Coronavirus streets in Manchester - XXX

Closer with the jab

My Manchester is as much a strange place as it is familiar, I still take my walks through the usual routes and at times veer off down a side road to discover something I did not know about my city. Buildings of rare or unusual architecture that one would never have thought was down a particular lane, a canal ending like a cul-de-sac the wall perched high up your imagination wonder what a mishap might portend, but we feel safe.

Down by the Sikh gurdwara, there was an assemblage of people and some donning high-visibility vest but strangely not of the typically Sikh ethnicity. For the Saturday, it had been turned into a vaccination centre, the need to get the apparently vaccination-averse ethnic minorities into the Covid-19 vaccine programme is moving into their community spaces. I hope the uptake is welcomed and the sceptical are being won over.

New friends in the park

Then I finally got to have a proper conversation with the lady and her companion who feed the birds in the park every morning when I am out for my walk. As usual, the greetings and the weather starts the proceedings before we put in our complaints about people who care little for the park leaving their litter all about the place.

We then move to the nicer things of life, nature; the new ducklings so recently hatched, the rare kingfishers that have not been seen for a while, the wild around the park that allowed otters to thrive and deer to graze into urban spaces, then the occasional terror that becomes of the usually idle and placid River Irwell.

Many personalities of River Irwell

Whilst I am fascinated by the ebb and swell of the river watching the levels on a website, where they live, they are threatened by floods, to my fascination, they have concern and sometimes dread. Her companion who I assumed was her husband is a family friend, her husband is busier now with the church nearby as they learnt that I am already 5 kilometres into my walk when we meet in the park. [Flood Information Service: River Irwell]

My ears attuned to her broad Lancastrian accent that I got used to when I holidayed with a family in Lancaster, we introduced ourselves by name and bid each other a good rest of the weekend. Indeed, I do miss the joy of conversation with strangers.

Self-Isolation - IV

The river overflows

Stuck indoors yesterday in quarantine, I did not realise it had rained so much in the wake of Storm Christoph that brought with it floods, snow and evacuations, our usually tame River Irwell flooded its banks in the city centre.

As I have always been fascinated by the ebb and swell of River Irwell, I have missed my early morning walks which would have brought me close to seeing the malevolent side of nature. The river breached the minor flooding height of 3.00 metres at 9:15 PM on Tuesday the 19^th of January and reached the high-water mark of 4.30 metres at 7:00 PM on Wednesday the 20^th of January before it began to recede, though it is rising again to 2.68 metres as I am writing this blog. [Flood Information Service: River Irwell]

River Irwell level, this morning

Testing my mettle

At closing time, the Track-n-Trace or the UK Government Test for Coronavirus Service called using the information I had entered in my Passenger Locator Form last Friday to ask if I will participate in an International Entrant Test (IET) programme to determine if I had contracted the Coronavirus from South Africa and ascertain what kind of strain it is.

If I were to take into consideration the inconvenience of my enforced quarantine, I would have declined the offer and stayed at home. I am under no obligation to submit myself to testing apart from for the benefit of science and maybe society at large.

The registration process was laborious, cumbersome and intrusive even as they wanted me to take the test today. Having no mode of transport, I would not have been persuaded to test if the testing centre were not within comfortable walking distance. It was just under 2 kilometres away.

Testing my patience

We scheduled the appointment for 6:00 PM and I made my way out to the walk-through testing centre where the conversation and guidance was easy in a completely hands-off manner. I took a swab of my tonsils as I still have then, then stuck it up a nostril for 10 seconds before spilling the contents of the swab kit and obtaining another in which to place the swab.

Then I had to call a freephone number to register my test, following prompts like a manic depressive making time to goose-stepping with 1s and 2s in different orders, I probably did 1221211 before I got to speak to someone who put me back on hold because they probably did not know what an IET was. Passed on to another, a few questions and back on hold to listen to the Top-40 chart of music I could neither make head nor tail of.

A few seconds from 14 minutes into the call, they had obtained as much information as possible, linked my details to the sample and I was ready to have my pizza box kit shipped to London for expedited analysis. Bathing my hands in sanitiser, I stepped into the rain slightly becalmed and got back home with just as much a Poirot shuffle in my gait to spend another six days in self-isolation.

The high tides of River Irwell

Just walking along

I generally take a standard route for my walks with some subtle variations to the path whilst not wandering off to give me something from 9 kilometres to 12 kilometres of brisk walking exercise in the morning. How I set off usually determines how well I perform, though I am sometimes shocked that there are times I have spent over 11 minutes to a kilometre when I have once managed under 6 minutes.

What gives me the most pleasure is getting 7 kilometres done in under 60 minutes, it means I should average 8 minutes 30 seconds to the kilometre. Usually, if I get 5 kilometres into 41 minutes, I know I can do it.

Not slow, big flow

One fascinating feature of my walks is the River Irwell that meanders through the City of Manchester and the City of Salford, serving as the boundary between them. I will cross the river about 6 or 7 times and up to 5 kilometres can be walking beside the river.

The river course of River Irwell - Wikipedia

I now have an eye for the currents of the river, the sedentary and fast flows, the latter which I noticed today and by the time I reached the bridge crossing into Peel Park, the river was the fullest I had ever seen it. Apparently, the river from the flood gauge can measure from 0.78m to 3.00m, the highest was 5.67m on the 26^th of December 2015, it was even much higher during a flood in Victorian times. In 1866, the river rose 14 feet (4.3m) above its normal levels.

Today, the embarkment towpath of the river was completely covered with water apart from the slipway, it was a murky brown flow and the tide was at 2.495m when I arrived at Peel Park and still rising to a peak of 2.733m at 9:30 AM. [Flood Information Service: River Irwell]

Tidal readings of River Irwell this morning.

If I had wings

The quiet feel of nature before the cities rise is calming and except for the kilometre indicators from my phone, I stopped listening to music or wearing earphones. The birds of River Irwell are a spectacle, sometimes, I have to walk through lots of guano. They never go hungry as there are people who have weaned the birds and ducks on a diet of bread.

Our local birdwatchers have sighted sand martins, blackbirds, Canada geese, great tits, wood pigeons, carrion crows, jackdaws, little grebe, starlings and much else. If only I could tell one bird from another apart from their generic names. [All bird references courtesy of The Royal Society for the Protection of Birds (RSPB)]

River Irwell at Peel Park this morning. (Click on pictures to enlarge.)

Different speeds on two feet in the park

Every little step I take

Stepping out at the break of dawn, the morning breaks with a chill and the morning dew, the weather turning as you make your way almost too far from home for you to turn around, as the need for shelter is lost to the quest to complete a quota before you resume for work.

Briskly, as you set your walking exercise, the tracker on your wrist buzzes reading your heart rate as you set out to either break personal records or just have it on the record. In the business district, you weave, and you are notified of the first kilometre.

The doorways or the nooks of large shops have sleepers, the homeless whose stories we know little of, whether they are warm enough, or will have a supply for the day and can dream of a future, we do not know. Yet, fortitude and providence does raise people from the strangest places to make a fantastic story, maybe we can angels in that journey too.

A river of curls

Reaching the edge of the city centre, you have crossed the River Irwell twice and the industrial suburb beckons for your second kilometre, though your third crossing of the river is a few hundred metres short of your third kilometre and you are well into the City of Salford.

Your fourth crossing of the river and soon after then fifth is leaves your fourth kilometre between, and the park is just in view where the circuit you walk is just about 2.2 kilometres. When you begin to make your way home by another route on a busier road, there is probably another two crossings of River Irwell and you realise this is a river that meanders through Manchester, though its course is unlikely to change in the near future.

The people of the park

The park begins to come alive as the light of day bathes it with a welcome giving you the sight of others roused to move. An elderly lady with two male companions take a walk she speaks, they nod, it is the first morning greeting, as she feeds the birds, the ducks and the geese with bread crumbs.

Further on, one man and his dog on a leash, then another man with his two dogs, one dog walking into my path whilst the other is taking him for a walk, pulling hard and demanding of motion. The lady in a hijab, sometimes walking and other times running, says good morning, we smile and she’s gone.

It’s in the family

A father pushing a perambulator combining baby-sitting with running, whether it is fun or not, the baby remains in deep slumber, as would I if I have the rocking motion of a vehicle to comfort me.

A mother brings her son to the park, he rides his bicycle as she goes for a run, then over the bridge, two kids on their scooters arrive with their dad, they make for the children’s play area, but it is still in the quiet of the day. Eschewing the cacophony that comes with music from my headphones, I take in the sounds of nature, the river rolling over rocks, the leaves rustling in the trees, the birds making different sounds a haven of the variety of life.

Another few people visit the park to run, each with a different circuit, all of different sizes and have I just recognised a face from one of those profiles of idle distraction, not that I venture a confirmation of my curiosity. The many greetings I make turn into a short conversation with a couple that walks through the park, each time noticing how different I was from the day before. It is a quick chat; I might get to know their names.

Then I return

As I leave, I have 9 kilometres in my trek and three more to go for my doorway. People walk or run, but none are doing the brisk walk I do. I can’t run and yet, I work up a good sweat that calls for my flannel at certain times.

Workmen sauntering to work are surprised at my hurried passing, I am only held back at the traffic crossings until one of them picks up a traffic cone and bellows out to me about exceeding the speed limit. I acknowledge him with a wave and 20 minutes later, I am at home.

This blog covers the subject of the blog I lost yesterday; I do not know if it is as good as the original but getting it out of my system means I can go on to other things.

Blog - A lost blog inspiration

Coronavirus streets in Manchester - X

Towering over Manchester

The decision to get out for a walk is sometimes a fraught process. Like I could have with the good weather gone for a stroll, but I did not. My view of the weather forecast today from yesterday and it appeared it was going to rain, though I did not fully discount the possibility that the weather might be better than predicted.

When I eventually stepped out, it was already late and my intention of going by the large supermarket was thwarted by the fact that it was already closed.

The streets looked a bit deserted as I made towards Hulme crossing the Mancunian Way on a pedestrian bridge that allowed me to frame the tallest occupied (Beetham Tower. 2^nd left) and tallest unoccupied (South Tower, right) buildings in Manchester in one shot, the former ceding the title to the latter.

The towers of Manchester.

A river runs around it

Down towards Regent Road, past the Regent Retail Park that I visited last week, I took the turn to the right unto Oldfield Road until I got to Chapel Street, turning left and viewing the ox bow course of River Irwell to my right.

Panoramic view of the ox-bow course of River Irwell.

Further on, you realise that Manchester is, in fact, a city of three universities, two in the city centre and the third in the City of Salford, the University of Salford. This backs unto the first public park in England, Peel Park founded by public subscription in 1846 and bordering the River Irwell.

Panoramic view of Peel Park.

In the park we find the statue of Joseph Brotherton who was the first Member of Parliament for Salford and holding the office for 24 years. More intriguingly, is the obelisk with a water level marking for the height of the Great Flood of Manchester in November 1866, reaching 8 feet 6 inches or 2.59 metres. That was just mind-boggling when I saw the expanse of land that would have been covered by water.

Obelisk with flood water mark.

A park to play

Apart from being the main public venue of the 1851 royal visit of Queen Victoria to Manchester, the park allowed for various leisure and sporting activities absenting people from poor living conditions and pollution of industrial Manchester along with being a popular spot for first dates.

After sitting by the river for a while, my journey back home was over River Irwell on the pedestrian bridge onto the finger of land created by the meandering river about 150 metres wide to the next crossing over River Irwell, from where a cataract can be viewed to the right. Linking up eventually to Chapel Street much closer to Trinity Way, I walk by Salford Central Station over River Irwell again and into the City Centre.

The course of River Irwell in Salford

The plaques of John Dalton who presaged the advent of modern chemistry, Edward Schunck who became the first recipient of the Dalton Medal and Frederick Crace Calvert who setup the first commercial manufacture of disinfectant soaps show that Manchester was indeed and still continues to be a city of scientific innovation.

I sometimes forget, there are gems of history, architecture, science, nature, and the arts in my city. It only takes a walk and some curiosity to find them. I got back just in time for another Sunday soiree with my neighbours in our courtyard.

Snapshots of what I saw.