Saturday 12 August 2023 – Macclesfield.
Other than visiting Norwich in June I haven’t been north of London in a very long time, at least since Covid times, and since Covid times more of the ‘north’ has suffered more than more of the south. Economic and societal differences have grown rather than shrunk, even under the current governments so called ‘Levelling Up’ programme. Public transport is one of those areas negatively affected and this became blindingly apparent as we chose to come back to London on Saturday evening rather than the planned Sunday morning. There were so many cancelled trains on Sunday it wasn’t worth the risk; and this is between Manchester and London, England’s second and first cities. I can’t imagine what it’s like moving around locally, we have all read stories of disrupted journeys and systemic failure of the northern rail system.
According to my blog the last time I was in Macclesfield was November 2014; it didn’t seem that long ago, but time seemingly passes with increasing rapidity the older I get. One of Eleanor’s oldest friends’ lives in Macclesfield, though she is pondering a move to St Leonards. Naturally we are trying to convince her that this is the right thing to do.
It appears that the new normal for me and train travel is no matter what ‘window’ seat I book, I end up next to a pillar and have a limited view. This is the third time in as many train journeys that this has happened. I’m starting to think I’m now cursed.
The good thing was the journey north from Euston (now London’s worst station) was on time, it was also very busy and I was sat in the most uncomfortable seat I’ve had on a train for years. As well as limited visibility I had zero leg room and was crammed into my seat. I love train travel, but this journey was one of the worst. I was glad when we arrived and I could stretch my leg on the ten minute walk to where we were staying.
Macclesfield is 20 minutes by train south of central Manchester and was a major silk town until the industry crashed in the 19th century. A lot of the residences, including the one we are staying in would have had silk weaving rooms on the top floor. The town was incredibly wealthy for many years and this can still be seen in the lovely Victorian buildings that surround the centre.
We went out an early evening meal (a lovely pizza for me) in an old cinema, which after a long period being left to rot, has recently been converted into a food hall. It’s a really nice place, had a great vibe and some fabulous food choices along with a bar specialising in local beer and another one selling wine. The music wasn’t dire either.
After eating we took a longer walk back, taking in the deserted town centre. It’s clean and tidy and doesn’t look rundown, thankfully, but a lot of the shops are closed down, as were some of the pubs, and it had an almost deserted feel to it. I fear for the place. It’s an attractive town, and one of those places that is gentrifying and possibly for once that might be a good thing, the town needs some money.
The highlight was the Ian Curtis mural, which I had wanted to see, and the reason we took the longer walk back to where we were staying. If you don’t know (and you should), Ian Curtis was the singer of late 70s post-punk band Joy Division until he tragically took his own life in 1980. Joy Division remain one of music’s most influential bands.
Saturday morning we walked to a nearby park for coffee and to let the dog of the house an opportunity to stretch his legs and burn off some energy. The coffee was good and the park was really nice, though it rained a bit as we walked back. The rain wasn’t unexpected, though naturally my rain coat was left lying on the bed.
Today is the first day of the new premier league football season and Arsenal are playing Nottingham Forest at 12:30. I went to a nearby pub to watch the game and allow Eleanor and her friend time together without me. I’d spotted a pub with football signs outside as we walked from the station last night so I headed there. When I walked in the TV wasn’t on and there was one heavily tattooed bloke leaning on the bar chatting to the bar person. I asked if they were showing the football and when I said it was Arsenal/Forest the bloke said ‘Fuck off, this is a United pub, look around’. I had failed to notice walls covered in Manchester United memorabilia. Doh! Fortunately he was ‘joking’ and the TV was put on, though he left soon after kick off. I noticed a bit later that this is the ‘official’ United supporters pub in Macclesfield. I ended up watching the game, which we won, talking to a Manchester City supporter and having quite a good time. The pub filled up soon after kick off for a baby gender reveal party; with a number of the blokes drifting over to where you could more easily see the game.
I met Eleanor and her friend in another pub where I had something to eat before we went back to where we are staying. Eleanor checked the time of our train tomorrow (we had an open return) and discovered that a large number of trains were cancelled and those that were running were showing as ‘sold out’. With an open return we had no seat booked and the thought of trying to squeeze on a sold out train that may or may not get cancelled and likely being forced to stand for two hours in a rammed carriage didn’t appeal, so we decided to go home on one of the few trains running tonight. It was busy, but at least we had slightly more comfortable seats and we made it home only slightly late.
It was a shame to have ended the visit so suddenly and I would’ve liked to have had more time to explore Macclesfield with my camera a bit further than I did, but at least that’s a driver for me to visit again.
Where is Phil now? 
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