This is a guest article by MG
Around this time about 5 or 6 days ago, I didn’t think that this trip was going to happen. Thankfully, it did, and in some style!
With the inevitable 4AM+ finish on Saturday morning, I decided to use some of my flexitime that I’d built up during my evening reception stints at Furness College to take the Friday off in an attempt to grab a few more hours sleep than usual. That plan worked perfectly, as did the planned poker touney that we held at the Glaxo Club the evening prior, in which a table of 5 battled it out in a friendly game of no-limit Texas Hold’em over a few beers. This may not sound like a major issue, but getting any of the lads to commit to participating in such an event during the week has been frustratingly difficult over the years! It was just nice to have the attendance I’d expected and once off the ground, the tournament was a great laugh. As it transpired, the number of participants dwindled by 40% relatively quickly following a crazy 3-way all-in, in which Fish and Stretchy fell to Hamel’s cheeky limp-in call with the low connectors pre-flop that hit everything as the first three were turned over. Even better for Hamel, was when the former moved all-in following the small tempter bet made in the attempt to maximise chip profit, with double jackpot being achieved when Stretchy also committed to find himself severely behind. With no help on either turn or river for those needing to catch up, Hamel found himself with a whole load of newly acquired chips (hysterics). He didn’t win the tournament, though, as in typical style he used his ammo to flat call sizable raises with cards that would usually be thrown straight in the bin. I won instead, albeit with a small dosage of luck (or pure smarm, perhaps) at the death (hysterics). I’m hoping that these events will become more regular in future!
Anyhow, I awoke at around 10:30 on Friday, which although was a little earlier than I’d hoped, was still considered to be sufficient enough rest for the day ahead. With news filtering through that we had been put onto the guaranteed entry list for the club in the evening, anticipation levels were rising by the minute – but I’ll write about the music aspect of the trip later on in this piece.
Travelling to Manchester was left in the hands of a willing volunteer… Yeah, me. The last time I drove on a motorway was during my Pass Plus short-course in February and once the clock hit 15:30, myself and Danny headed off to pick up Stretchy, wap some fuel in the car and head off for the what’s likely the most used road in the North West. Anyone who has seen me behind the wheel will likely know that I’m not the best stop-start scenarios, and of course with living next to the local school I’d inadvertently timed it perfectly with the home-time rush… Cue lots of choice words and an on-edge driver (hysterics).
Following a minor delay whilst Stretchy got ready, we set off to Shell. Anyone ever measured the difference in performance and fuel economy between Shell’s bog-standard Unleaded and their Opti-Max premium brand? Maybe I should do some research and see whether the 6p p/litre price differential is actually worth the investment. Anyhow, in went £25 of standard Unleaded fuel, and then we drove. It was a bright day and the visibility was spot-on, which made driving more on the pleasurable side than the usual A to B fare. The A590 and subsequent M6 provided a good testing bed for the car’s running and capabilities and on first impressions, its very good. I like how quiet it is – Clarkson and co. always mention engine noise and I see their point out there on the circuit, but as a car to own and drive around day in, day out I can’t help but feel that I’d rather have the engine not overpowering the hearing sense as such. It handles well, too. Danny often mentioned that the size of the tires (15’, widish) would assist the level of handling, and of course he’s dead-on with his assessment.
Driving down was always going to be interesting for a number of reasons, with taking the car past the local Booths supermarket for the first time, Lindale Hill (which we went down relatively slowly due to a certain Nissan Micra and numerous passing cars) and most prominently, motorway and city driving stimulating the mind. Let’s deal with motorway driving first. The only other time that I’d ever driven on such a road was last February when we completed the Pass Plus driving exam with Andrew (Rattigan) and Danny Harrison. That was a good day, and I was hopeful that the 150+ mile drive down wouldn’t throw up too many problems – not least the problem of taking incorrect exits! Thankfully, we had Mr Stretch on hand to navigate us there – he’s been on numerous occasions previously and had actually gone to the trouble of doing research prior to ensure we had less chance of losing our way (not all of us had!). Anyhow, the behaviour of other drivers on the motorway often brings contrasting emotions – whether of frustration, such as when you pull-in to the left lane only to find that you’re boxed in for a while, or hilarity, such as when a Subaru Impreza utilised its capability to rapidly accelerate to the maximum by entering a motorway and instantly heading for lane 4 whilst on the gas (hysterics). My driving style was a little less aggressive, with some nice smooth lines being ‘carved’ and a small amount of overtaking (hysterics).
We stopped off at a service station in Bolton as an ad-hoc measure as my legs began to feel the brunt of being stuck in a similar position throughout. That was fairly eventful in itself, with some comedy signs being located (Stretchy and Danny have phone pics) and Danny bumping into some of his relatives from Ulverston! Considering it wasn’t a planned stop and that we were only at the station for a few minutes, that was quite random. As Mickala (a student I worked with during my degree) would say, ‘it’s a small world!’ I’m not so sure (hysterics).
We headed back out onto the motorway via one of the bumpiest roads I’ve ever seen, let alone driven on (there were multitudes of craters etc that were there to inadvertently test the suspension!) and once back, it was only a small matter of time before we had to start thinking about various directions to head. We left one motorway to join another that had traffic travelling at speeds relative to a crawl (not my bag) and once through that it was A-road time to our destination. We did take one wrong turn along the way (one left too soon), but quickly realised and subsequently rectified down a back street, which I’ll pass commenting on! Once back on the right track, we found the Travelodge hotel. We were there! Or not, because Manchester’s lack of open parking meant that we had no idea where to leave the car. We did numerous laps of back streets and other areas to find no suitable place. So there was only really one thing for it – to ask those inside the hotel where we could park up. So we pulled up on some highly dodgy private land (not good) whilst Stretchy scampered away to find out. It turned out that we were only a mere 3 turns away from a huge multi-story parking zone owned by the NCP (hysterics). Salvation!
We walked back to our place of residence for the night and checked in. The room itself was fairly nice, which is what you’d expect for the £45 asking price in a relatively new building. At least, it was definitely good enough to crash in when arriving back at 04:30AM! The main topic of conversation at this point was where to eat, with the menu that was ‘conveniently’ left in the room providing a number of more expensive options if we couldn’t be arsed to venture elsewhere. You can guess what we ended up doing (hysterics).
Downstairs was good… unlike the service we got. Draught beers (of which there were only 2 lagers) were both off and cans were a mere £2.80 a pop, with bottles at £2.95. With options limited, I plumped for Guinness, which in hindsight was probably a poor choice as I had selected a Steak & Ale pie with chips off the menu, which incidentally, was my third choice behind Cumberland Sausage and Fish (hysterics). Chilling at the dining table over a beer with your mates is a pretty good way of spending time, and we made full use of the opportunity to discuss various subjects whilst awaiting meal delivery. Of course, being in a family environment, we had to be careful with what we said. Whether we managed that, though, is another matter (hysterics). Both the pie and chips were very good (I should bloody hope so for £7.50), and regardless of the fact that Danny could probably trounce it with one of his creations, I really enjoyed it. Unlike the £2.80 I paid for another can, this time Boddingtons the choice. For those saying ‘skinflint’, consider this: You can buy a crate of Boddingtons for £14 at non-trade price. That’s equivalent to 58p per can. On those figures alone, Travelodge is making £2.22 a can, which equates to nearly £50 profit per crate! Then there’s the trade discount to add! That’s ridiculous in my book, but I digress…
Once back upstairs, those who wanted to prepare themselves for the night did so (I’m of a ‘come as you are’ attitude!), whilst those who were waiting… ‘discussed’ various issues with a distinct vagueness (or just yapped away like females do – take your pick) (hysterics). For one, you can see how politicians get through their jobs relatively unscathed via moments such as these (hysterics). I’ll leave it at that.
First up for the crew when ready was the Printworks complex. I’ve been through there during the day before, but it certainly didn’t compare to what the spot is like in the evening. It’s a bright, vibrant and modern mix of bars, theatres and restaurants that is such a departure from the traditionalist aspect of small town life in Ulverston. We entered the Weatherspoon’s establishment first up to find it awash with young revellers in a party atmosphere. They begin their weekends like this… Drinking cheaply, socialising and dancing around to a certain blend of popular dance that is seemingly infectious to all in these areas. There was a sense of ‘this is where the hip and cool go’ and that people such as myself looked out of place (hysterics). Best quote from the DJ had to be ‘are there any alcoholics in the building tonight!’ which brought about voluptuous cheers from most quarters (hysterics). I myself didn’t target getting overly drunk that night – I didn’t want to miss Mr Zabiela in action…
Second pub was a multi-level building, with the upstairs section giving an excellent view over the whole of what lay underneath. This was all very blue, very cool – with the music being a mixture of 80’s pop and early 90’s stuff. Still miles away, then (hysterics). After Danny had implemented 100% tax on somebody’s foot rest (seat), we sat with a group of Irish lads, who were absolutely tremendous. They’d obviously been drinking for a fair while and had that full Irish attitude, which made for a great craic. It turned out that they weren’t of legal age to drink yet (how they got past the huge bouncers on entry remains a small mystery!) and that they’d popped over to see Liverpool play Wigan at the JJB the next day. Liverpool later won the match, so they’ll likely have been happy, and the Irish theme was complete when we entered our last pub – a fully Irish establishment last of all. The bar in here was one of the best I’ve seen (approx 10+ draught beers all on one rack! Presentation…) and we met a few complete nutters in there during our stay. The Caffrey’s we had was also the beer of the night, and perfect fuel for the nightclub that was rapidly approaching!
Stretchy was getting concerned that we may not get entry into the club if we didn’t make the queue in good time, so we drank up and headed for the taxi rank. This was eventful in itself, with standing next to a few other people who wanted to know where we were going. ‘You’ve come all the way down from there JUST to go to Sankey’s? was one comment that was passed. ‘Its scummy in there’. The latter is probably right, the former likely has no clue as to how good James Zabiela is. There will certainly have been no better DJs in Manchester that evening, that’s for sure…
After having flagged down a taxi that drove off speedily for no explicable reason, we finally got a cab. The driver was seemingly in irate mood – the passengers beforehand who owed £13.80 each coppered up and fell short of the full amount by 60 pence (hysterics). Cue a massive rant from the driver about ‘bloody students’.
“All these students… They claim to be boffins and got all their degrees / masters, yet they’re all about as dense as they come and lack one basic thing – common sense”.
As a transcript, that isn’t 100% accurate. Let’s say it’s the version that could be broadcast before the watershed (hysterics). But I get his point – people such as myself aren’t the best at grasping common sense. That’s why I struggle at just about everything I do (hysterics). His rant was brilliant – comedy of the night along with the Irish we met in the second bar! We fared better when ‘coppering up’ when it was time to pay, too, which was probably just as well with the mood the driver was in! We then headed off in a different direction to where the nightclub was. ‘Where are you going?’ asked the bemused taxi driver. The answer? To find a spot where the lads could have a piss prior to entering the club…
On arrival at the venue, Stretchy tried to utilise his spot on the guest list to queue jump, but this didn’t work and normal queuing ensued. The length of the queue wasn’t overly substantial anyway, and we were quickly at the forefront. The other two had been admitted entry when I got joked upon by one of the bouncers at the door which led me to ‘plead’ with them to let me in. “I’ve driven all of the way from Ulverston just to be here!” , was something like what I conjured (hysterics).
And then we were in. Sankey’s searches are seemingly less rigorous now than on previous occasion, and after mistaking the cloakroom queue for the pay booth and handing over my £10 entry fee, we went through the door and into the midst of the action.
It was Iain Taylor, the warm-up DJ on first. On entering the establishment, its usually a case of straight to the dancefloor with no messing about. Drinks in the club are expensive, and even if you do have one, it tends to be ‘straight for the floor’ time anyway. So we danced. Iain’s selection was excellent, with a mixture of 4/4 and breaks being played that certainly entertained a substantial number of people out on the floor. Stretchy mentioned at one point that the sound levels were too low, but I fathomed that this was being done purposefully for Iain’s finale and the introduction of the main man later on. And that’s what happened. After an excellent warm-up that finished on ‘Der Muckenschwarm’ (or however you spell it) (hysterics), which is one of my choice tracks from 2005 for the house, it was time to utilise the CDJ1000mk2’s loop facility and await the man himself.
What ensued here was hilarious in hindsight. Zabiela’s gizmos weren’t hooked up to the system, and obviously, for him to do what he does best, he needed them at his disposal. This took time to set up – a very long time (i.e. 5 minutes) in which the beats just went round and round in circles as the technician frantically worked away. This gave a nice opportunity for some rest bite before the start of what promised to be an exciting 3 hours. I grabbed a bottle of Carling and awaited the Jedi’s first move...
...Which was to play around with the now fully established loop with his EFX machine. It sounds so out there on the floor that its difficult not to grin as he’s working the sound. And I did a lot of grinning during the 3 hours, because the set was indicative of what the man does best, which is switching between breaks and 4/4, peaks and troughs, EFX, build-ups and big track droppage that make Sankey’s erupt. He did all of this during the 3 hours. After the first couple of tracks, Zabiela went for a deep edge to the sound. And he succeeded, though unfortunately this was aimed more at the die-hards than those such as Danny who was experiencing the Sankey’s environment for the first time. It was definitely die-hard stuff, too, as there was a whole load of minimal numbers that would likely put those who are not fans of the genre to sleep, rather than into a state of euphoria.
For the latter stages of this one hour and thirty minute period, my mind was constantly asking ‘when’. ‘When’s he going to do it?’ With this, I’m referring to a typical Zabiela switch with the launching of numerous dance floor bombs that would inevitably send the crowd into a frenzy. I myself knew he’d do it – I’ve witnessed him do so twice previously and when it does happen, there’s little (or indeed, anything at all) that can match it in my book. And then he did it. Its like flicking a switch or changing gear, and when that was done, it was one of the best experiences any real beats and breaks enthusiasts can have. It was wonderful. Zabiela had the crowd in a frenzy and was using his magician’s tools to impress from a technical standpoint, too. I can remember having a chat mid-set with a lad who’d initially questioned me for drugs (this always happens! I’ve never even smoked a cigarette, let alone take and deal in drugs), and thinking how in sync the majority of the Sankey’s crowd are. They’re friendly, lively and love their quality dance music, which with the amount of high class DJs and that Phazon sound system, is a regular occurrence at that spot. I’ve only ever been 5 times since 2002, and I must vow to go there more often, even if only a couple more times this year.
Zabiela’s style has won me over like few others probably can. He kept it all low key for what seemed an age and then from nowhere, transformed everything in a way that again, few others would have the potential to do. It was an awesome set, and the classic Sankey’s encores with the lights on really did cap off a tremendous evening’s entertainment. I love Sankey’s with the lights on at the end – those are moments to treasure. This time, Zabiela had a gleaming big smile on his face as he played to the crowd, and as for much of the previous 4 hours, so did I. At the end, there was a whole multitude of people wanting to congratulate / thank him / shake his hand and commend him on what was a brilliant set. James, being the lad he is, did his best to appease to as many punters as possible. I thought I wasn’t going to get the opportunity, but eventually I got my message of ‘you’re a legend already, mate’ to him over a handshake. He's so down to earth, its unbelievable. That certainly wasn’t an overblown gesture. He’ll go down in history, or at least, my history as being one of the leading lights.
Then it ended. Bed time! We headed back to the hotel, which was very well situated thanks to Stretchy’s planning skill! It was only 5 minutes away from the club’s exit door and once in, sleep was required by all. Not that I got much – I was in fully awake mode and struggled to get sufficient shut-eye... Unlike Stretchy, who seemingly went immediately. What a great day.
Saturday came around all too quickly. We awoke too early, couldn’t get back to sleep and with a longish drive back in store, I should have been feeling terrible. Except that I didn’t, for one reason or another. Thankfully, I wasn’t massively hungover due to sweating it out on the floor the night prior and not actually drinking that much, and to cap it I seemed wide awake! I wondered how that would effect me later on in the day. For then, though, it was a case of waiting until the lads had sorted themselves so we could leave at 12:00, checking out, getting back to the car and setting course for Ulverston via Bolton, so I could return the faulty video camera I’d bought earlier in the month. Getting out of Manchester was relatively simple in comparison to getting in and finding a parking spot, and once on the motorway it was a fairly comfortable journey home. I managed to get my refund from Scan, purchase an official England 2003 World Cup winners rugby top from Sportsworld for the mere price of £13.49 and get back to Ulverston in one piece, which was nice. Then I watched rugby with the drinking Union crew in the pub. Sweet. Next stop may well have to be an excursion to Tangled (Manchester) in April. The one and only Hybrid are in action then. Watch this space!
This is a guest article by MG, imported from Wordpress. Please ignore the 'author/contributor/posted-by' tag on this post, which is incorrect.
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