Coronavirus streets in Manchester - XI

Almost sleepwalking

With the drudgery of sleep in my legs, my mind was elsewhere, the supermarket visit I missed yesterday along with a somewhat purposeful walk in the cool of the evening. From my bed, I charted the shortest route to the Regent Retail Park, then set out to go shopping.

The trek was to take 32 minutes and it took me through Castlefield, the path that formed part of my return journey just over a week ago on Sunday. The queue was about 30 deep and I was soon in the shop, having laden my basket with goods, I was nigh on exhausted at the checkout till.

Packing the heavier bits into my rucksack, I had the rest in a shopping bag and made for home via a slightly different route and through the canal ways of Castlefield that I learnt was the birthplace of Manchester.

Castlefield as the birthplace of Manchester.

Coal and canals were the business.

Where inland waterways began

The Bridgewater name I have been seeing prominently around Manchester belonged to the Francis Egerton, the 3^rd Duke of Bridgewater who happened to be a pioneer of canal building, this took navigation off rivers create courses of water for transport to strategic locations, first with Bridgewater Canal and then improving navigation between Manchester and Liverpool. He consequently made his larger fortune through his canal waterways and coal.

As I have written a bit about the River Medlock, I now have it on good authority that it was not always a malevolent force of nature. It was before the advent of steam-powered machinery used in the 18^th Century on the wharves at the end of the Bridgewater Canal in Castlefield to drive cranes and hoisting machinery powered by waterwheels on the river itself.

River Medlock is not all notorious.

Overlooking Castlefield wharves.

On entry to Castlefield, but I was leaving.

Soon to come alive again

The social places, bars, restaurants, beer gardens are all deserted because of the Coronavirus pandemic, it is amazing how thriving all these venues would have been at a different time. The streets remain sparse, though I could not help but notice that down the road at Bridgewater House, people seem to be back to work and closing late.

For me, there is much more to discover about Manchester, even after over 6 years of living here. Until my next outing, we hope for the best and we look to a better future.

Castlefield on Google Maps.

Coronavirus streets in Manchester - VIII

Here comes the sun

This is the fourth Bank Holiday under the Coronavirus lockdown, one in which we have been under certain restrictions in terms of movement and travel especially that we have pleasant weather.

For me, it was the first opportunity to expose myself to the sun and build up naturally occurring Vitamin D which I should consider taking supplements for, in general.

When I fell ill, I had asked my friend to get me a box of cornflakes, whilst I expected the Kellogg’s brand, it was a store brand from one of the more affordable supermarket chains. Checking the nutritional information on the box, it had no vitamins and minerals content. I thought it was a given that boxes of cereal had a basic set of those.

On another low-cost brand he bought at the time he was housesitting for me had the full complement of Vitamins B6, B12 & D, and Folic Acid which I do require, along with Niacin (B3), Thiamin (B1), Riboflavin (B2), and Iron. All at various required daily intakes. However, as I do sometimes have Weetabix or Kellogg’s Rice Crispies, I might increase my breakfast consumption of those.

Longing for him

With my arms and legs exposed, I took to sitting in the sun at the New Islington Wharf. It was quite busy, but I had the concrete bench to myself, watching the world go by. The biggest feeling of regret I had was not being out with Brian as I remembered the many times we walked from our apartment in Cape Town to the Victoria & Alfred Waterfront. As there were many same-sex couples holding hands taking in the atmosphere.

My outing was counter clockwise to my Friday walk, through Angel Meadow Park that was crowded without a bench free or a patch of grass with enough distance from others. Not that I would have sat on the grass. I did stop beside the Co-operative Group head office building, which had long rows of unoccupied benches in the sun and then with a nerve ending twitch in my hip hobbled into the shopping precinct.

Blog - Coronavirus streets in Manchester - VII

Flower snatching crazy woman

Another resting point before the final stretch home, there was a flowerbed behind me, a violated the social-distancing requirement without apology lunging for full-blown flowers to give to two kids in strollers, one of which she was pushing. I probably should have shouted at her or even waved my stick, a typical public vandal who cared nothing for others around them. I did not have the strength, not that it would have dissuaded her entitled mien.

On getting home, I was tired enough to take a nap. I hope when tomorrow comes, strength, verve and enthusiasm are at peak levels to enjoy the first day at work.

Coronavirus streets in Manchester - VII

To the centre of a few

Getting into a pair of gym shorts and a top that felt as if it had been painted on my skin that my nipples were prominent and the shorts verged on outraging public decency, I stepped into my highly cushioned trainers whilst still needing my cane and set out for a walk. No, there is no picture of this outing.

It was much cooler than Wednesday as I made it up to Market Street where the main shopping mall was closed to the public, but essential shops on the street were open to active crowd control. Somehow, I have noticed all chemists and pharmacies I have visited have run out of constipation suppositories. Not vital information, but for its relief and uses, the reason is to be determined.

Leaving the large Boots Chemist, I walked towards the Manchester Cathedral, all gates closed and then by the Manchester Arena remembering that today is the third anniversary of the terrorist bombing after an  Ariana Grande concert that left 22 people dead and many more injured. [Wikipedia – Manchester Arena Bombing]

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From old sorrow to a new meadow

Then up towards the Co-operative Group head office building, sauntered by the upper side lane, crossing the road to Angel Meadow Park. A place of history that comes from the most deprived conurbation, to the largest cemetery in Manchester and now regenerated into a tranquil park for meditation almost devoid of the poverty, destitution and death that greeted its heyday. Built with money from the European Union.

All around the park is a beehive of construction activity, workers out in their PPE garb some sitting on park benches or on the grass for lunch. There is life in Manchester but far from the typical hustle and bustle or rat race of what is typically one of the largest cities in the United Kingdom.

My brisk walk through the park brought me to a distinctive location, a little garden given to the issues of mental health. These pandemic times apart from the obvious sequestration might present invisible mental strains on people who are forced to stay at home alone, without social interaction or human interfaces.

The help we need

The theme ‘Every Cloud Has A Silver Lining’ prospects to see beyond the gloom of the present, but it is not that easy to find the silver lining on the clouds that obscure our view of the sunshine and sunny things in life. With Anxiety leaving us uncertain, Stigma borne of affliction and shame, being Alone leaving you caught in the miasma of loneliness and isolation, you wonder what prospect remains for finding the will to continue for anything.

Angel Meadow Garden

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Maybe in somewhere there is the Support to help with our Wellbeing bringing Hope for the future, we do not know, but we press on. With that, I left Angel Meadow out to Rochdale Road where for those who need it, a Brazilian Booty Lift beckons with its attendant side effects and dangers, for Ancoats; a section of Manchester populated with old cotton mills converted to luxury apartments and pockmarked with new developments that look so out of character with their surroundings.

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The manmade waterways of my city

Over the Rochdale Canal to get to New Islington, passing by the Islington Wharf with narrowboats docked on the banks, down the Ashton Canal towpath towards Piccadilly Basin before passing the long driveway to Manchester Piccadilly Station on to Canal Street, down by Sackville Gardens and then home in just over 90 minutes of walking.

The city is different and changing, I have no idea what would become of our city when the restrictions are lifted. People are generally staying indoors; the social distancing rule is adhered to even on pavements or bridges. I do not think the people have much confidence in the rhetoric of our government with regards to safety and security, either out of the abundance of caution or fear, we are keeping ourselves as much as possible out of harm’s way.