Rebekah Lucy Loves Manchester

David Shrigley is awesome. I'm not sure everyone 'gets it' the way I do - I guess my art taste skews to the 'duh' end of the spectrum. Shrigley's art is far from 'fine' but it makes me laugh - and anything which makes me laugh is halfway to winning in my books.

Luckily my friend Hack Attack likes 'duh' art too, and suggested that we take a quick minibreak to Manchester to see the new Shrigley exhibition called How Are You Feeling? at The Cornerhouse. Trip well worth it. Observe:

Ka pai. Thanks for asking.

*waves

Sooooo skinny.

Sad but true.



Puppy!

After the exhibition we got our wander on and followed the giant illuminated Santa (handy) to the Christmas markets. Highlights: glazed nuts (seriously, we went back the next day for more), bratwurst, beer, and dressing up like Thanksgiving turkeys.

He sees you when you're sleeping. And you see him because... he's gigantic.

Bratwurst...

... and beer.

Given Manchester is a two hour train ride from London we did the sensible thing (for once in our lives) and booked ourselves in to the (potentially haunted) (seriously) Palace Hotel for the night. Naturally, as we're quite the pair of munters, an evening of drinking shenanigans was also on the cards. We figured we had a few hours to kill and / or chill, so we retired to the room - and honestly, what's better than lazing in a hotel room with three bottles of wine, room service, and Kardashian re-runs on television (Scott Disick for president)?

Surprisingly, even that kind of rock 'n roll lifestyle can get a bit tedious so we decided to lock ourselves in the wardrobe and / or bathroom for a round of Hermit. All Hack's idea, I swear. I understand the real deal involves necking an entire bottle of wine in an isolated, enclosed space - the idea being that you become quickly starved for human contact, so start drinking faster and faster, and by the time you emerge from your designated hermit space you're proper blotto. We weren't quite so game, but each downed a teacupful of wine in our respective hidey holes - Hack chugging a bit faster than I as a) she's a pro, and b) she was determined she was hanging out with a family of spiders. Ah, good times. It worked remarkably well though and put us in livelier spirits for a night on the town (which I suspect started going downhill somewhere around £2 Cosmopolitans but don't quote me on it).

Room service. Boom.

Playing Hermit. Good times.

The next day, although slightly worse for wear (I may or may not have got lost and had to navigate the tram system, long story), fuelled by Big Macs we did manage to do a bit more wandering around the city - including an unsuccessful pit stop at TK Maxx, another jaunt to the Christmas markets (for some more nuts), and enjoying the most amazing display of birds in flight at Piccadilly - it was so uplifting. I think we truly are nature-loving hippies at heart. It's just that we get distracted by wine.

Blue skies and cute buildings.



Death by tram.



Nature at its best. Mind: blown.



More blue skies and cute buildings.

Deez nuts.

I was a huge fan of Liverpool, where I celebrated by 29th birthday back in March so Manchester had a lot to live up to. I think Liverpool still pips it at the post, but I have to admit this was a pretty rushed little jaunt. The city certainly had some charm, and I think I'll be back for a proper weekender (bender) in the not too distant future.

Ultimate highlight? It's a close call between the nature diary and the train ride home...

April 16 2012. A day to remember.

Ah, lol.