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Biroc
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« Reply #1515 on: 23:08:29, 06-05-2007 » |
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But this makes me feel quite homesick !!  A Me too (I went to school in that city for eight years) - and I hope Tony has some fond memories of those years (when he taught me) as well!  Can I join the homesick crew here? 4 years in my case, and LOVED that place! There used to be a great little pub, just down Oxford Rd on the left from there - can't remember the name though! Ian, Tony? Tiny place, and this was the early 80s... Possibly the Lass o' Gowrie? I spent 6 fine years there myself...very nice it was too... |
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"Believe nothing they say, they're not Biroc's kind."
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roslynmuse
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« Reply #1516 on: 23:11:37, 06-05-2007 » |
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Can I join the homesick crew here? 4 years in my case, and LOVED that place! There used to be a great little pub, just down Oxford Rd on the left from there - can't remember the name though! Ian, Tony? Tiny place, and this was the early 80s...
Tommy Ducks? The Peveril? Tommy Ducks was the one with the underwear hanging from the ceiling, lovely cosy place, was demolished about 1993; the Peveril is still there, although the street life around it is somewhat curtailed... Biroc - the Lass is on the other side of Oxford Road, nearer UMIST. Fine pub tho'. (I do do other things than drink...  ) |
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martle
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« Reply #1517 on: 23:16:11, 06-05-2007 » |
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rm, thankyou!! Tommy Ducks was the one. I'd forgotten the underwear! (Er, I think some of mine might have been there, so am pleased to hear it's closed down... ulp!!) |
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Green. Always green.
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Daniel
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« Reply #1518 on: 23:18:43, 06-05-2007 » |
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The only time I've been to Manchester (in the mid 80's) I was forced to play a really irritating little keyboard to half the Liverpool football team on the train, on the way back, while this kids choir I was playing with sang Rock Around The Clock!
I'm sure they hated it (I can't say I blame them). Alan Hansen looked particularly p**d off.
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Ian Pace
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« Reply #1519 on: 23:19:13, 06-05-2007 » |
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Ones I remember (from early- to mid-1980s) are the Deucey Bridge (just by the bridge over the railway lines by Victoria), the Swan (on a street of a street off Cross Street, I think), the Sawyer's Arms (on Deansgate, past Forsyth's), and of the course the Chets-famous Hydes (up Cheadle direction - a place sufficiently far from the school that we reckoned none of the staff would ever find it). Any of you one-time (or continuing) Mancunian-dwellers know/remember those? When I was back in 1999, remember returning to the Deucey Bridge - wow, talk about bringing back memories...
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'These acts of keeping politics out of music, however, do not prevent musicology from being a political act . . .they assure that every apolitical act assumes a greater political immediacy' - Philip Bohlman, 'Musicology as a Political Act'
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roslynmuse
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« Reply #1520 on: 23:25:31, 06-05-2007 » |
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Ones I remember (from early- to mid-1980s) are the Deucey Bridge (just by the bridge over the railway lines by Victoria), the Swan (on a street of a street off Cross Street, I think), the Sawyer's Arms (on Deansgate, past Forsyth's), and of the course the Chets-famous Hydes (up Cheadle direction - a place sufficiently far from the school that we reckoned none of the staff would ever find it). Any of you one-time (or continuing) Mancunian-dwellers know/remember those? When I was back in 1999, remember returning to the Deucey Bridge - wow, talk about bringing back memories...
The Swan rings a bell, but these days I'm rarely in that part of town. The Briton's Protection is an occasional post-Bridgewater concert haunt, the Ducie Arms (by the University Toblerone dwellings) another; the Salutation is handy when one wants to escape from The Factory (some of you know where I mean...) |
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richard barrett
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« Reply #1521 on: 23:25:51, 06-05-2007 » |
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I wonder to what extent this kind of speech would be understood in Abertawe...
The first time I met a Geordie was at a party when I was about 23, and what with the noise and everything it took me a while to work out that he was talking to me in some sort of English, albeit a sort I couldn't understand. Subsequently however I did live for a few years with a lass from those parts during which I slowly and painfully became almost fluent in this strange tongue. If only there had been things like this back then... http://www.geordie.org.uk/ |
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A
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« Reply #1522 on: 23:26:47, 06-05-2007 » |
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Can I join the homesick crew here? 4 years in my case, and LOVED that place! There used to be a great little pub, just down Oxford Rd on the left from there - can't remember the name though! Ian, Tony? Tiny place, and this was the early 80s...
Tommy Ducks? The Peveril? Tommy Ducks was the one with the underwear hanging from the ceiling, lovely cosy place, was demolished about 1993; the Peveril is still there, although the street life around it is somewhat curtailed... Is the Peveril the one where the Halle players go after concerts? - a lovely seedy hole it is too!!!!! but still aah ! |
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martle
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« Reply #1523 on: 23:37:31, 06-05-2007 » |
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Bridgewater concert haunt, the Ducie Arms (by the University Toblerone dwellings) another; the Salutation is handy when one wants to escape from The Factory (some of you know where I mean...)
rm, my dear boy, you're probably too young to remember, or even have experinced it; but there was once a deuced fine watering hole on the very site where now sits the latest extension of the 'factory'. My pals and I would regularly repair there for lunchtime pints, in the days when my constitution could withstand such things! Ha! There was also that place above the shopping precinct directly opposite said 'factory'. The stories I could tell you about THAT, my lad! But, in my days there, I spent most time in drinking establishments well away from the cultural epicentre: the Clarendon, on Clarendon rd, for example. Gosh - very near and handy for those curry emporia! |
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Green. Always green.
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ahinton
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« Reply #1524 on: 23:42:00, 06-05-2007 » |
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I wonder to what extent this kind of speech would be understood in Abertawe...
The first time I met a Geordie was at a party when I was about 23, and what with the noise and everything it took me a while to work out that he was talking to me in some sort of English, albeit a sort I couldn't understand. Subsequently however I did live for a few years with a lass from those parts during which I slowly and painfully became almost fluent in this strange tongue. I trust that you've since fully recovered from this experience; what was her Cymræg like at the end of this association, might I make so bold as to ask?... From the http://www.geordie.org.uk/ link that you mention, I note the reference "it[']s them canny fowk from the North East of England sometimes wrongly but understandably mistaken for Scots or Irish to the unaquainted". Who on earth would ever be so "unacquianted" with anything and everything seriously to mistake such people for Scots? When it goes on to assert "By the way, the use of "Man" is not restricted to sex" I find myself mightily relieved that it is accepted in the North East that the efficacy of the male of the human species is not generally thought to be restricted to such activity, however desirable it may be. It's no wonder that there was deemed to be a desperate need for a Sage at Gateshead (sorry - a Sea-age at Gea-teshead)... Best, Alexandre d'Écosse |
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Tony Watson
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« Reply #1525 on: 23:44:10, 06-05-2007 » |
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Martle,
I was in Manchester for five years in the early 1980s. My preferred drinking places were Sinclairs and the Old Wellington Inn, at the back of Marks and Spencer, or the Mitre by the cathedral. They were just the nearest places really. But there was also the Mark Addy by the river.
And Ian, I didn't know about any smoking dens, even though I liked to think I knew what was going on.
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Ian Pace
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« Reply #1526 on: 23:47:18, 06-05-2007 » |
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But there was also the Mark Addy by the river. Yes yes yes yes yes! And Ian, I didn't know about any smoking dens, even though I liked to think I knew what was going on.
Or dropping sodden wodges of bog roll from a window onto whichever bald person happened to be walking underneath, using the lid of the laundry basket as a frisbee from a third floor window and nearly decapitating the security guard (Sam - remember him?), or about home brew, or .......ah, those were the days  |
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'These acts of keeping politics out of music, however, do not prevent musicology from being a political act . . .they assure that every apolitical act assumes a greater political immediacy' - Philip Bohlman, 'Musicology as a Political Act'
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martle
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« Reply #1527 on: 23:48:08, 06-05-2007 » |
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Tony I remember the Mitre! Perhaps I sat next to you at some point! Oh-oh, you weren't that bloke wot spilled me pint and I clobbered, was ye?  |
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Green. Always green.
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oliver sudden
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« Reply #1528 on: 23:48:31, 06-05-2007 » |
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Die spinnen, die Engländer... |
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Ian Pace
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« Reply #1529 on: 23:49:59, 06-05-2007 » |
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Tony I remember the Mitre! Perhaps I sat next to you at some point! Oh-oh, you weren't that bloke wot spilled me pint and I clobbered, was ye? On what-was-it-called street that ran up by the side of the cathedral, there was a notorious 'Sandwich Bar' whose 'steak on balm' was rather popular amongst us young 'uns... (basking in nostalgia now) |
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'These acts of keeping politics out of music, however, do not prevent musicology from being a political act . . .they assure that every apolitical act assumes a greater political immediacy' - Philip Bohlman, 'Musicology as a Political Act'
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