If you’ve never been to a www.ginfestival.co.uk/ I suggest you crack on and give it a whirl (unless you don’t like gin, otherwise it would be rubbish).
Bman & I went to one in Manchester at the weekend with my Bro, his lady and my bro-in-law at the fabulous venue of Victoria Baths.
It’s not every day you get to drink artisan small batch gins and eat overpriced nachos in the deep end of a Victorian swimming pool. Should the opportunity arise though I highly recommend it. Dive in. (The free glass you get is certainly big enough to do just that!)
After a drizzly walk through Manc to our hotel & a disco snooze, Bman and I ate out then had another disco snooze before we ventured to the Northern Quarter. Hipster country. After 10pm and everything! I know? Mental eh. For me anyway.
Months ago I bought tickets for Soup Kitchen for Bman’s birthday. His favourite DJ, Daniel Avery was playing. I’m not going to lie. I was a bit wary of going along. It’s been a long while since I have been to anything resembling a club and even longer since I went to anything like that with the Bman. It could easily have all gone tits.
I say club… Essentially, after turning my nose up at queuing. (I don’t Do queues darling). We went downstairs into a very small cellar, complete with cobwebs and a no expense spared black fabric backdrop behind the DJ pit. There was a small bench in the corner, fulfilling my hopes that I might actually get a ‘sit down’. The childerbeast had said, “Don’t worry mum, there might be a granny bench for you to have a lie down on”.
The music wasn’t nearly as unfortunate as I’d feared. There was a polite nod to New Order and I detected a whiff of Joy Division as one point, as I stood, wedged in a corner, occasionally swaying, as my bottle of water very quickly warmed up in my hand. I didn’t feel like the oldest swinger in town but I certainly had a good decade and half head start on the majority of the crowd. I stopped drinking quite early on in proceedings once I’d investigated the toilets. I only went twice. The second time, I thought my luck was in when I got the cubicle with the lock. Then I spotted the almost full loo roll. Bonus! Then… I noticed the long established mould on the loo roll. I lifted the lid on the loo and was met with the kind of sight only usually seen on the last morning of a festival when you’ve slept in and everything is brimming.
Fortunately it was a code yellow situation only, but if I’d hovered any further above the seat I would have been airborne. Trying to do so, whilst also trying to stop your handbag and coat from touching the floor is no easy task. They need to have that test on the fecking Cube my friend!
After that I was basically just politely biding my time until the clocks went forward and we could leave. Bman enjoyed it though and I don’t think I held him back too much. He busted as much of a move as he could in the confined and limited space. It was too loud to hold a conversation anyway. I shuffled my shoulders around a bit and played games like how long I could make a Mentos last without chewing it. (15 mins was my best time). I didn’t sit down, although I occasionally rested one knee on the bench (which by now had just been turned into a storage shelf for beer cans and empty glasses). I pondered to myself at how much worse it could have been if the music had been shit or I was wearing heels and would it be better or not if people were still allowed to smoke indoors. I decided No in the end, despite the fact that it might have masked the smell of the sweaty hipster beards and perspiring polyester.
The clocks struck 3 (4 if you count the DST) Daniel Avery showed no signs of hanging up his headphones. Bman asked me for the dozenth time if I was ok. I decided to stop saying yes and admit that I was bored and he too said he’d had enough.
I’d made it!
3am and not even slightly drunk.
Short walk back to hotel and into my Premier Inn Hypnos bed and that was even better.
All in all, a cracking weekend all round. The gin thing I would definitely revisit soon. The dank basement full of young’uns… I may swerve on that one for a while longer. If Bman wants to keep the fires burning, he can do it for the both of us. I’m happier in my oneise with a cuppa and the TV.