Manchester!

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And I don't mean Manchester, Massachusetts; Manchester, New Hampshire; Manchester, Connecticut; or even Manchester, Vermont. I mean the original Manchester: a city in the northeast of England.

It continues to amaze me how many distinctive accents there are in England alone. Two people who grew up an hour apart can say the same sentence in a completely different way. People here can identify a person's hometown just by hearing him/her talk. The other day in a Phonetics seminar, our lecturer played a recording of a woman reading a passage. Within less than half a minute, the whole class agreed "Liverpool." It's really incredible.

Getting a feel for the different northern accents means that I was able to recognize the Manchester one (which of course is completely different from the Newcastle one) and mostly understand it. Someday when I'm closer to being a linguist than I am now, I'll be able to describe it.

Anyway. A disadvantage of booking train tickets months in advance is that there is no guarantee – especially in Britain – that I’ll end up traveling on a day that isn’t pouring rain.



But everyone who recommended the Manchester Christmas Market was right.



Street after street of quaint wooden stalls with all different kinds of crafts, jewelry, artwork, German sausage, Dutch pancakes, mulled wine and of course a souvenir stand here and there.





I was waiting at an unattended craft stand, when two girls mistook me for the seller and asked me something. Of course they became embarrassed when I told them I wasn’t - who hasn't done that at some point? But after I said I didn’t know where the seller was, one girl turned to the other and said “listen to her accent!” She then turned to me and said “We’ll just… come back then.” And they left.

I’m sure, if we were in the US and the roles were reversed, I would have said and done something very similar. Which is partially why that was funny. Not UK/US Mix-Up of the Week funny, but still.

I looked into the Manchester Cathedral for a few minutes. It looked like they were setting up for a concert of some kind (not a classical concert, from the looks of it, but the kind with stage lights and amps and speakers...not something I would expect in a cathedral), so the inside was very sectioned off. Most of my pictures are of the little side chapels rather than the main sanctuary.





Still very pretty.





And this was across the street from my hostel.

Back in Boston now. The flight was about as uneventful as overseas flights can be (only 3 crying children and one grumpy woman near me), and mostly I'm just grateful it was a day flight and not another red eye.

Filling out customs forms is always entertaining. I understand why they have to ask, but I love the check yes/no for carrying more than $10,000 in money or an "equivalent". Because if I had 10 grand in gold to just take with me on a plane, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be sitting in coach.

Also the no fruit or veggies rule, which means a good portion of the passengers are frantically eating their apples and tangerines in the last 30 minutes of the flight.

Landing in Logan is always unnerving, because the airport is right on the water, and since we always seem to approach from the east, it always looks like we're going to land in the Atlantic. You sit there watching the waves get closer and closer, until you can practically see your reflection in them, and just as you're thinking to reach for that flotation device they're always talking about, suddenly land appears at the last possible second and the plane touches down.

It's like Boston is going 'PSYCHE! HA HA. Welcome to New England!"

Merry Christmas everyone! Have a great holiday if I don't see you, and Happy New Year!

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Comments

[alex m]

Northern Quarter
aw, you stayed at Hilton Chambers, i used to live in a flat round the corner from there. I miss Manchester! (sorry i'm rather late reading your blog!!)

[Julia Jones]

Enjoy your next vacations to Manchester