford Arch, right in front of a purple sign,” I said.
Then I spotted a small dark haired woman with a phone to her ear looking around nervously. We’d found each other. The next job was to find a toilet because, of course, I needed the loo. Eventually we found one that was open, in Yas’ gym, and we were set for the walk. Although I’ve been to Manchester a couple of times before, it’s always been for travel events so it’s been a case of train or plane in, dash to a hotel, go to the event and then home again. Once I took an early morning walk before my flight home and found the canal at Deansgate, but time wasn’t on my side and I was afraid I’d get lost and miss my plane. To say I didn’t know what to expect would be an understatement but, in my head, Manchester meant industry, buildings, city walking.

We began with a park, the GPS data from my phone tells me it was called Longford Park, just over a mile from Old Trafford on the border between Chorlton and Stretford. We strolled along a long green path, chatting about this and that. When we came to what looked like a very strange contorted tree my phone came out for the first time. Yas explained it wasn’t actually a tree but a climbing wall. It reminded me of the strange sculptures at Guell Parc in Barcelona. Google tells me it was installed in June 2011 and was built by local company Bendcrete. Maybe if I was younger I’d have give it a go, it looks like it might be fun.

We carried on through this lovely oasis of green talking about our respective weight loss journeys and Mr Bumble who was supposed to be taking part in the Brighton marathon that morning but had had to pull out due to injury, not hers I hasten to add, her husband’s. We both agreed she was one of our main inspirations going from morbidly obese to thirty marathons in a year at the age of sixty.

The park we walked through was once the grounds of Longford Hall, home of Manchester’s first multimillionaire, John Rylands. He made his money back in the 1870’s in the cotton industry and owned England’s largest textile manufacturing business. The property and the park were purchased by Stretford Council in 1908 for just £14,500. Now that’s what I call a bargain price. Sadly the hall fell into disrepair and had to be demolished in 1995 but the stables still stand. When we passed them it was time for another photo opportunity. They were lovely old red brick buildings, the roofs covered with thick moss. Yas’ camera came out too. Google tells me there are colonies of bats living inside, sadly I didn’t see any.

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Not long after this we passed another red brick building, this one square, with a dovecote and white doves fluttering about on the roof. The building was enclosed by wrought iron railings and Yas told me there is an aviary which will soon be closed because of council cuts. I wondered what would become of all the birds. Hopefully a local enthusiast will take them in because tame birds from an aviary can’t be released, they don’t know how to fend for themselves.

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The park is full of beautiful trees planted in the hey day of Longford hall. Now they are just beginning to unfurl their new leaves so everything had the lovely fresh look of spring about it. There were other signs of spring in the masses of daffodils, worthy of a Wordsworth poem, splashing the grass with colour. Of course the cameras both came out again.

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On we went through muddy lanes, alternately talking and watching our footing on the slippery mud. A few times we took wrong turns and had to double back, Yas is more used to cycling this route than walking so I guess things look different on foot. It was quite reassuring that I’m not the only one who gets a little lost from time to time though. The walking got easier when we came to a paved lane lined with tall trees. Their leaves were such a brilliant shade of green they took my breath away. The GPS data on my photo tells me this was called Hawthorn Road, although it was a while before I saw any actual hawthorn. In May this lane must be a mass of white blossom. When a couple of horses and riders came towards us I could hardly believe my eyes, this really wasn’t what I expected to see in the middle of Manchester.

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At the end of the lane we came out beside a narrow river, more of a stream. Tall trees lined the opposite bank and, in front of us a huge pylon thrust into the air. The path here was pretty muddy and more slipping and sliding meant more concentration. When we came to a stretch where the water tumbled over rocks in a kind of long weir I asked Yas the name of the stream.
“The River Mersey,” she told me.
I could hardly believe I was walking beside such a famous river even if, at this point in its course, it is really little more than a trickle.

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We walked along the river for a while, occasionally passed by runners, dog walkers and the like. At a pretty little bridge, all criss crossed spring green sides and high dark green arches, we crossed. Close behind us the horses and riders we’d seen earlier crossed too. One horse was wearing some very interesting purple ear warmers, I thought Sirona would like those if she ever owned a horse. A new concrete bridge has been built behind the pretty green one, part of the metro link system. It seems a shame to put it there somehow.

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There was a bike hire shop and a pub called Jackson’s Boat just the other side of the bridge. We thought we might stop for a coffee but the pub was closed so we carried on along some woodland trails until we came to a small stream. I wondered if this was still the Mersey but it turned out to be a small tributary called Barrow Brook. There were stepping stones to cross. Luckily they were large and square so I had no trouble getting across. Falling in might have been quite embarrassing.

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Through a gate we came to a firmer path than the woodland trail we’d been on and, before long, we were walking beside a large lake towards a building. The lake was Sale Water Park and it was teaming with wildlife, Canada Geese, ducks, swans and year old cygnets whose brown feathers have not quite gone yet. The building was Trafford Watersports Centre and Deckers Restaurant. We had to brave a large group of geese to get to it but, luckily, they weren’t in the mood for a fight.

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The water park is in the Mersey river valley between Sale and Stretford, sitting between the river and the M60 motorway on land once occupied by Sale Old Hall. Surprisingly, the lake is artificial, gravel pits created when the motorway embankment was built were flooded to create it, and the park opened in 1979. Unfortunately the Watersports Centre wasn’t open, it seemed the coffee we both wanted would have to wait. It was about quarter to eleven so I checked the tracking app and found Commando had passed the 10k timing mat at 10.06. A quick mental calculation (ok, I admit it was a slow calculation involving fingers) told me he should have passed the ten mile marker too. A little tingle of worry went through me, surely his knee hadn’t started giving him problems already? Maybe the app needed time to catch up, even if it did say it updated every thirty seconds.

On we went. A lovely old railway arch brought us to the Bridgewater Canal. Here we crossed the Mersey again and walked beside the canal. When I saw barges I was delighted. I wish we still had barges on the Navigation, along with working locks. The railway running beside the canal proves the two can coexist, even if the coming of the railway proved to be the demise of the Navigation. We walked almost a mile along the canal, stopping every so often to take photos of barges of every colour. Yas told me some of the barges are just visiting but people live on others permanently, much like the people who live on houseboats on the Itchen. I can’t help thinking it must be very cold in winter even if they do have wood burning stoves.

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When I checked the tracking app again at twenty past eleven there was still nothing for the ten mile time. Now I really was worried. Either the app wasn’t working or something bad had happened. Still, Commando had the spare mobile with him so surely, if there was a problem, he’d have called me wouldn’t he? I was beginning to wonder if the timing app was more bother than it was worth. Without it at least I’d be enjoying my walk in blissful ignorance. The end of the canal took us to an underpass that took my mind off my worries for a while. The whole underpass was lined with copies of famous works of art, from Banksy, to Dali and Van Gogh to Monet. I could have spent hours taking a picture of each one but in the end I took just one, my favourite, Starry Night. Now that’s what I call an underpass!

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The Stretford Mall was on the other side of the amazing underpass and it was open. Like many shopping malls all over the country this one has quite a few empty shops these days. I suppose it’s a sign of the times when people have so little money. At least this one hasn’t gone the way of the Bargate and East Street Centres in Southampton and it is still open. Better still the coffee shop was open too.

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As I sipped my skinny latte I checked the tracking app one more time. Now it told me Commando had crossed the half marathon timing mat about quarter of an hour before at 11.13. Oddly it still didn’t show him passing the ten mile mark, either he hadn’t crossed the mat or the blasted tracker wasn’t working. WHatever had happened it had given me an hour of worrying over nothing but at least I could relax for a while.

Once we’d finished our drinks and used the facilities we set off again. The next part of our walk took us on to the marathon course but I’ll tell you all about that later.

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