Here I am, nestled on the edge of Heaton Park for just a few more days. This part of North Manchester is pretty rank to be honest. I’m lucky with the road I’m in but you don’t have to go far to end up in a pretty rough area. I am not a comfortable North Mancunian (hells I’m not even a Northerner). I am firmly rooted South and East of the city.
There’s this house across the road from me and I’m not sure if it’s occupied. These houses are all apparently 1930s built. This one has the original deco inlaid windows and single glazed wood frames. There might be someone in there. But if they are they must be some kind of crazy who’s been living there since these were new builds.
There are lots of houses in Manchester like this. Frozen in time. And they fascinate me. You wonder what kind of person lives there. The stories. The scandals. The tale of lives wasted. Hidden behind dusty old net curtains.
There’s a book in that somewhere. Oh wait, I think it’s been written about a thousand times.
You can read my book ‘A Most Faithful Attendant – The Life of Giovanni Battista Falcieri‘ by purchasing it here.