This week saw a welcome return to Cambridge, something I have been looking forward to for a while. Being a genuine work trip this time, there was sadly limited daylight opportunities for seeking obscure Shada locations.
Plenty of time though to reacquaint myself with some of the many pleasing pubs that convivial Cambridge has to offer.
A pleasant semi-holiday, marred only by inclement weather on my allotted free time on the final day and a lack of fried bread on the breakfast menu.
Also this week saw an unwelcome return to Salford, something that Ms Monoid originally booked on the cheap for a night out with friends. (The arrangement characteristically fell to pieces, and I am drafted in as financial sponsor as it is the end of the month and Ms Monoid has run out of money).
Salford Quays probably used to be a pleasantly dilapidated and atmospheric place, but regeneration has taken its toll and now upmarket flats, social housing, dull shopping malls, a misguided outpost of the BBC and an art gallery all rub shoulders uncomfortably.
Actually, it's not too bad if you have a fixed reason for going, and I more than adequately managed to indulge my fancy for cocktails containing rum.
And despite having a marked dislike for the work of L.S. Lowry, I discovered that his late 1960's and early 1970's material is actually rather interesting and much more to my taste than his more celebrated fare.
What Lowry would have made of the area now is anybody's guess. The quote on the gallery wall about his being attracted to dereliction was an irony that didn't pass unnoticed.
No fried bread for breakfast here either, despite promises that there would be.
The journey back saw a series of happy accidents. Missing the turning for the Trafford Centre saved considerable money and irritation. Likewise finding no parking space at Ikea had the same agreeable result, all of which prevented me from having to endure the Ballardian spectacle of modern worship at the temple of Mammon.
Sometimes, good things happen...
