Outdoors

Roman Remains

If you didn’t know there was a Roman fort (or what remains of it) in Manchester, now you know. And here are the pictures of it:

roman fort1roman fort3roman fort2roman fort4roman fort5

The remains of the fort are in the part of town called Castlefield–and this sign explains why:

roman fort sign

Here is the link to Wikipedia entry, where you can find more info about this fort.

Are there any remains of Roman civilisation where you live? What historical gems can be found in your home city? Share in the comments!

Outdoors

Radcliffe Tower

So I finally got a chance to go and see Radcliffe Tower. Radcliffe Tower is a tower (or what remains of it) in Radcliffe, a small town near Manchester. I have posted some shots of Radcliffe before, though that was a bleak November scenery.

radcliffe tower1

radcliffe tower2

I couldn’t get any nearer, the tower is surrounded by a fence.

radcliffe tower3

I don’t know whether it’s available to public at all, ever, I haven’t been able to find out any info about any trail, as mentioned on this notice board, or anything else. I would really like to photograph the tower closer.

radcliffe tower info

Anyone reading this who is from this neighbourhood? Anyone out there knows this place or perhaps been to this Trail and can give more details? Tell us in the comments!

 

Outdoors

Abney Hall, Cheadle

Abney Hall is a house–or more like mansion–in Cheadle, part of Greater Manchester. Here, I give you some pics from my recent trip there.

abney hall1

abney hall2

abney hall3

It’s a Grade II listed building that now houses offices and, as far as I know, is closed to the public. It is surrounded by a park, of which I will post photos separately in a future entry.

abney hall4

The last private owner of Abney Hall was James Watts. He married a lady called Margaret Miller, who was the sister of one of my favourite people to ever have lived in this world–the writer Agatha Christie! Agatha used to visit here often and wrote some of her stories during her stays. She had based some of those big country houses that feature in her books on Abney.

You can imagine me walking the grounds there, going like, OMG she stood at the same place I am standing right now! Ah, those fangirl moments.

Gloomscapes, Outdoors

Gloomscapes #23

Another Sunday, another Gloomscapes post.

More brutalistic architecture today; this time a canteen of an office building. I was thinking of the canteen in George Orwell’s Ministry of Truth in 1984, though that one was underground.

brutalistic canteen2

The lunch queue jerked slowly forward. The room was already very full and deafeningly noisy. From the grille at the counter the steam of stew came pouring forth, with a sour metallic smell which did not quite overcome the fumes of Victory Gin.

brutalistic canteen1

This was also the place where Winston and Julia arranged their first date, over spoonfuls of stew.

#KeepOnGloomin’

 

Gloomscapes, Outdoors

Gloomscapes #22

It’s the weekly Gloomscapes entry, number twenty-two. And it’s another graffiti tag shot.

ohdear streetart

Oh dear…

The three dots remind me of drops of blood. Maybe that was the artist’s (writer’s?) intention. I purposely didn’t crop out the CCTV sign. Because, you know, they are watching us…

#KeepOnGloomin’

I’m thinking of posting up to 25 and then take a break. New material is needed.

I’m just wondering, anyone out there who is a fan of dystopia/post-apocalypse and likes to take pictures too, how would you depict your favourite fiction in photographs? Have you ever tried it? Let me know in the comments.

 

Gloomscapes, Outdoors

Gloomscapes #17

In last week’s Gloomscapes post, I was initially going to add one more picture of a broken window–the one I am posting now. But as I was looking at it, an idea started forming in my head and I concluded that not only did it deserve its own post, it deserved its own piece of fiction.

This is not meant to be a regular thing, I just got inspired. Enjoy! (Or not, as I say.)

broken window3

Nobody knew how Zara got that stone.

The girls were kept in what used to be a convent. An imposing, forbidding stone building, newly installed security cameras in each corner. Thick walls, windows high and narrow, with bars on them. Little sunlight got through; the residential wing faced north. Inside, all the rooms were identical. Floors of dark hardwood, walls painted slate grey.  A bed in each corner, metal-framed, with a thin mattress and an old worn-out blanket. No pillows. One single lightbulb hung from the ceiling. Heavy black doors were locked every night at nine o’clock by the guard on duty, unlocked again at six in the morning. The girls wore long grey dresses, starched white blouses with high collars and black shoes. The oldest ones were no more than sixteen years old. Those were the only ones who still remembered books, music, films and TV, videos, photographs. Now, all they were allowed to carry around was the Party Manifesto pamphlets. As if they didn’t know it by heart already, as if it hadn’t been engraved into their minds. To build and protect our homeland, be prepared. Always Prepared! Yet they carried it, every single one of them, dog-eared, covered with greasy fingerprints and doodles, here and there quotes and passages highlighted in neon colours, from the time before even neon highlighters were banned. Desperate attempts to mark their own individuality.

Afterwards, Zara’s roommates swore they didn’t notice anything unusual. Zara was a quiet girl who kept to herself. It seemed she had wandered off behind the gardener’s shed, the only place where such stones could be found, during the afternoon break, when even the strictest of teachers couldn’t deny themselves the indulgence of little rest. She hid the stone in her sock, at the back of her calf, no doubt thankful this time for the long skirt. She kept it there throughout the afternoon activities and dinner, until it was time to return to the rooms. Half an hour after the lights went out, she slipped out of her bed, clutching the stone in her hand, tiptoed to the window and with all the force she could gather in her sixteen-year-old body, smashed the glass.

#KeepOnGloomin’

Disclaimer: the above text is entirely fictional. The photographed building is not a former convent and no girls are kept there. The writing is merely a work of my imagination and was inspired by the picture of the broken window.
Gloomscapes, Outdoors

Gloomscapes #12

So here it is, Number 12 in Gloomscapes series, which means now I have a dozen worth of posts, hopefully worth a bit more than a dime.

And it wouldn’t be it without some brutalistic architecture!

brutalistic building1

Ministry of Truth, his place of work, towered vast and white above the grimy landscape.

~George Orwell, 1984

brutalistic building2

#KeepOnGloomin’

Outdoors

The Ha-Ha

What am I laughing at?

Well, nothing. It’s a different ha-ha I’m talking about today.

A ha-ha is a type of a wall (keeping the theme here) that keeps livestock out but doesn’t ruin the view.

ha-ha definition
Sign in Heaton Park

Heaton Park in Manchester has them and here I give you some pictures:

ha-ha2

ha-ha1

Naturally, the first question one asks is, how the hell did they get that name? From Wikipedia:

The unusual name “ha-ha” is thought to have stemmed from the exclamations of surprise by those coming across them as the walls were designed to be invisible.

It’s a good job those coming across weren’t swearing. Otherwise we’d have to call them fuck-where-did-this-come-from.

Outdoors

Beetham Tower, Manchester

Located on Deansgate, it’s the tallest building in Manchester. (169 m.)

At least at the time of the writing. You never know when this might change with all this construction going on in this city–so that it doesn’t look like I’m spreading some fake news here.

It is still fairly new, only completed in 2006. Apparently it divides opinions, but I like it. I think it’s cool to have an iconic skyscraper in the city. Thin and sleek, reminds me of today’s tech gadgets.

Beetham tower

The view from the top floor must be something to kill for!

The old and the new:

Beetham Tower2

This blog needs more of Manchester red brick architecture, methinks.