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With its rich lineage and football history, the old borough of Manchester is a little piece of heaven for sport fans
There’s a perpetual energy that flows through Manchester. Despite its cold and clammy weather in the winter, the air is rife with young vigour, no matter the season. The vitality in this north-western city of England peaks on weekends, when sports takes centre-stage, and Manchester stands still for two days.
It’s this sporting fanaticism and aura about the city that forced me to take time off from touring London and taking a five-hour road trip to get to Manchester. Growing up, I had been an ardent fan of Manchester United, one of the two football clubs based out of the city. As an adult, my love for the club — and by extension, to the city I’d never visited — grew leaps and bounds.
Nightlife of the new and old And, boy, did Manchester not disappoint me when I got there. The very first thing that hits you about the city is its familiarity; you land up in Manchester as a tourist, and it takes you a grand total of two days to make the city your own. Bang in the centre of the bustling metropolis is the neo-gothic town hall, and exploring the area around it by foot is possibly the best way to spend your evenings. The shopping complexes and the dining places are plenty to choose from. An interesting pub I visited happened to be underground, with the entrance right in the middle of a busy street. The dimly lit place with local music and flyers of upcoming indie concerts made for a great evening out. However, if modern Manchester is not your cup of tea, there’s enough of history being kept alive here. Close to the Manchester Cathedral, in Shambles Square, is the Old Wellington Inn that traces its history to 1552, as well as Sinclair’s Oyster Bar, which retain the old-worldly charm of the city, despite several redos.
For the love of sports However, my focus was still on making a sporting pilgrimage across the city, and I chose a cold winter morning to make the round. Not too far from the town hall is the National Football Museum, one of the biggest sporting-related memorabilia houses in England. The museum is home to some of the rarest collections of jerseys, ticket stubs and other assorted game items. The museum pays rich tribute to the fact that the city is home to not one, but two powerhouse teams — Manchester United and Manchester City — that changed the face of football totally.
The next stop, naturally, becomes Old Trafford, home of the red team of Manchester. Situated half a mile away from Emirates Old Trafford, the cricket stadium, the Theatre of Dreams has been used as a football ground since 1910. The tour of the stadium takes you through the glorious past of one of the most successful clubs in the history of the game, with a glittering trophy room. The next stop is right into the stands, opening up to the most breathtaking view of the 75,635 seating capacity stadium, overlooking the lush pitch.
I had the good fortune of being in Manchester over a match-day weekend, with the stadium and the city preparing to host their rivals from London, Chelsea Football Club. The bustling energy in Old Trafford and the stewards making their way across the winding backstage of the stadium were hints enough of a crazy day to commence.
The morning of a matchday is where the fun of being a tourist in Manchester is at. Seeing people dressed in jerseys of their favourite teams, lining outside pubs at 8 am, singing and chanting songs of their teams and taking digs at rivals is not an uncommon sight. The groups are usually fun loving and will take you on in their singing sojourns more than happily.
Out and about Since scoring tickets for home games is a task akin to scaling Mount Everest on most days, I grudgingly decided to take a trip around Manchester yet again, before leaving town. An underrated part of being in the city is the quaint hole-in-the-wall cafés, which afford you a cozy breakfast, as well as some privacy. Given the chilly weather — and winds that can blow you straight off the streets and into oncoming traffic — I dove straight into a café near Manchester Victoria station for a cuppa and some croissants, which powered me to another day of walking around in admiration of the red-bricked city.
