February 13th, 2008 – by: sarahelaine
view from Manchester Business school - score!
Manchester is a great city to be let off the leash in, and the Wednesday night of our courses is traditionally the night we do that. They don’t pay expenses for it, for those of you who know who pays my wages, and I always show up in lectures the next day. Disclaimer signed.
So first, we headed for the number 1 Chinese buffet. It was very nice ��" big range, really nicely cooked, and great waiting staff. I tried a chicken foot, just to say I had (the rest of the food was more of what you’d expect). I didn’t think it was yucky ��" but it is sort of pointless. Pretty much sauce, skin and bone. After that, we went to meet some friends who were out on Canal Street.
Me in the Chinese Buffet
Canal Street is the gay quarter in Manchester, but they really don’t care if you are or not as long as you are prepared to have fun. It’s just worth mentioning if you are going there, so you know why almost everything has a rainbow flag, and can warn any homophobic eejits you may have gotten stuck with. Or possible use it as an excuse to ditch them. I’d go with the latter, because firstly who wants to go out with a bigot, and second, it's a really nice part of town, central, near the chinese restaurants, loads of blue lights in the trees and some of the nicest bars I've gone out in. Some of my friends in Manchester go out there a lot because they say there are fewer fights and friendlier people, and I can believe that. The first place we went was the joyfully discoballed, gloriously cheap, shooters and bottles a pound, Baa Bar. It smelt funny ��" we left. Our friends suggested we go to Tribeca, round the corner.
Tribeca was far classier (if you ignore that wine was £6 a bottle!) and had purple bars and big sofas and by this point I was really quite tipsy. We had a great time. At one point Dave and Becca started some sort of shove ha’penny match on the table. I loved everyone. First sign of alcohol poisoning. I ought to go home.
I told Dave, the colleague I was sitting with, I thought I ought to go home, and he said that they were going to an Indie nightclub and I had to come. So I begged a cigarette off him (“No, Dave, I said you weren’t to give me any fags when I was sober. I’m not sober. I’m drunk. Pleeeeaaaasssseeee????!”) and we went to fifth ave.
All my Manchester friends refuse to go to Fifth Ave because it is full of drunk students. But I loved it. You should have seen the place light up when they played The Smiths, and Joy Division, and I loved it. I danced like a small mad ginger… me, really. It was great, and exactly what I needed. I don’t totally remember how getting home worked, but boy, did getting up for lectures hurt!