Manchester Town Hall

Off on our travels. Apparently the best way to get to Manchester today was by train to Sheffield followed by 'Bus replacement Service' (three dreaded words for any traveller) to Piccadilly. So a slightly spooky fog-shrouded trip over the Moors it was - at least our hotel was right by the station and our room was ready. Manchester itself was awash with Christmas Markets, every other street full of sheds selling gluhwein and sausages. We managed to escape the scrum by means of the Art Gallery and then the Cathedral, where there was a group rehearsal underway - strings, brass, singers, the whole bit, very peaceful and relaxing. And in the evening Beck had laid on her own portion of alternative German cuisine, having found and booked online a very nice funky spaetzle place, hidden under some railway arches in Cheetham Hill...