Manchester

Posted on 9th September, 2010 | Tagged:

Set out from Wocester slightly later than expected, at around 12 O'Clock, google maps told me that it would be 105 miles, but I was to take a different route (in the end I clocked 114m).

Waypoints

  • Worcester
  • Kiderminster
  • Wolverhampton (rest)
  • Stafford
  • Stoke-on-trent (rest)
  • Congleton
  • Manchester

Manchester

Taken the day after

And so, 10 hours later I checked into The Millstone pub in Manchester, I planned to stay in the Hostel ("The Hatters), and I was relieved when I found the Hostel. The lights were on and there was a young chap behind the desk who buzzed me in, I wheeled my bike in enquired about the rooms, all good, great I thought, then he asked me for my passport. I didnt have one and he wouldnt budge on the issue.

After depositing my belongings in my room at The Millstone I went forth into the night to find a curry. I found a place and while waiting a guy came in off the street sat down at the table I was on, looked me straight in the eyes and started telling me about how he needs to feed his kids. Fucker. He was dressed smartly enough and in hindsight was probably on cocaine or speed, but after first sympathising and trying to explain that I was unemployed I gave him a two pound coin and asked for a pound back, he shoved about 60 pence into my hand mumbled some thanks and then went back to pestering the curry keepers for free food. Then, the fucking genius offered me 4 pounds for my 5 pounds, I heard him hours later from my room pestering people for money.

The pace was slower than it might have been because of the trouble with riding through so many cities and having to stop at so many traffic lights (how many? count them) and also the pace may have been affected by the red wine I had drunk the night before. But perhaps the biggest reason was that I was cycling into uncharted territory in respect of distance and so was taking it easy. (Later on in the trip I became less concerned about my pace...)

Encountered a minor problem, after relieving myself on the side of the road (bike dumped horizontally on the bank) I began to notice a eerie noise eminating from the rear of my bike when running over bumps, I glanced back at my loaded rack and could see the right panier moving with more freedom then it ought to have, I stopped and saw that one side of the rack had become disattatched. This was a concern as I did not think the one remaining side would hold the weight of the other, so I rode carefully to the next town, dreading that the rack would fail me. But it didnt, and in the next town I found (eventually) a hardware store who sold me an invaluable tool, which for some reason I didnt think to purchase before setting out, an alan key - or rather a set of alan keys. With which I was able to address my problem by using one of the bottle rack bolts on the inside of the A-Frame to secure the loose rack.

It was whilst looking for the hardware store that I asked a man for directions and discovered that I was now in a land where people speak with an accent distinct from those I was accustomed to in my 100 mile circle of familiarity in the south-west. I noticed many shades of accent on my northern travels.

Spent... On
£2.05 Mars, Relentless
£3.50 Alan Keys
£2.20 2xRed Bull
£5.00 Curry
£25.00 Bed and Breakfast
£1.30 Beggar

Road into Manchester

The road into Manchester

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