Simply Red

It was Ian’s final day on the Steel Cotton Trail, meaning he would be finishing in the centre of Manchester. Sheffield is the home of steel, and Manchester is known as “Cottonopolis”. The city’s wealth came from the production of cotton cloth, shipped in as fluffy bales, and shipped out as skilfully woven textiles.

I dropped Ian off in Romiley, and headed to the nearest Park & Ride, to catch a tram into the heart of Manchester. It was nice to leave the car behind. The tram took me along the route of the Ashton Canal, where Ian would be walking; past the Etihad Campus and the National Cycling Centre, home of the British cycling team. I got off at Deansgate, where I found myself on top of a viaduct high above Castlefield. I had to walk down a very long set of stairs. At the bottom, I unexpectedly found myself at a Roman granary. Castlefield was the site of the original Roman settlement of Mancunium.

History runs deep in Castlefield. It was the terminus of the Bridgewater Canal, the world’s first industrial canal, built in 1764; the oldest canal warehouse opened in 1779. As the century progressed the canals gave way to the railways and the area became dissected by a network of railway lines carried on a series of multi-arch viaducts. As the century progressed the canals gave way to the railways and the area became dissected by a network of railway lines carried on a series of multi-arch viaducts.

Like many former industrial areas, Castlefield became almost derelict until recently, but has now been reinvigorated with bars and restaurants. I loved the juxtaposition of the canal boats, locks, bridges and viaducts, against the red sandstone buildings, with the glass and steel city skyscrapers in the background. I also couldn’t help thinking what an amazing area this would be for a multi level sprint or city race.

Manchester was already working its magic on me. I think it was the brilliant red that is everywhere, along with the pride the city takes in both its heritage and its achievements. No wonder its number 1 football team are known as the Red Devils. Many other English cities are sombre grey or soft yellow. Manchester is vibrant. I love it.

Still in Castlefield, I called in to the superb Museum of Science and Industry. Built on the site of the former Liverpool Street Station, this impressive building has two wings. In one is the Textile Gallery, where you can see what a cotton factory would have looked like, and follow the process. The punch cards on one of the machines were the precursor of computer punch cards. I overheard a mother telling her son “look – that’s what cotton looks like when its on the sheep”. I suppressed the urge to tell her that cotton is a plant, historically picked by slave labour. Ah well. I would have loved to see some of the machinery working, but the noise would have been deafening.

The other wing housed the Power gallery, and was full of all sorts of engines and locomotives. The exterior of the Museum was equally impressive.

I saved the best till last. The John Rylands Library was top of my list. It looks like it should have been a Harry Potter filming location, but it never appeared in any of the movies. It had its own magic, and I wandered from wonderful room to wonderful room, spellbound by both the architecture and the treasures of this amazing library. It was hard to tear myself away.

All too soon it was time to meet Ian at Piccadilly Station, the “finish line” of his walk. I would have loved more time to explore Manchester, my favourite of the cities that I’ve been to on this trip, and with plenty more to see and do. And not everything is red.

Meanwhile, Ian walked the last 21 km, following the Ashton Canal. He called into the Portland Basin Museum, housed in a former canal warehouse. He saw a war horse woven from willow, and learned that tolls are nothing new. This is at the junction of the Ashton, Huddersfield and Peak Forest Canals – all of which one or both of us has walked beside over the past week. Ian even spotted a nice canalside residence, complete with a Bear Turret for the Captain. The nearby boat was a fixer-upper though.