IT'S NOT A LONG WAY TO PICCADILLY

BY UWERN JONG

Outside my student years, London has been my home all my adult life. I must admit that coming from this particular cosmopolis can make you a bit disingenuous about the UK’s other cities.

Being away at University had confirmed my love for London, the excitement, the fast pace and the seemingly endless possibilities that only a big city can provide had me screaming to come back to the bright lights of the ‘Big Smoke’ as soon as the last bell rang in the summer that I graduated.

Of course even back then, other cities had their charms. Brighton, with its chilled gay village feel was, as it still is, great for a day-trip or overnighter, but would be better sandy and slightly less provincial. Glasgow’s arty edge appealed, but I’d have frozen to death and struggled to understand the broad accent. Birmingham... well Birmingham, they should just start again from scratch. Actually they have, so let's not give up hope just yet.

But Manchester, this ‘other’ metropolis in the North, always held some air of mystery. When Canal Street exploded out of the closet onto our TV screens in Russell T Davies’s ‘Queer as Folk’, I made plans to visit our cousins in the North. Intrigued, I took myself up there. The city was then in the early stages of its transformation, warehouses were turning into fashionable apartments, the nightlife was fresh, whilst retaining the edge of the city’s thriving music scene - and although it had a way to go, it felt that something exciting was about to happen. But still in my smugness of London’s superiority, I put it down as ‘one to watch’ and thought no more of it.

Nearly ten years later, I found myself back in Manchester, for the now infamous Gay Pride ‘Big Weekend’. Ironically, it took a group of Americans to call me back. They had flown in on American Airline’s direct routing from JFK into Manchester International and I was to join them in a matter of 2 hours on Virgin Trains’ slightly stomach churning, but ‘cuts-travel-time-in-half’, speedy tilting-train service.

As soon as I stepped out of Piccadilly station I felt at home. It was purely instinctual, I’ve since thought about all the reasons why, but it was an instant reaction. The city had really come of age. Whilst it retained its architectural charm and bohemian edge, it was certainly buzzing and I fed off the vibe.

Manchester Pride with all its camp and revelry was a fun-filled experience, but what really struck me about the place’s gayness was its real sense of community and its welcoming attitude to the wider world. Confident, modern, multicultural and exceedingly friendly. And the testament to all of this was the funds raised from the big weekend. A whopping £110,000 - all for good causes. All this said, Manchester Pride is not for everyone.

I met some who commented on its commerciality and that they believed such a community event shouldn’t really have a ticket price - and that they felt that money that went into securing major international acts like Kelis and Belinda Carlisle should rather be spent on direct-line investment into the community. Others talk about the effect that the festival has on binge drinking among gay youth and admittedly, there were some serious casualties that adorned the street, particularly at the close of each festival day.

But the people who doubt the festival’s community intentions should really meet those who organise it. The organisers speak and act with true passion and dedication for their community, whilst the proof in the pudding comes in the money they raised, the people whose lives they’ve changed and the sheer volume of people who took to the street to march, with Sir Ian McKellen (Serena McKellen) at the lead, in the famous Mancunian drizzle. Not to mention those who donned their glad-rags to attend the revival of Hacienda gay institution, Flesh, to support Peter Tatchell’s human rights campaigns, complete with an outrageous performance by Manchester’s own L'enfant terrible, David Hoyle.

But Manchester’s charms go way beyond Pride for the gay visitor. This majestic city guarantees all-round good times. Like a good dirty weekend, it will leave you exhausted, but definitely wanting more. It certainly gave my love for London a run for its money.

OUT THERE'S TOP TIPS:

Check out the trendy, arty Northern Quarter - with the feel of Brooklyn’s Williamsburg or London’s Dalston. If I ever relocated to Manchester (and I was tempted), this would definitely be my ‘hood’.

Manchester is not a city for dog-owners. Central Manchester has absolutely no green space to run your dog, so think twice about bringing Fido with you if you’re visiting, even when the city’s funkiest hotels are dog-friendly.

If you have the time, consider taking a day-trip out of town. The steam train from Bury to Ramsbottom is an unforgettable experience and so is trying your hand at falconry with some seriously large birds of prey at Peckforton Castle.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:

Our host was The Princess Hotel - a recently refurbished boutique hotel right in the heart of the city. Large rooms (seriously large, if badly lit bathrooms), impossibly comfy beds, great staff, hangover curing breakfasts and dog-friendly for Out There’s very own ‘news-hound’.

Try out Ning in the Northern Quarter and Michael Caine’s (not the actor) for places to eat. Also check out Ramsbottom’s worst kept secret and rightly so - Ramsons

visitmanchester.com