Yesterday we made what was possibly our most successful trip to The Trafford Centre ever, getting there early enough to beat the crowds, doing the rounds, having a meal, and leaving just as the place was getting mobbed. Clinical shopping is my speciality! 😀
I wasn’t entirely surprised to read Lisa’s post about morons shouting in the street, especially after the grim events in Liverpool while we’d been away for a week.
As it’s only a year and a half since some hoodies blew up the phonebox down the road from us, it would seem that shouting in the street must now rank pretty low on the crime scale in Liverpool when you have kids shooting each other and pub doormen getting fired upon.
Mentally I’ve already checked out of this city and physically I want out as soon as we can arrange it, which will probably be some time during Liverpool’s reign as City of Culture 2008. Drips with irony, that does.
Back on Friday the 19th I’d learned from the radio on the way home from work that there were major tailbacks joining the M6 from the M62 due to a festival taking place over that weekend. With the drive up to Scotland ahead of me that night I decided to take it easy when I got home – have some food, put a wash on, tidy up a bit and “clear my desk” on the internet before heading off.
Unfortunately I got completely sidetracked and ended up rushing to fill the car as 9pm loomed, before finally rolling out of the driveway at just after the hour. I wasn’t too bothered – I figured the traffic would have died down on the M6 and that the road up to Scotland would be fairly empty. A half an hour later and I found I was right on the money – there were no queues, the M6 was relatively clear, and the evening was dry, so I got my motorway driving head on and settled in for the three hours that lay ahead.