Jonathan Schofield begins a series of articles on the life of a Manchester tour guide
Switzerland's only Corrie fan
Etienne was from Zurich in Switzerland and spoke perfect English with a Northern inflection the reason for which will become apparent. He said: “I’m here as a treat from my partner on my birthday. I love Manchester indie music. It’s always talked to me if you know what I mean? She’s also got tickets for the Coronation Street tour tomorrow”.
I said, surprised: “You like Coronation Street? A bit of a contrast to Zurich I imagine.”
Etienne said: “I like how it depicts the life here, I mean in Manchester, or I suppose it does. I love the accents and how people say things. I like the humour. I also like how The Smiths had a Coronation Street sign over their heads with that famous picture of Salford Lads Club on The Queen is Dead album.”
Before I could say anything, he smiled and held up a hand. “Oh I know it’s not the same Coronation Street.” Etienne was proud of his Manchester knowledge.
“It’s not far away from the inspiration,” I said. “I interviewed the original script writer Tony Warren many years ago. He said he’d based his first scripts on Archie Street which is the same area of Salford, a place called Ordsall. But I don’t watch the soap. I watched it for a while ages ago in the eighties when it was more like a comedy. I’m pretty sure it didn’t accurately depict life here then nor does it do now. Anyway, isn’t it supposed to be all issues-based these days?”
Etienne laughed. He said: “There is a lot of that.” He put on a stern tone and in a very convincing generic North Western accent recited: “If you have been affected by any of the issues in this programme please call…”
He laughed again and said: “That happens after almost every programme.” He paused for a moment and then said: “I believe I am the only Corrie fan in Switzerland.”
I said: “Etienne, I’m very prepared to believe you.”
“You know,” he said his voice almost breaking, “this weekend with first a Manchester music tour and then another one of Coronation Street will be one of finest times of my life.”
Spaniard steak seekers
"Hey Mr Jonathan, if we want to eat meat where should we go?”
Strange the requests a guide gets. A tour of charming sixteen-year-old Spaniards visiting Alty Boys Grammar on an exchange programme featured just such a question.
“There’s a lot of meat out there lads,” I said. “We’d like a steak, a true British steak,” said the leader of the trio of lads making the request. He then added a couple more words: “very meaty, please.” His friend said, ‘We hear British steak is very good.”
I gave them choices, Hawksmoor, Blacklock, The Black Friar but they went to Sam’s Chop House because they preferred somewhere “traditional and old” and they seemed excited about my description of a big, bronze, moody miserabilist sat by the bar. In other words, the seated statue of ex-regular, the late Laurence Stephen Lowry who at Sam’s Chop House is anything but a ‘matchstick man’.
I get a lot of questions about good restaurant recommendations which is to be expected given dining out is one of the joys of visiting or living in a city. This was unusual as it concerned a single food type.
Still, it wasn't as strange as the request I received many years ago for a recommendation for a restaurant that specialised in carrots. I didn't know of one. It remains an unexplored restaurant opportunity within Manchester’s hospitality sector. There are vegetarian and vegan options of course but not one, I think, that specialises in carrots. Maybe someone should open such an establishment and call it 'What's up, Doc?'
Oasis in mid-America
It's amazing how so many connections to Manchester are thrown up during tours.
Jed was a cheerful, American 'soccer' fan. His team is Minnesota United. After I’d played a certain Oasis song, Jed said: “The Minnesota United fans all sing Wonderwall if we win a match.” Bewildered, I asked why? He said, “We had this coach and before the players went out on to the pitch he used to sing them Wonderwall. When the team won promotion, they came over to the fans and sang Wonderwall to us so we now sing it back to them if they win. It’s become a tradition. The scarves even have Wonderwall on them.”
I said, “How strange, but from a Mancunian point of view, very lovely too."
Then something he’d said puzzled me: "You only sing it when you win?”
He said yes. I told him the phrase ‘You only sing when you’re winning’, was sung as sarcasm by UK fans to indicate the opposition fans were not true fans and didn't stick with the team through thick and thin.
I'm not sure he understood, the Americans often have a very different mentality to the Brits.
Jed did understand Oasis though. “Is it true the brothers are both real deep fans of Manchester City and hate Man Utd? Would they hate we sing Wonderwall as we’re Minnesota United?”
“Absolutely. They'd probably fight you,” I said.
This is the link to the fans crooning like Liam, or something like that.
Music inspires very unusual dark names
The passions music delivers are immeasurable. One woman from Finland, declared on a music tour how she was a massive fan of Joy Division and Nick Cave. She was in Manchester for the former not the latter of course.
As we talked she surprised me by declaring she’s given her son the forenames of Ian Curtis Cave. As people probably know, both have tragic histories, one with his depression and subsequent suicide and the other with the death of two children and with his addictions. The Nick Cave Desert Island Discs on Radio 4 is at times a very difficult listen.
I think all I managed was a surprised "oh".
She wasn’t with her son though. She was with her daughter. "So what's your name?" I asked. The young woman said: "She called me Eliza Day."
Lots of people will know this is the title of an unremittingly grim Nick Cave ballad featuring Kylie Minogue. It has a haunting beauty but ends with the male protagonist killing the female protagonist, Eliza Day, with a rock and throwing her in a river. Odd, beyond odd, choice of name for your daughter I would say.
The mother was very happy about one thing. While on a visit to Curtis’s grave in Macclesfield the day before she’d bumped into Stephen Morris, the drummer of Joy Division and New Order in the humdrum surroundings of an Aldi car park.
"That really made my day,” the mother said. “Must have provided True Faith?” I quipped referencing my favourite New Order song.
Eliza Day nodded her head in agreement and carried on the joke with the line: "I used to think the day would never come."
You’ll have to be familiar with New Order songs to get that reference.
Dauntless Dasha
One of the most interesting people who came on a recent Saturday music tour was Dasha. She was early thirties and from Russia although she currently lives in Spain. She had a far more comprehensive knowledge of music, British and international, than I will ever have.
We went for a drink after the tour. This often happens with guests. It’s a good way of getting to know people beyond the necessarily one way street relationship of a guide talking at people for ninety minutes or so.
Dasha was great company and had diverse interests and hobbies to say the least. She was naturally funny with superb English. Both the humour and the English would come in handy as the following evening she was off to an open-mic comedy night, not to watch, but to perform. In English.
Indeed, due to return to Spain on the Monday she stayed in Manchester for the best part of a week, working remotely, won over by the city. She took part in several open-mic nights in Manchester and Liverpool and nearly in Chorley when she got on the wrong train.
Tour guiding is performance. A good tour guide entertains, a bad tour guide lectures. I use a lot of humour but people haven’t come on the tour for the humour as such, it’s a bonus. Stand-up comedy is there for one thing to make people laugh. Apparently Dasha made her audience laugh and while she had done some stand-up in Spain she’s really just started and is not a seasoned professional. You have to admire her bravery in coming to the UK and getting up in front of an audience.
I meet a lot of remarkable people on my tours and Dasha was one of them.
Death and architecture
Let's finish with the one of the oddest intros I've ever had.
I was in a Greater Manchester town to give a talk about post-1945 architecture and development in the region. The audience was a U3A group. This is the University of the Third Age, elderly folk in other words.
"Welcome everyone," the chair of group said. "Sad news first. Tom Barlow, who many of you knew, and a member for many years, has passed away so he won't be attending any more meetings obviously. Anyway, now let me introduce you to Jonathan Schofield who will talk to us today about post-war architecture."
I confess I didn’t quite know how to start the talk: recent death and deck access flats all caught up in the same breath was bewildering, less so the unremarkable news that Tom Barlow wouldn't be attending any future meetings given he was now deceased.
"Er, thanks," I started, "Sad news...er...right. A lot of things went wrong with design after World War Two but not everything..."
Next time: Zimbabwean bagpipers, German confusion and Marks and Spencer's table.
Jonathan Schofield has been writing for Manchester Confidential from 2007 and throughout that period and before has been taking guests around the North West of England. You can book on his tours here and buy his books here.
