I’m lucky enough to have the chance to have a week of work experience at The Sun in Manchester, so I thought what better place to talk all about it than on my blog,
Of course the day we choose to come up to Manchester from London Victoria Coach Station just has to be the same day as the big bike race, not to mention the disgusting English weather. My Dad’s original plan to drive me straight to the Coach Station was ruined when we met ‘Road Closed’ signs and a policeman told us ‘There’s no way you’ll get there in a car’. Still not defeated, we ended up near Bond Street underground station and off Dad drove as he couldn’t find free parking.
So I trudged down the streets of London towards the station, chanting ‘Jubilee to Green Park, Victoria to Victoria’ whilst my shoes filled with rain. This plan soon failed however, when I realised that the Jubilee line at Bond Street was closed.
Not to be put down for long, I changed plans to get the Central line to Oxford Circus and then the Victoria line, dragging my bags behind me as my shoulders screamed in agony. Up some stairs, some more stairs and, oh, let’s just have another flight of stairs to lengthen the pain, shoes squelching all the way.
I finally met up with my great friend, and accomplice of the week, Bekki, and we headed to the coach station together. I do feel sorry for the guys that asked us for directions, only for us to say ‘We’re just following the arrows on the signs’. And then when we finally find the Coach station, it was so wonderful we almost cried. Never has a coach station in rainy London weather ever looked so beautiful.
After picking up some lunch, we headed towards our gate and queued up, only to have people shove past us. We ended up standing in the pouring rain completely soaked to the skin, last on the coach with all of our belongings drenched. Better yet, most of the people decided that they needed two seats for just one person, which meant that we couldn’t sit together. Better yet, Bekki sat next to a lovely lady who just wanted to show pictures of her holiday and her grandchildren, whilst I sat next to a silent woman who snored and kicked me more than a few times. I mean, come on, I’m soaked by the rain, I’m tired, I’m in pain, and you couldn’t have moved next to someone else? Even after I said please?
So after five hours, we arrive in soggy Manchester and finally some luck is on our side as the hotel is right around the corner from the Coach station. We check in successfully, briefly tour our small room, then head out again for a Subway – as you do.
After practicing our Manchester accents – which sound too close to Liverpool accents to be any good – we find that Chinatown is right around the corner from our hotel. I attempted to blend in by wondering around the Chinese Supermarket, but Bekki gave us away by poking at the live crabs and squealing, so we got out of town quickly. We really didn’t belong there, after all. I was waiting for people to shout ‘Get out of our town’ as we kept saying ‘Ooo look Mooncakes! Ooo look Chinese tea…OOO LOOK DIM SUM’.
We wondered through the area, finding several betting shops, buffet places, costa, and a tesco before heading back to the hotel. Resembling drowned rats, we scurried through the area where people were dressed up for dinner and headed back to our room. Already I’ve almost walked in on Bekki naked, so we’re off to a good start.
And there you have it, our first day in Manchester. Work Experience starts at 10 tomorrow morning, so we’re going to get some sleep and mentally prepare ourselves. We’re already coming up with some good phrases to say to apologise for our skills.