Friday morning (Dec 12) I woke up with a raging headache, which could have been from stress, upset and grinding my teeth or possibly from the bottle of wine I'd downed the night before. I decided I needed a "mental health day", sent off an email to work that I was home sick, popped ibuprofen and went back to bed for a few more hours.
Now here's some backstory -- for anyone who doesn't know -- I have a very dear friend I met back in 2007 whilst living in Pittsburgh, Pete, who is originally from Brighouse, West Yorkshire. That's about 45 to 60 minutes northeast of Manchester. Pete and I first met at a beer festival (of course). Back in 2011, Pete married one of my best friends in Pittsburgh, Jenn. They now live in the metropolitan Washington DC area. They don't make it back to England very often, but unfortunately, there had been a death in Pete's family. So even though it was as a result of a very sad occasion, lucky for me, it meant that two great friends were an hour away just when I needed them the most.
Friday afternoon, they were driving in to Manchester to do some Christmas and other shopping at the intu Trafford Centre Shopping Centre, which is located 15 minutes away from my temporary apartment. The Trafford Centre is the largest shopping centre in the United Kingdom by retail size, and it's one of the largest in Europe overall. I think in terms of what is has under one continuous roof, it is the largest in Europe. Regardless, it's ENORMOUS. So after I had had my good sleep and done a little bit of work remotely, I showered and headed over to meet up with my friends.
Anyone who knows me well knows that as a general rule, I do not like "shopping". I prefer to go in with a plan for exactly what I need, strike quickly and get out as fast as I can. Well, I don't know if it was my awe at the spectacular centre or just the joy of spending time with my friends, but all we did was browse and shop, and I had a ball. With the distance between DC and Atlanta, it had been a while since we'd seen each other, and it was wonderful to be able to catch up. I stepped into a John Lewis department store for the first time and loved it. It might have been that we saw a display for Monty, the adorable John Lewis Christmas advertisement penguin. Monty made me very happy.
(Pete even got in on the action on this photo)
If you don't know who is Monty, watch this video:
After a visit to a bookstore, Jenn bought me a book she said I had to read. It's a history book, but she said it was laugh-out-loud funny, too. Right up my alley. I've started reading it, and so far, it's awesome. My college friend, Katie, introduced me in November to Hardcore History podcasts by Dan Carlin, and the style of this particular book reminds me a little bit of Carlin's style. Informative but also cheeky and provocative. Listen to Carlin's "The What-Ifs Of 1066" and then read Clarke's Chapter 1, "When Is a Frenchman Not a Frenchman?" for an idea of what I'm talking about. And BTW, THANK YOU, Jenn, for my awesome gift. :-)
Jenn and I enjoyed commiserating about British people's unwillingness to choose one side of the sidewalk or staircase to walk down. This is one thing that constantly drives me crazy here. In most parts of the world, we drive on the right and we walk on the right. We pass each other on our left sides whether we are driving or walking. Consistent and reliable. Here in the UK, people drive on the left, but they walk wherever the hell they feel like walking. There is absolutely no pattern for pedestrian traffic flow. It drives me bonkers. Look, I honestly don't care if it's to the right or to the left. Just freaking pick ONE, and make all our lives easier!
I was walking along a sidewalk once, to the right, and an older man walking at me head-on rebuked me that it was "nicer" if I walked on the left. I politely said "thank you" and obligingly moved over to the left. Not 10 seconds later, a different person came at my head-on from the left. That person wasn't blinking, so I had to switch back over to the right. Walking around here is a non-stop game of pedestrian chicken.
The three of us were in a toy store at the mall, up on the first floor (that's the second floor for the Americans) and about to descend to the ground floor (that's the first floor for the Americans). The toy store had posted a very large, red "polite notice" sign with large, white letters asking patrons please to walk to the left. Jenn started to take a step down on the left and was brought up short by a group of shoppers stubbornly ascending on their right, straight at her. I busted out laughing; the irony was so perfect, and Jenn got that annoyed look on her face she gets when dealing with other people (I know, because I get the exact same look on my face).
English types -- if you do just one thing for peace in our time, please pick a side and standardize your pedestrian traffic flow.
After engaging in naked consumerism, we headed in to the Great Hall to find dinner. Even the Trafford's food court is massive and beautifully ostentatious.
The thought that came to mind is that the Trafford Centre is like the Las Vegas of shopping malls. The decor is over the top, sort of like walking in to Caesar's Palace or the Venetian.
We ate dinner at an Italian restaurant, Carluccio's. Tasty food and they had a wonderful Italian red wine on special by the glass. After dinner, we did just a little bit more shopping, and then it was time to call it a night, since Pete and Jenn had a longer drive over the mountains back to their hotel. Here's one last look at the mall:
