Our getting together was long overdue; it’s been a good few years. Mostly because Ashley doesn’t travel to London all that much and my visits to Manchester have been few and irritatingly poorly timed for Ashley’s availability.
…we redoubled our efforts, not least because Ashley was due in London just a few weeks later. So I kept the late afternoon/early evening free awaiting further instructions from Ashley.
He suggested an early dinner at La Fabrica in Finsbury Park. I arranged to meet Ashely at The Terrace Cafe, situated between his hotel and the restaurant, enabling me to do the cross town hike ahead of the rush hour and get some reading done while I waited for Ashley.
Picture from the Hackney Gazette – click the pic for an interesting article about this cafe.
For a while, earlier in the day, I wondered whether our plans might come to nought. Ashley was down in London for a friend’s citizenship ceremony and celebration. Ashley sent me the following pictures and note from The Landmark
– May be slightly squify
I’ve heard of Champagne Socialists, but a Champagne Anarchist?
Anyway, Ashley turned up at The Terrace at the appointed hour seemingly not the worse for wear. He had a soft drink there, though, while I had a juice rather than a second coffee.
Then on to La Fabrica, which was a great choice of place. We tried several tapas, including scallops with chorizo, cod croquettes, Iberico loin with apples, Iberico ribs, prawns in a yummy sauce…
…washed down with a rather yummy garnache/carignon wine.
…to such an extent that he claims not even to remember being there. Bobbie will not be impressed.
Still, Ashley and I did have a very good chat/catch up. Not only that; Ashley and I also had a good go at resolving some of the UK and the world’s problems.
Unfortunately, though, one evening was not enough to actually solve any of those major world problems. Maybe next time. And hopefully next time won’t be years and years away.
Anyway, life hasn’t been taking me to Manchester much lately, so when John White told me that his daughter, Lydia, was to have her first professional stage role in Rags The Musical at the Hope Mill Theatre…
…I decided to construct a short trip to that fair, clement City.
I contacted Ashley Fletcher, who had been unavailable on my previous visit or two; we arranged to meet for dinner on the evening of 12 March. So I booked three goes at the Manchester Tennis and Racquets Club, a ticket for Rags for 13 March and an Airbnb apartment near to the Hope Mill Theatre for two nights.
Unfortunately, Ashley got called away at the last minute on family matters, leaving the first night free. This possibly afforded me an opportunity to meet up with Alex “King Cricket” Bowden instead…
…but Alex spotted that Manchester City were to play Schalke 04 at the City Of Manchester Stadium that night, which is within chaos distance of my chosen location for diggings and musical theatre. What do I know of football? For a start, why are Schalke given 04 just for turning up – are they using a handicapping system in football now, much as we do in real tennis?
Strangely there had been a big European match at that same stadium when I was last in Manchester in 2016 against a shibbolethic team named…
…Borussia Mönchengladbach….
…But as I was staying in Salford Quays that time, the resulting disruption was merely hearsay to me, whereas this time I had inadvertently arranged to stay right in the thick of it.
I sought some spiritual advice on the matter.
I had arranged to meet Andy Salmon at Sacred Trinity Church briefly before playing tennis that Tuesday afternoon. We are both involved with the Church’s on-line service register initiative, which Andy is piloting.
Sacred Trinity: a beautiful church in Salford which happens to be just around the corner from the Manchester Tennis And Racquets Club
It was actually very interesting for me to see one of the Churches involved in our project, not least to see what such places are like on a regular, non-service day. Andy of course made me very welcome and also gave me some helpful local North-East Manchester advice regarding what to do when a big match is on. Basically, get to your digs early enough to avoid the chaotic roads/transport and then only go out again during the hours of play.
Manchester Tennis And Racquets Club – not so special looking from the outside – you can see why I drove around the block a couple of times on my first visit there.
After tennis (a close match in which I came second, despite having received handicap points) I dashed off sharpish to get to New Islington early and settle in to my apartment. Probably just as well, not least because I could see the police getting ready to herd fans round the ring road and along Pollard Street. Also, it took me a while once I got to the apartment to sort out parking and entry – some goon had parked in the designated parking space for my car. The errant parking goon had been given a parking ticket, but I had no idea what I was supposed to do in the circumstances, so I waited for my host to sort out an alternative space for me to use, which he did reasonably quickly.
Getting in and out of these fancy apartments in converted industrial buildings is often quite a palaver (this is not my first time in such a place), but this one was quite exceptional, with codes for the car park, building entrance, stairs (if needed – wasn’t), corridors and then finally the front door. Once you know all of these things its OK, but the first time, laden with baggage…
…anyway, I was there in decent time and liaised with Alex. We concluded that getting either of us to and from each other within the hours of play would leave precious little time to actually do anything of merit, so abandoned the idea of meeting.
Plenty of time to eat there between the start and end of a football match.
Indeed I was home well before the end of the match and was very tired. I had driven almost all the way to Manchester through torrential rain; my least favourite driving conditions. I went to bed early and thought I heard the roar of the crowd from the stadium. Probably a goal I thought, dozily.
I also discovered that Manchester City had done similarly well on my previous 2016 visit, scoring four against a team requiring no handicap – I’m starting to get the hang of this new soccer scoring system now. I’m sure the soccer crowds just love the additional nuance that handicap scoring can bring.
Anyway, after that enjoyably early night, I rose early and had plenty of time for reading and practising my Renaissance guitar technique before going off again to Salford for a lunchtime tennis match up. This time no handicap at all and this time I prevailed over my opponent. Both of the matches had been very good ones; really nice people and good challenging tennis. Tomorrow I’ll return for a lesson.
Back to the apartment for some more music and reading. Then back to the Thai place to try a rice dish – a beef massaman.
The next morning I vacated my apartment and drove round the ring road for my tennis lesson. I decided to take a picture of the main lobby of the club, which, in contrast to the exterior, looks like a grand club from a bygone era. Trigger warning: the heads of deceased beasts line the walls:
Through the arched window (as they would say in Play School) is the real tennis court.
Darren Long gave me my lesson – as indeed he did on my last visit. He does some different drills from the guys at Lord’s and has some interesting thoughts on the one or two things I might do to transform my game from the ordinary to the utterly exceptional. It might be as easy as that…although it might not.
Seriously, Darren is a very good coach and it was a very enjoyable hour. Once again, the team at the Manchester Tennis and Racquets Club had made me feel extremely welcome and looked after me as well as I could possibly have hoped for.
I made two stops on the journey home to ensure an adequate state of alertness and to stretch a bit – driving from Manchester to London straight after a rigorous hour of drills on the tennis court is probably not ideal on the old body, but still.
It had been an enjoyable trip; apart from the cold, the wind and the rain. Manchester really should try and do something about that – otherwise it could end up with somewhat of a reputation for its inclement weather.
My arrangements for these meet-ups are mostly lost in the mists of time. Back then, I think we still sometimes made social arrangements by picking up the telephone and talking to people – an archaic practice to say the least – certainly not Ogblog-friendly.
My main day of meetings, for/with UNISON, was 7 October. But I saw some benefit in going up the night before and staying over that night to catch up with some other folk and have some leeway for the UNISON meetings too.
I booked into an apart-hotel on the edge of the Northern Quarter – well located for Arena Point and “Central Manchester proper”, relatively inexpensive and you get enough space to really be able to work as well as relax. I think it was this one; The Light Aparthotel. I remember being given a two-bedroom apartment rather than the one-bedroom place I had paid for, so I really was able to spread out and enjoy plenty of space.
I arranged to meet my cousin Mark Briegal (second cousin once removed, actually, since you ask) after work 6 October for a quick drink before he returned to the bosom of his family in Warrington. We met up in Sam’s Chop House, which was a very suitable venue. It was really nice to catch up, albeit briefly.
I then went on to meet Ashley Fletcher (a good friend from Keele) for dinner at Bem Brasil on Lever Street, quite near my hotel. I’m used to Manchester portions being big, but this was one huge meal, with people coming round with cuts of meat regularly. Good fun and ridiculously inexpensive by London standards. I had sent Ashley a copy of my draft play, Ranter, which he had discussed with a few friends who are familiar with the 17th century history involved. No issues with the history elements but Ashley had a very bright idea for a twist in the denouement. I still want to write one more new play before I give Ranter the edit/rewrite it deserves. Might be quite a wait.
What I cannot remember is who suggested Sam’s Chop House in the first place; Mark or Alex. Because my main arrangements with Alex are preserved on e-mail and are silent about the venue, whereas those with Mark must have all been phone/SMS, I am guessing that the original idea came from Mark and that I then suggested same to Alex by SMS on the day we met. It had several benefits; I knew where to find the place (as presumably did Alex), I liked the place, I knew it offered decent beer as well as decent wine and I quite fancied trying the food at Sam’s on the second night. So Alex and I ate as well as drank at Sam’s and jolly good it was too.
I did some work on the Friday – I think I might even have fitted in a follow-up meeting at Arena Point that morning, before (according to my travel records) taking the train to Banbury.
My physical diary says Hil and Chris for the weekend, but clearly we ended up cancelling that and going to see Phillie and Tony instead. Another story, I suppose.
As KC hasn’t answered your question yet maybe I can Ged. I believe you met in Sam’s Chop House. Meeting you was obviously of sufficient import that KC mentioned it to me.
…but I think that KC was following that well-known protocol when meeting for the first time with people you know only through the internet, “make sure that at least one of your loved ones, e.g. your mum, knows exactly where you are going and why”. Very wise, although in my case I assure you not necessary, merely wise as a standard precaution.
I recall cunningly arranging a slightly later than usual meet time with Ashley so I could see the denouement of the World T20 Semi-Final between Sri Lanka and England.
I recall a very convivial evening with Ashley after the match. The restaurant seemed quite good, but I seem to remember that Ashley had a fist full of vouchers, which enabled us to try the place at modest prices. We concluded that the meal had been good value for us, but that the place would not pass the Manchester “value/how much?” test once at menu prices.
Ashley might recall more about that evening; if he does, no doubt he’ll chime in Ogblog-like.
This time, I went up to Keele by car, meeting Mike Smith & David Foreman for dinner. I stayed at the Post House, just the one night, then on to Manchester on business on the Friday, staying again at the then reasonably rated Britannia Hotel, subsequently not so well rated.
Janie joined me by train as she was doing a weekend foot physical therapy course at one of the Universities.
I don’t think I saw Ashley in Manchester on that occasion – I’m not sure he was yet there or if he was I wasn’t aware of it. On some of Janie’s subsequent visits I was able to spend some time with him.
I think I just read and worked a bit while Janie did her course.
On Sunday I drove us back to London.
Very early Monday I went to Waterloo to take the Eurostar to Brussels with Michael Mainelli & Kevin Parker. I think Janie might even have driven me to the station.
Two days in Brussels and I had my brick (mobile phone) swiped on the Eurostar home.
I don’t have great memories of seeing this opera, but I think my memories of it are more closely linked to my general mood that weekend than to any intrinsic issue with the opera/production…
…other than to say that this experience probably helped to kick off the view, which has become a prevailing one, that opera ain’t me.
Bobbie was there for this one, as was Ashley Fletcher – yes, my memory definitely serves me correctly for this one, as the diary makes clear that Ashley was down for the weekend and stayed in the tower – i.e. the annex to my flat in Clanricarde Gardens – so named, by Ashley, as he felt that the place would be suitable for the detention of a mad and/or elderly relative. That annex now serves as my office – renamed the ivory tower – a more liberal purpose and name.
…a few days before I wrote up this piece, about Don Giovanni.
Postscript after seeing Ashley in April 2019: Ashley has no recollection of that weekend. So we must rely on Bobbie’s memory that I was tripping out on tiredness and rather freaked at the thought of going out to get some additional soap, as there was none for Ashley in the shower of the tower. If I really did say words to the effect:
I did not envisage this weekend as a soap buying weekend…
…that would have to be up there amongst my most autistic utterances ever. I have a dreadful feeling that Bobbie’e memory is going to be bang on regarding that point.
…one thing I do remember about a visit to Keele was… round to someone’s house…going into the kitchen for supper and being somewhat disturbed by the fact someone was sitting at the table with just a towel on. Do you remember who that might have been? Thank you anyway for another trip down memory lane. I remember our having an argument about what size of tampons should go in the machines in the women’s toilets at the university as well. What a selective memory I seem to have!
I suggested to Jilly that the venue was Ashley Fletcher’s place and that “towel man” was almost certainly Simon Legg, one of Ashley’s flatmates at that time. Simon might confirm or deny.
I then, perhaps foolishly, asked Jilly to elaborate about the great tampon debate. The following diatribe came:
Now, as far as the tampon size argument is concerned, I’m now trying to remember if Annalisa [de Mercur] was the one to support me in the argument that we had. Anyway, it was the year when you were running the student union or similar (please forgive my lack of specific information, as I didn’t keep diaries like yours unfortunately) but I do remember you were involved in deciding what tampon machine would go into the ladies loo, and, together with (I think) Annalisa, I was quite indignant over your choice of tampon size to go in the machine, as this had been made without suitable consumer experience of the selected product, and we were both of the opinion that your judgment on this occasion might not be so well appreciated by the eventual product users. If I’m not wrong, it seems that you took an executive decision and decided to stock the tampons you liked the most in the facilities without further consultation or discussion, and I frankly wonder to this day how it might have affected the overall wellbeing of those women who weren’t fortunate enough to make their own informed choices at the time.
I, personal care product expert, early 1980s
In my own defence here, I cannot imagine that I ever made a decision about the products to be supplied in the women’s (or indeed anyone’s) lavatories.
This debate feels to me, like the work of wind-up merchants, which might well have included Ashley, Simon and, if I’m not mistaken, Helen Ross, who also shared a flat with Ashley. I don’t think Annalisa was there that evening.
I can certainly imagine all three of them: Ashley, Simon and Helen, wickedly confirming: “oh yes, Ian makes all of those personal care decisions in the union, with reckless abandon and no regard for the opinions of the service users”.
I can also imagine that any attempt at denial by me would have been systematically refuted by the others as a weak attempt by me to cover my dictatorial tracks in the matter of personal care products.
Ashley: “Wind-up merchant? Do I look like a wind-up merchant?”
But Jilly’s strange memory piece raises a genuine question in my mind. Was there ACTUALLY an issue with regard to a mismatch between the products that students wanted and the products that were supplied in the Student’s Union loos? The truth of the matter, of course, was that the decisions about the specific mix of products in the machines would have come from the commercial provider. The economist in me believes that such a provider should, by dint of simple sales data, be able to provide a near optimal mix of products to maximise sales and satisfy demand. I realise that Ashley might now be laughing his head off while waving a copy of Careless Talk at me.
Anyway, putting politics and economics to one side, I would genuinely be interested to know whether or not Keele students from that era (or indeed any other era) actually felt that the vending machines were dispensing the wrong menstrual products.
As the Rolling Stones put it on the album Let It Bleed, “you can’t always get what you want”.
Thursday, 21 March 1985 went to doctors and onto CGH [City General Hospital?] etc. Went to see Ashley [Fletcher] and Co – after back to office. Not feeling too good. Did some work etc.
I was working on two publications that Easter Holidays. I was completing an update of Wot Subsid, and I was also starting research into an idea of my own – a publication on sexual health for students – which gained the title Sexplanations. More on the latter publication over the coming months.
Ashley gets very uppity if his name is missing from these “40 years on” pieces for too long, so it was a relief to see him mentioned twice in the space of 10 days in late March 1985. I am trying to remember who “and Co” might have been at that time. Helen Ross? Simon Legg? Ashley might remember.
Friday, 22 March 1985 – busyish day with Wot Subsid etc – not feeling too industrious. Stayed in evening – early night.
Saturday 23 March 1985.– Worked on What Subsid – shopped and worked some more – popped in to union and met Annalisa [de Mercur].
Annalisa is one of the two people I thanked especially for helping with Wot Subsid. The other person so named in my introduction is Sarah Heatherley.
Annalisa (above) & Sarah (below). Pictures by Mark Ellicott.
Annalisa and Sarah must have been incredibly tolerant, if that thank you is anything to go by, although I cannot imagine either of those two being silently tolerant! Both of them will have been among the un-named page collators, back in the days when that sort of thing had to be done by hand. I did my fair share of the collating and I recall Graham Pitt was a great help whenever collating was needed.
Graham Pitt – again from the Mark Ellicott collection
If you want to read the whole Wot Subsid booklet – and I find it almost impossible to imagine Ogblog readers not wanting at least to have a skim of the thing – I have scanned and uploaded Wot Subsid 1985/87 in all its glory.
Sunday, 24 March 1985 – Rose quite late – worked on Wot Subsid. Played host to Margaret [Gordon] and Simon unexpectedly due to Contact lockout – fed & sheltered them and did some work.
In truth, although I remember Margaret Gordon well I don’t remember Simon. I’m not sure whether he was Margaret’s significant other at that time or a co-volunteer with her at Contact.
Contact was Keele’s Samaritans-like service managed and run by student volunteers. I’m not quite sure what went awry for Margaret & Simon that evening/night. Perhaps they had planned to use the Contact room as temporary accommodation for the night but discovered that it had been locked up for the vacation.
My little Horwood flat was not exactly proportioned for several overnight guests, so I can only wonder how we dealt with that, but there was some sort of a sofa and some floor space as well as my modestly proportioned single bed.
I also recall Margaret interviewing me at length about the Foundation Year (FY) for a piece she was writing for Concourse. Whether she took the opportunity to conduct the interview that night, or whether she just set up the interview at that time, I don’t remember. But here is the result of that piece of journalism, which was published in the May 1985 Concourse:
Let me see if I can track Margaret Gordon down and find out if she remembers anything about this.
Monday 25 March 1985 – busyish day in office today – stayed until quite late finishing Wot Subsid etc.
Tuesday 26 March 1985 – Easy sort of day in office – did very little work. Jilly nearly came to Keele, but didn’t. Had quiet evening.
Wednesday, 27 March 1985 fairly easy day in office. Jilly [Black] came today – had trauma with Kate [Fricker]’s flat etc – had nice meal tho and Kate stayed also.
I have no idea why Jilly nearly came but didn’t on the Tuesday, but clearly her change of plan was merely a delay of one day.
I also have no idea what went wrong at Kate (now Susan) Fricker’s flat to cause “trauma”, but Kate was quite a robust person, so I suspect it was something quite serious, such as a burst pipe or electricity failure, rendering the place temporarily uninhabitable.
Stretching my food supply out to feed multiple people was never too difficult in those days, as I always had plentiful supplies of grub in the flat and my choice of dishes tended to be expandable ones.
I should really produce an additional booklet for the Keele Students’ Union, full of my delicious, nutritious and eminently-expandable recipes, to assist future students in their choices of home-cooked meals. I think I shall name that booklet “Wot Subsist”:
In addition to eating, I am pretty sure that Jilly, Kate and I spent some time that evening listening to the records that Jilly had helped me to buy on my visit to Cardiff a couple of week’s earlier.
As for the sleeping arrangements in those, once again, unexpected and overcrowded circumstances, I don’t suppose any of us can remember.
Jilly – I’m pretty sure from an earlier visit to Keele – there is an autumnal look about the place.
Thursday, 28 March 1985 – Union Committee in morning – lazyish afternoon – Jilly and I went to Ashley’s for dinner. Very nice. Left quite early.
I have quite a strong memory of that very enjoyable visit to Ashley’s place for dinner. Jilly and Ashley had enjoyed meeting each other on a previous occasion. Ashley was keen to host us when he found out that Jilly was going to visit. In particular I remember a conversation about whether Marmite was a suitable product to use as “vegan stock” or not. Some elements of that conversation would not pass the student acceptability test today.
Friday 29 March 1985 – Rose early – Jilly left early – [I] tied up loose ends – came down to London – had a lazy evening in with folks.
Saturday, 30 March 1985 easy day – went to High Street – did very little today – stayed in evening.
Sunday 31 March 1985 Rose late – had nice Chinese lunch – lazy day in with folks – had a walk and watched TV.
A few days with the folks – other people spoiling me for a brief change. That Chinese meal can only possibly have been at Mrs Wong’s.
I really should read everything before I do anything! After writing up the events of mid November, including a demonstration in Stafford and the UGM at Keele…
…I discovered, in my pile of papers, a “Concourse Freebie” that wrote those two events up.
The demo write up, in excruciating detail to my more senior eyes, made Page One of the Freebie (see headline image). The UGM made Page Five. It was written up by Ralph Parker & Martin Whatley. Several passages in that report (see below) made me smile out loud. Well writ, fellas.
Ashley Fletcher’s Take
Ashley Fletcher’s forthcoming paper on the miner’s strike includes the following passage about the rumpus at that UGM. Reproduced with Ashley’s kind permission below:
University of Life
Somewhere around this time (the exact chronology is difficult to pin down), the local university students’ union at Keele was to debate a motion to ban promotion of the strike and related fundraising as ‘Ultra Vires’. The motion put forward by the Federation of Conservative Students (FCS) was part of a conservative defunding campaign described above.
We had allies and affiliates on campus and although barred on the one hand, I had been awarded life membership of Keele Students Union and so was able to contribute to defending both the principle and the benefit to campaigning there.
The meeting on the 19th was perhaps the busiest I had ever seen and was deeply polarised and mutually antagonistic. Some local miners from Silverdale and even a couple of Hucknall strikers from Nottinghamshire with student siblings there, came with us and galvanised and provoked in equal measure.
At the debates peak, the FCS leader, (deadnaming me as a member of the Communist Party of Great Britain!) claimed that when challenged by him, I had refused to condemn the use of violence by striking miners. I had to resort to bureaucratic procedural ‘points of order’ to gain access to the microphone stating first the obvious “is it not a fact that I am not a member of the CPGB but a revolutionary anarchist communist?” to jeers and cheers.
Agreeing that, I followed with “is it not a fact that I did not say I refused to condemn the violence of striking miners but instead, condone it and support its use and extension across the coalfields against the violence of scabs and the police occupation”. The room erupted with both sides lunging, throwing beer and insults leading to a short recess before the vote. The FCS motion and consequent ban were resoundingly defeated.
…the 1984-85 miners’ strike was far and away the biggest UK political/news story of that time.
The dispute had been running for some six months before this day, in September 1984, when Arthur Scargill held a rally outside the pit in Silverdale, which might be described as “Keele’s local” in the matter of coal pits back then. Indeed I think it was that pit that did for my first Barnes flat, in M block, which needed to be demolished in late 1982:
Here is a transcript of my diary note from the day that Arthur Scargill came to town:
Saturday, 22 September 1984 – Got up early. Went to Shelton – Kathy [North Staffs Poly, President? I think], Cath [Coughlin], Andy [Crawford] and I went to Rumours and on to Scargill [Arthur Scargill rally at a closing colliery]. Shopped in afternoon – visited Kevin [“the Guinness”?], Helen [Ross] etc. Went to Union in evening.
I discover, though, by delving into The Evening Sentinel archive, that Arthur Scargill 1984 did share something in common with Trump 2024: death threats. Indeed, had I known what I now learn from the Evening Sentinel 40 years later, I might have been a little reluctant to attend:
In truth I don’t remember a great deal about the rally. I wasn’t a political sabbatical, by which I mean that I wanted to focus on running the Union and my portfolio, Education and Welfare, rather than national or international events. But I do remember that sense of history and wanting to be there when the “show” came to our town.
Arthur Scargill was a charismatic speaker and certainly carried his crowd with him. Thatcher-bashing/Tory-bashing was low hanging fruit for speeches in places like the Potteries at that time. I do remember Scargill’s mantra:
There’s no such thing as an uneconomic pit…
…failing to pass my personal economics test at that time. It was clear to me even then that the coal industry was on its way out, for economic and environmental reasons. The issue, for me, was the way that the Tory Government was going about its industrial policy, like a bull in a China shop, for ideological reasons, rather than a measured, planned approach to industrial change, which might have been achieved with more net benefit and less resulting hardship.
But it wasn’t about me, it was about Arthur. Here’s a video of a similar speech to the one we would have heard at the end of our rally:
Mercifully there was no assassination attempt on Arthur Scargill at the event we attended nor, as far as I know, at any other event during those heady days in the mid 1980s.
…assassinated Arthur Scargill’s character in the following lyric which ran and ran in NewsRevue in the early 1990s, reproduced here with Brian’s kind permission. I especially like the couplet:
He may not be to everybody’s liking,
But as a union leader…he’s striking.
Anyway, the September 1984 rally was not to be the last of the Students’ Union’s involvement in the miners’ strike, as the issue found its way onto the UGM agenda several times during our year – on at least one occasion with quite incendiary results.
Ashley Fletcher will help me to pick up on that aspect of the story in the coming months, as he has been busy recently (2024) writing up his own memories of the miners’ strike.
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