2. Manchester

Arrived in Manchester around 1:00 pm and took a traditional black cab to Tina and Alan’s house in West Didsbury. My cabbie, Brian, was a very pleasant chap who had been brought up in London but moved to Manchester many years ago. Learning that I was from America, which probably took him about 2 seconds to discern, he told me about his experiences there. He had been to New Orleans, Las Vegas and the Grand Canyon. You certainly get a wide-ranging view of America my visiting those places. He loved driving in America because there is so much room. I told him I was scared to death to drive in England. The only time I had tried it was my last trip to Manchester when Tina needed to tend to Theo and she asked me if I could drive the rest of the way home. How no one was killed on the streets that day astounds me.

He asked if people were being nice to me so far. I wasn’t expecting any political trouble in England but then again we did pretty much hand Tony Blair a live grenade. As Brian was the first person I had talked with I assured him that the English were being very hospitable. I continued with the observation that “we” didn’t seem to have a lot of friends on the world stage at the moment. He agreed but thought that was unfair based on how wonderful the Americans he had met were. “It always comes down to politics doesn’t it?”

So, I can safely say that there is at least one person in Europe that doesn’t hate us. I doubt that will help the President’s approval rating but it made me feel good. He asked if I were here on business and I told him all about my plans to meet Bob Doe when I got back to London after the Canary Islands.

I asked Brian if cabbies in Manchester had “The Knowledge”. In London, all cabbies must study for at least 2 years and know the location of every theatre, hospital, restaurant and the quickest route from point A to point B. He said that Manchester didn’t have the strict testing as yet but that the city council was installing a program to help educate drivers on being better ambassadors. Brian pulled up in front of the house. The time had past so effortlessly. We were still in mid-conversation so we sat there for a few more minutes and wound things up. I paid the fare and gave him the remainder of the change as a tip. I still have no idea what the tipping protocol is in Europe. I think on the whole you don’t give much. Someone told me you’re just supposed to “round up”. What the Hell does that mean? Brian thanked me for the tip and the company and then reached over and shook my hand. “Pleasure to talk with you. Enjoy your stay in Manchester.”

“I will. Thanks.”
“And have fun in the Canary Islands.” He offered as he pulled away.

So far so good, although, this portion of the trip had gotten completely turned around. Originally, Tina was supposed to take Louis, the oldest boy, on a skiing holiday this coming weekend. I would spend this week with the family and take the kids to the Moscow Circus on Thursday. A few days before I left L.A. Alan calls me up and says that Tina has mixed up the dates and that she and Louis will be skiing the week that I’m in Manchester. The up side was that I was still welcomed to come and stay. I got the impression that Alan was actually looking forward to a bit of male bonding. He was going to get us tickets to go see a football match and maybe a rugby game. Plus, we’d hit a pub or two.

Alan’s mother greeted me at the door. She was watching Elli, who was home sick from school. She gave me a warm welcome and acted as if I were part of the family, even though we had never met before now. Make that two people that don’t hate us. She put on a kettle as we sat in the kitchen. Elli came down stairs when she heard me talking. She was two years older than the last time I saw her but aside from added height she looked remarkably unchanged. She wore the same smart, mischievous smile as before and still tucked her hair behind her ears in an attempt to keep it from falling in her face.

The youngest member of the household was Theo was who was in a stroller my last visit. He was very much a little boy now. He came bounding down the stairs and appeared in the doorway wearing a plastic knight’s helmet with visor and brandishing a broad sword. He screwed up his face so that his eyes almost bugged out of his head and then he let out a growl that sounded absolutely primeval. He was either channeling his Mother’s Norman ancestors or his Father’s Greek. It was hard not to laugh at so much commitment on his part.

Alan got home early and gave me the ground rules for my visit. He had a personal trainer that had him on a strict exercise and diet program. I was going to have to join him in his routine. Was I ready for a whey shake? When he realized it was lunchtime we left Elli and Louis with his mother and we walked around the corner to a small corner café. It was the same place that Tina took me for hot chocolate with the kids my first day there two years ago. Alan got a baked potato with baked beans on top and I got an English version of a ham and cheese quesadilla. Can’t get too filled up: tonight we have crunches and balance ball to do.

For the most part this was our routine during my stay. We ate lean and worked out hard. It wasn’t nearly as bad as you might think. God knows I would have just eaten fish and chips in a pub everyday if Alan hadn’t thrown down the gauntlet.

Day Two, Alan took the afternoon off. We drove into Manchester proper and had a look around, grabbed a hot lunch (It was soup day on our prescribed diet) and popped into several bookstores to try and find the book that Bob Doe had written. Unfortunately it was out of print. Instead, Alan insisted that I buy a collection of Roald Dahl’s writings about his childhood and learning to fly. As I knew nothing of the man that gave the world Willie Wonka, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and James and the Giant Peach it seemed a fair trade.

We stopped off at the Railway, a pub up the street from the house and had a pint. Look; you can’t live life without a pint once and awhile. Besides, we had eaten well all day.

I’d usually go with Alan to drop off Elli and Theo at their schools and then I’d hop a bus into town. From there I’d take a railed tram out to the Salford Quays where the Imperial War Museum (North) is located and the Lowry theatre as well. The IWM featured an exhibition of WWI paintings. Even with the availability of cameras at the time it was astonishing how many painting were made to depict the war. They also have an interactive slide show that is projected on the walls of the main exhibit hall, enveloping the audience with the sights and sounds of all phases of war. The museum’s purpose is not to glorify battle. They try to define its time and place in man’s ongoing history.

After wandering through the museum I walked across the bridge to the Lowery theatre where the Moscow Circus would be performing tomorrow night. I hoped to catch them loading in. I was excited to finally meet up with the Eskins after almost 13 years. When I inquired inside I was told that they wouldn’t be here until tomorrow. Looks like I’ll be coming back here tomorrow as well.

That night Alan and two friends of his took me to a football (soccer) game. I have no idea how all the league play is set up. There is the Premier League, which I guess, is their version of the NFL but sandwiched between Premier games they also have qualifying matches for the European Cup and maybe even the upcoming World Cup in Berlin. We drove to Bolton to watch the home team take on Marseille. It was exciting to be there. Alan and I were dietarily naughty as both of us had a “pie”, as in a steak and potato potpie. The traditional game meal is a Pie and a Pint, but as this was a European Cup match there was no alcohol served. Worries about Hooligans and all that.

The game ended in a 0-0 tie and all the guys remarked what a lousy game it was to see for my first experience. I honestly didn’t mind. I learned about the off sides rule and even Alan admitted that the dives the players took to try and draw a penalty was out of control. All and all it was a nice guys night out. Even without the beer.

After we got home Alan’s trainer, Steve, called the house and Alan invited him over for a beer. Alan said that he was a great, hard working kid that was training for the Summer Olympics in London in 2012. Steve had graduated with an accounting degree or something along those lines but he soon realized that wasn’t what he wanted to do so he quit and struck out on his own. When he arrived the three of us sat around the kitchen table and talked for a couple of hours. It was getting late so we said our goodnights and I went upstairs to go to sleep. All and all a full day.