Nearly 4 weeks out from my life in Manchester, and I think the home sickness is starting to kick in. Still, when I fall asleep, I imagine facing the window and hearing the noise of the Northern Quarter. Wake up shocked that I don’t turn right into my kitchen, go down 4 flights of stairs and turn left towards the café, right towards town. Having spent 2 years on autopilot, its turning it off is tricky when navigating a new place still feels clunky. While I cling to google maps in London, here are places I could direct you to even with my eyes closed back in Manchester.
For coffee...
Siop
After an achievement, when a zine with your by-line falls
into your mailbox or NME reply to your email, go and get a donut. Put 5 candles
in one to celebrate an anniversary of your work. Buy your Dad one when he
drives to collect you for Christmas, buy your friend one and take it to a
picnic in place of baking. When people visit, collapse there for hangover
breakfasts and sit for ours taking in a way that sounds just like ‘we should
start a podcast’, but don’t. Pace down the street to be there before they sell
out, buy bags of coffee to take the flavour with you.
Just Between Friends
In 2019, the simple coffee sign screamed glamour. Sat there
as the weather chilled, being bundled up in a coat feels like the cosiest
statement of style. I loved the recycled mugs and how they never quite sat on
their coasters. I finished reading Elizabeth Smart there, I’d meet my own
flatmate there, slowly learning that the cherry brownies are amazing and living
right opposite a café was always what I’d wanted.
In 2020, the sign turned to a statement of necessity,
something you’d see in a mirage, an oasis calling out – C O F F E E. Real
coffee, foamy milk coffee, properly brewed coffee in a cardboard cup. Coffee to
make you feel real, and even a pastry to go with it. Opening as a hatch when
everything else was shut, there was a brief period when no one else realised
and that coffee felt like supplies from the resistance. I went every day for
weeks.
Idle Hands
I have the faint idea that I went to Idle Hands before, back
in uni at 18 with a rubbish boyfriend. I got black coffee then and hated it, it
was in a much smaller place. I know for a fact I went the day I found my flat,
ate pecan pie and wrote a letter. I went Daisy there, it became our place,
working our way through the rotations of flavours, sharing with select friends,
talking about everything. I’ll always think of her there, Daisy and chocolate
cream.
For a drink...
Rose + Monkey
I first went to rose and monkey because it reminded me of
The Washington in Sheffield, and now I’m searching for its twin in London. As
though an eclectic musician inherited an old pub, I’d get either a Guinness or
an aperol, paired with pretzel pieces or a full indian feast. The place to run
to in between the various lockdowns, a guy plays guitar to himself in the
corner as friends talk in groups. Pouring a pint that Quentin had no complaints
about, it had everyone’s stamp of approval.
Night + Day
On New Years Eve 2019, I sat outside Night + Day in a beret,
drinking a gin martini and admiring my own life. I laid photobooth pictures of
myself down on the metal orange table and snapped a picture. In March, it
housed a brief reunion with Sheffield friends before I wouldn’t see them for a
year, a night out with Emmie that I remember despite its unremarkability. She
danced to kylie, I don’t think I even bought a drink. Unlike the day before my
23rd birthday, when me and Sophie bought one too many and its house
wine coarsed through my veins painfully the next day.
When the sun rolled in and they placed their benches
outside as a left over from the days we drank under umbrellas because it was all
the government would allow, I never walked home without considering stopping
for one, messaging something to say ‘you out?’
Castle Hotel
YES
You meet everyone at YES. Sometime in December 2019, I push myself into the door when the crowd reached it. With shared air only, the night is hazy to remember feeling so foreign now. But I remember meeting daisy and Jamie, them meeting Quentin, creating a group chat and a backbone for a year of only online communication. Then a year of basement cinemas and vegan chicken, two for £8 aperol spirtz, lunches after job interviews, long coming reunions, getting food because you’re there and you might as well, walking 15 minutes in the rain for a cocktail and immediately swapping to £3 beers, whiskey and Guinness in the gig room where it’s always cold. 3 or 4 floors and I don’t think I ever saw them all, too busy laughing and hoping for a seat on the terrace.
For food...
Wolf At The Door
I went to Wolf At the Door one last time, three times.
Shrugging and slipping in for a dinner out excused by a why not, adding an
extra bao to the order, still eating even as the rain fell around the fragile
gazebo, £1 tacos could out weight any doubts. Serving up some of the most fun
food I’ve ever had at a bafflingly low price, ‘serious’ baos never have quite
the same appeal as one filled with chips and curry sauce, and chased by a
pilsner.
CRBR
Marking the end of any lockdown, me and Emmie flocked for
soup. Ramen is a mystery, no matter how hard you try, homemade attempts are
never as good as restaurant quality where simplicity becomes something
intricate. The ladle spoon scooping up broth calmed my chop stick anxiety,
picking up and dropping mushrooms like Bambi, splashing soup over clothes to
ruin the sweetness of the image. The meal always had to be proceeded by a bun,
and a clear cocktail that was deadly in its crystal appearance. Making an event
out of cosiness, it’s the tastiest comfort.
Crazy Pedros
Go to Crazy Pedros at 5pm after work, say you’ll stay for
one and leave hours later, full of half price slices and happy hour cocktails.
Go on your birthday and cram as much as you can into a bottomless brunch,
switch from frozen margaritas to prosecco for effectiveness as the brain freeze
sets in, tally your slices. Go on the Friday night of pride, share a whole
pizza and nachos while maintaining your buzz with tequila. Get takeaway, opt
for monster munch on a pizza or something mental over a classic stonebaked from
down the road because sometimes more is more.
Companio
During lockdown, the Companio queue was the only one I would
tolerate. Way down the street from the door, I stood in the rain at 8am every
weekend for months, far more dedicated to my ritual than my warmth. When my
time came to go in, I abandoned my pre-conceived order as the counter seemed to
get fuller every week, eventually overflowing to the baker’s bench by February.
Letting impulse lead, centring the child that begged for treats, embracing the
romantic visions of bakeries in Disney films and art, I’d pick out what I
wanted. Coffee and almond croissants, cinnamon buns, rhubarb danishes, basque
cheesecakes, cheese and marmite rolls, honey cakes, fresh sourdough, pear and
hibiscus tarts and on and on and on. 2 or 3 each week, every Saturday, I’d eat
them in bed with a book, collecting a cappuccino elsewhere as I wandered back
to warmth.
For a moment of calm...
Manchester Art Gallery
There’s a room in Manchester Art gallery that’s full of
nudes. Walls full of Eves and Liliths and Sapphos and Marys, they’re connected
by a conversation about censorship. The conversation interests me but not as
much as the beauty and all the sad eyes. I’d take the same pictures everytime,
awestruck anew over and over.
New Islington Marina
During the brighter months of the first lockdown, I almost
felt like I was the only one in Manchester to know about the marina. I’d have
my pick of benches, stopping to enjoy my pastries in the fresh air with a book.
I watched it get busier and busier till even a patch of grass was hard to come
by in summer of 2021. But we always found somewhere, becoming a one and only
meeting spot when everything had to be outdoors. In winter, Quentin poured
whiskey into our coffees for his birthday. In autumn, me and holly toasted her
university challenge victory with canned beers. In summer, me and daisy shared
ice creams and arancini on a bench. Our lives revolved around it for a year and
a half, I’m sure others still do.
✿ ✿ ✿
