Me and my obsession for certain songs... So here I am, instead of studying macroeconomics, listening to Jessie J's Do it like a dude and procrastinating on blogspot. Since this is my 4th article (in a very short period of time...2 months?) I think this might be the time to actually launch this on facebook.
One week from today I will be in Manchester again and have to say that I have already started reminiscing about my time in Romania, without having even left it. Nonetheless, I have to admit that I missed Manchester and its mancunian ways.
The Curry Mile must be waiting for us to come back. Miss shopping at Meezan and Lidl. I remember how much I hated Manchester breakfasts - same old same old for 3 months in a row. Now I am really looking forward to going back to my sandwiches for some really strange reason I guess.
The night bus is something that I couldn`t ever forget...and something that I`m looking forward to getting back to (after exams obviously). Packed with not necessarily sober students, girls wearing short skirts (despite the blizzard outside the bus), guys with beers and champagne glasses (yeah!) in their hands, packs of people attacking the bus with snowballs. a bewildering variety of languages and the funniest drunkards ever. If you`re ever in Manchester, traveling by the night bus, and you happen to see an empty seat, don`t bother going towards it, it`s probably full of vomit (just so you know). Nonetheless, it`s the bus that takes you to have fun and gets you back. Weirdly enough it`s a seperate world. During the days, the Brits are silent, while during the night, they and everybody else living in Manchester become Lady Gaga`s little monsters, or monsters of their own, but who can make a difference anymore?
The clubs and the pubs? Of course, great music, not too much space for dancing, expensive booze (sadly). The occasional girl falling in front of you (either because drunk or her shoes do not fit), the screens where you can send texts for everyone to see, the drunk people, the loud speakers, people pinching your ass, people talking to you in incomprehensible english (for me at least)...priceless.
Market street? The busiest place in Manchester where urban fashion happens. People watching in market street sitting on a bench, smoking a cigarette while raining or snowing (and covering yourself with an umbrella) can prove to be quite fun. Carrot pants, skinny jeans, pattern skirts, leather jackets, boots, sandals, every colour in the world and the guy selling strawberries every day for 2 pounds...
Arndale,the largest inner city mall in europe, or so they say, or so I`ve heard. Every shop there, Bolo and I probably know it by heart. You have to fill your time with something when you`re still in the process of making friends in a new city (also known as having no friends).
Last but not least, our house. Our squirrels, Ilai and Vlad`s cries...
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