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Published: August 22nd 2022
40 years ago is very topical this week. The UK is in a mini meltdown and inflation has reached double digits for the first time since 1982! TFB has disappeared on another holiday to avoid the inconvenience of the removal men calling - Greece this time. Dilyn the Downing Street Dog and Larry the Cat are no doubt breathing a huge sigh of relief. Meanwhile, the Great Pretenders are jostling for the top job in a race to the bottom - a race full of petty squabbles and insults - and apparently no credible solutions. Tuesday, so it must be Perth - who shall we insult today? The press have the one branded Poundshop Margaret down as the winner by 4 lengths. All of which ironically brings me back four decades. As comparisons are made between the the 10% inflation of 1982 and 2022, this afternoon I find myself making my own comparisons of the two years.
I am treading the highways and byeways of the Manchester suburb of Fallowfield. In the words of Tracy Thorn, the dawn of the 1980s saw me envisage that this place was "going to be my gateway from my little world to the real
world". And so it proved. The dreams were big and bold and with the confidence of youth, neverending. I wasn't the first, nor will I be the last to fill in a University admissions form based on the prospect of a decent social life. Where did I fancy spending 3 years? Sheffield, Manchester, Nottingham and Birmingham all seemed to fit the bill. A multitude of pubs, a thriving music scene, football clubs within easy reach and all big enough to offer 3 years' worth of entertainment. Who wanted to bunker down for 3 years of torture on a self contained campus in the middle of nowhere? The course on offer was incidental, which was definitely an error in hindsight - but still a decent trade in my mind. My original plan was definitely Sheffield but a trip to see Big Sister, already installed in Cottonopolis, saw Manchester installed as the "family" choice for further education. The niece and nephew would later blow that one out of the water by not following tradition and choosing to mingle with the green welly brigade in Exeter.
After the usual slow and torturous journey across the Peak District, we trundled through Stockport towards
White Swan, Fallowfield
.... now the Ladybarn Social Club South Manchester. I was once based out of a regional office in Stockport, which at the time (and now) seemed randomly selected to be convenient for the boss's palatial property spread than anything else. The only good thoughts I usually have about the town are reserved for The Pineapple and a pint of Robinson's hand pulled bitter. Robinson's bitter brings me neatly to the first port of call - the old White Swan, tucked away in the backstreets off Mauldeth Road. As students at the turn of 1980, this was still very much a "locals pub" - but one in which we were generally welcomed, as long as we knew where to draw a line. I developed a taste for Robinsons - there was enough practice devoted to the subject - and I was always fascinated by the unusual beer pumps that adorned the bar. We mainly sat in the front room on the right hand side. I can still see the old black 'n' white photograph of the White Swan bus trip to Blackpool (or similar) in the 1950s, that used to hang in that room. The building looked familiar, but the White Swan is no more. It was
good to see however, it retains a central place in the community as the Ladybarn Social Club. Robinsons by all accounts is still served at the Manchester CAMRA Club of the Year 2022. My sort of place. It always was! It didn't open until 7 pm, so an opportunity to sneak in for a quick look around was out of the question. We headed through the backstreets up to Moseley Road and Wilmslow Road and parked up on Cawdor Road. The streets were quiet, but given that 95% of the adjacent streets are student houses there are unlikely to be many full time residents here at this time of year. The only signs of life were workmen doing property renovations in advance of the new arrivals towards the end of September.
For 3 years, the centre of my universe was just across the road from where we parked. Oak House. The self contained flats threw together 8 students in accommodation that today resembles a group of cell blocks. Today, student accommodation is all about ensuite luxury. Oak House had none of that and looked remarkably unchanged. I peered into my old room, well as much as you could through
the streaks on the windows. The bare breeze block internal walls waited their next occupant to cover them with a range of posters. A University employee readying the place for the new term smiled, as I peered inside. "Reminiscing?", she queried, "or checking it out for the kids?" I recreated our last flat photo from 1983 - the people were missing from the shot (indeed one was missing in action on the original), but the location was pretty much the same. Colin, Matthew, Bog, Mountain, Wimp and Dolphin - I hope you are all doing OK, wherever you are. The advantage of Oak House in the early 1980s is the probably the same advantage as today - it is cheap. A low rent adds to the social budget. During the COVID lockdowns, the Fallowfield accommodation hit the national press for the illegal gatherings. It was reported as "Owens Park", but really the misdemeanors were happening in Oak House. Party central in my day and still party central today, it seems. I looked around for other changes. There were a few more fences - a relic from the accommodation being used as an athlete's village in the Manchester Commonwealth Games. The
Oak House Bar now runs under the title of "Squirrels" and the shop seemed to have gone.
In the days before satnav, there was always a handy landmark in M14. The Owens Park complex - a modern block dating from 1966. Big Sister lived there for a while. It is anchored by an 61 metre, 18 storey tower. University accommodation in the sky. I used to know people who lived on the 17th and 18th floors. Let us just say, it was a strange environment. I had read the Tower was set to be demolished, but there it was - still standing tall. Oak House was self catering. Owens Park had a meal plan for which tickets were issued on a termly basis. I knew quite a few residents who were away every weekend - missing home or visiting the girl from at Leeds Uni - so I became a regular at the weekend dining. Every penny counted - don't turn down what was effectively a free feed! The big event at Owens Park was always Friday - the institution that was the OP Bop. The correct title was always the Owens Park Big Old Party, but became just
the Bop. Everyone went or so it seemed, although perhaps not all in their high powered city jobs are prepared to admit it now. The drinks might have changed over the years - we were the pre-shots generation - but the theme was the same .... drink as much as you could and see who you could get off with! I actually went to the Bop before I had landed in M14. On a visit to see Big Sister, I crashed and burned trying to charm some fresher. "If you get asked which course you are on, tell 'em Town & Country Planning. Small course. You'll be really unlucky if you get talking to anybody on it". Guess what? I was really unlucky. The Bop itself crashed and burned in 2009 apparently. In a bid to clean up the image of Fallowfield, it moved away towards a venue near the University and 30 odd years of history rapidly nosedived into oblivion. Why would anybody think it would work away from Owens Park?
I wandered across the Wilmslow Road to see what, if anything, remained familiar. The road is now constricted by a cycle lane and a series of bus
shelters big enough to be classified as a small village in its own right. It begged the question why students don't seem inclined to walk down to the main University buildings? A swift 25 minutes gives you more drinking funds. All those years getting a lift to school is habit forming I guess. The Med Bar is long gone. The owner of the "go to" fast food outlet probably retired to live in a million pound villa in Cyprus, after a proud history keeping student bellies full. Nino Milano is still cutting hair - since 1969, it proudly boasts. I never had a better "wedge". The Sandpiper ... once posh bar and members only nightclub frequented by footballers .... scene of my 21st birthday, had become an Indian restaurant. As if there aren't enough down the road in Rusholme? It was good to see the Friendship Inn still going strong like an old friend should. And still serving Hydes "Anvil" Ales. The Fallowfield had made way for a historic venue ... the first drive thru Ronnie Macs in the UK opened there in 1986. The old Fallowfield Railway Station closed well before I ever arrived, but was now a gigantic
Sainsburys. No need to carry heavy bags from Asda in Longsight these days. I skirted Wollaton Hall - home of the rugby playing public schoolboys with a passion for traffic cone collection - and went up towards the old Fallowfield Stadium. It has been knocked down and replaced by a block of student flats. Today, there is little evidence of the great sporting occasions played out here, save for a vague outline of grass banking that was once the Stadium terracing. Ever played in a FA Cup Final stadium? Dreams never end. I can tick that box. The scene of the 1893 FA Cup Final between Wolverhampton Wanderers and Everton was under our noses.It was the first Final played outside London (except for the odd replay). I always think it is a handy football quiz question. Which 2 venues in Manchester have played host to a FA Cup Final. Old Trafford and? Maine Road? No! Etihad. No! Old Trafford and the Fallowfield Stadium. It was also used for early Rugby League Challenge Cup Finals and the track cycling of the 1934 British Empire Games
Demolition hasn't quite come to fruition further down Wilmslow Road. The iconic Toast Rack building
is boarded up and derelict. A masterpiece of brutalist architecture with the poached egg building attached are no longer required by current educational providers. I recall it being part of the COMANCHE ... no nothing to do with native Americans, but the City of Manchester College Of Higher Education. It should have been listed and preserved. The building shape was best observed and appreciated from the top of Owens Park tower. If we brush over the subject of the fairer sex should the Other Half be reading, my fondest memory of COMANCHE would be seeing New Order play one of their earlier gigs. The date 6 February 1981. An 8 track set featuring Dreams Never End, no less and closed out by Ceremony. I have just found some footage on YouTube of the said evening. I never cease to be amazed by the power of the internet. The start of the 1980s were the Factory years. A Certain Ratio. The Duritti Column. The Stockholm Monsters. How did the Monsters never break the success barrier? Did they ever get to Stockholm?
Rusholme is a changed place. It no longer plays host to the hordes on their way to watch the
Kings of the Kippax play. Maine Road fell victim to the bulldozer. I wonder what the old girl, who sat behind the Joe Corrigan's goal every match makes of it today looking down from her Blue Moon perch. My first visit to Maine Road had been on my visit to see Big Sister, when the SW6 gang won 3-2 in the snow. Peter Osgood "The King of Stamford Bridge" was back and the victory was inspired by Duncan McKenzie - well he could jump over a Mini, so defeating the City defenders was no problem to him. I along with many other students joined the procession on board the Finglands Coaches bound for the 1981 FA Cup Final Replay. Tickets in the days before computerised system recorded your loyal support were remarkably on general sale by the Monday, after the initial 1-1 draw. It would be another 13 years before I got to see the SW6 gang walk out the tunnel at Wembley. The backstreets on the way to Moss Side and the Perry Boys of the time are a long way from the current Manchester City incarnation on the other side of town.
The Albert remains tucked almost
Manchester University
Students' Union Building - aka Steve Biko Building anonymously in amongst the new bright lights on the Curry Mile. In the day, the Indian Sweet Centres were outnumbered by "normal" shops and curries were something to be experienced at the Plaza Cafe on Upper Brook Street. The Plaza wasn't a "proper Indian", as known today. It was run by a Somali guy called Charlie and was universally known as "Charlie's". There was no alcohol licence, but everyone was beyond their limit on arrival so that never mattered. Water will do nicely. The place was open until 4 am or thereabouts and primarily served a menu devoted to the Chicken Biryani. The variation on the menu came in the "sauce" in the dish - mild, medium, hot, suicide and Charlie Special. Mild would make me perspire. I dread to think what the others did to people. Alas, the Plaza has disappeared. In view of the celebrated musical history of Manchester, l always think the contribution of Rusholme is sadly overlooked. The institution that is Top of the Pops started in low key circumstances on Dickenson Road. New Years Day 1964 at the studio on Dickenson Road was kicked off by Dusty Springfield and followed by the Stones. The Beatles
were Number 1 and also on the first show. The show moved to London in 1967. In the early 1980s, the Dickenson Road Studios had been demolished and we only knew the road as the place to wait for a 53 bus towards Old Trafford. I would stress, it wasn't the Theatre of Dreams back then and it was daylight robbery compared to admission prices at Maine Road. The Stretford End was £1.60 to stand on the terraces - the Kippax at Maine Road was a mere £1.30. There was a 30 pence bus fare to consider too! My first game at Old Trafford as a 0-0 draw against Arsenal. Mind, I always think back to joining the mates from back home in the away end on a Tuesday night for a Boro visit in 1981. The away support probably numbered about 75. It was a difficult night afterwards. The current school of thought would be every game at Old Trafford was a sell out in the last 50 years. Wrong. Pay on the day. The capacity in those days was about 58,000. The attendance that night - 38,342!!
The main University campus was deserted. It was August and
out of term, but still spookily silent. The traffic no longer thunders down Wilmslow Road. A bus gate sends the main body of cars along behind the Manchester Royal Infirmary. The Holt Ales' Grafton still survives, but is a new rebuild version. I found a lucky and convenient 2 hour parking place on Dover Street. In amongst a sea of modern, the Dover Street building stands out as a relic. It was originally the Manchester High School for Girls, dating back to the 1880s. The adjacent street houses, once the home to Frederick Engels, have long since demolished. The building was used as an army recruiting centre after the School moved out in 1939. It was acquired by the University in 1945 and is home to the Economics Faculty. All of my tutorials were in this building, which needed a big makeover in 1980. In the afternoon sunshine today given all the other changes, it is difficult to believe it is still here....... and still badly in need of that makeover. On nearby Brunswick Street - now a pedestrian only thoroughfare - the Roscoe Building looks positively space age. The exterior gives no clue to the large lecture theatres within.
The ceremonial buildings at the heart of the University were unchanged. There were no apparent graduation ceremonies taking places, but a group of international students were all dressed up in gowns and mortar boards in some form of organised photo shoot. They perhaps missed their own graduation day in COVID times and were improvising. Other groups of international students were patrolling round after a guide on some form of familiarisation tour - I am sure they would be showing more interest by the time they reached the John Rylands Library. The Students Union Building - aka the Steve Biko Building - looked like it had received some serious investment in a refurbishment. A young lady with parents in tow was wandering, wide eyed and impressed, checking out what the next 3 years could hold for her (subject to the A Level results). Her Dad was looking somewhat more nervous about the prospect of losing his daughter and the cost of it all. I counted myself fortunate, that the grant system of the time made the University experience possible without burdening yourself with a hideous level of debt. The dreams never ended, but reality caught up with me on 17th June
Oak House, Fallowfield
34 Beech Court 1983 - Back Row - Colin, Matthew, Me, Bog. Front Row - Mountain, Wimp & Dolphin 1983.
It was time to move on and head further north. Vera had an appointment to lead the Marske United Canine Crew at Bamber Bridge up near Preston at 7.45 pm. We skirted the city centre, which has gone so high rise with glitzy tower blocks that it is almost unrecognisable. It is possible that post pandemic, a lot could become white elephants. The traffic on the Mancunian Way was horrendous, but we eventually broke free and headed north towards Bolton and beyond. Bamber Bridge - translates to Tree Trunk Bridge - was a small non-descript mill village, which now conveniently sits at the intersections of the M6, M61 and M65 motorways. The village hit the headlines in 1943 as the scene of the Battle of Bamber Bridge. The 1511 Quartermaster Truck Regiment was based nearby and some of the unit drinking in Ye Old Hob Inn got into conflict with the Military Police. The unit was a racially segregated African American unit - the Officers and MPs were white. The locals waded in on the side of the African American soldiers, who had just been having a quiet pint. A Memorial Garden opposite commemorates the events of that
Manchester University
Students' Union Building aka Steve Biko Building night. There was no bother in the pub tonight. We polished off our gammon and chips and parked up near the Sir Tom Finney Stadium. A tidy little ground - it was the training base of the Czech Republic team in Euro 1996. Today, Bamber Bridge share the facilities with the Blackburn Rovers Ladies Football Club and the involvement of their ground staff was clear to see in the pristine playing surface. Blackburn Rovers were the original starting club for a number of the recent, successful England Lionesses. Vera enjoyed the elevated vantage point of the Main Stand and snaffled 3 gravy bones, 4 badges, some stickers and a lengthy cuddle from Ms Non League Dogs - the girl who promotes dogs at football grounds on her website and social media feeds. Marske came away with a decent point in an end to end 2-2 draw.
Appendix 1 Pitching In Northern Premier League Bamber Bridge FC 2 Marske United FC 2 Venue: Sir Tom Finney Stadium, Irongate, Bamber Bridge. Lancashire. PR5 6UU
Date: Tuesday 16th August 2022 @ 1945 Hours
Attendance: 247
Scorers: 0-1 Burgess 5 Mins (Marske United) 1-1 Alabi 24
Mins (Bamber Bridge), 2-1 Sinclair 34 Mins (Bamber Bridge), 2-2 Hopson 41 Mins (Marske)
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Rainyb
Lorraine Brecht
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