Friday 13 December 2019 - Exploring the Irk Valley

 

I've been here before - reports are here and here. They contain quite a lot of information, so today I'll be brief.

 

The two Pauls and I rendezvoused on the tram to Heaton Park, where on this occasion nobody else joined us. Not surprising really, as it was p*****g down with rain. We tried to dispel said inclemency by spending as long as we could in the café, before pressing on past the hall. The trick had worked, briefly, as the downpour seems to have paused for the above photo.

 

Not for long. Normal service from the skies soon resumed, curtailing the usual view towards the ever increasing mass of skyscrapers in the centre of Manchester. 

 

After a minor navigational hiccup, we exited the park, crossed the main A576 road near Victoria Avenue, and took a thin path on the west bank of the River Irk, which unsurprisingly was pretty full of water.
 

 

I suppose the walk was pleasant enough, and the company was good, but the camera remained stashed until we came across the usual rubbish in Hendham Vale. A victim of fly tipping on previous visits, and nothing has changed. It must cost the people of Collyhurst a fortune on their rates bill. 

 

 

Both Pauls looked on in dismay.

 

 

A little further on is th road bridge housing Queen's Road. By now the lens was misting up.

 

 

Just beyond here we walked under the viaduct that was the scene of a fatal accident a few years ago in 1953. Here's the Pathe News clip. These days Metrolink trams rumble gently along the re-laid tracks.

 

A little further on, 'Dreadnowt' is encountered, before reaching the H Marcel Guest paint factory that has been in business here for 80 years and is still going strong.

 

There's a wonderful commentary on this and other 'Irksome' matters in this great article from 2014.

 

 

Thanks to Paul S for discovering both the above links, which are well worth a click - they are certainly more interesting than this mundane report.

 

Closing in on Victoria, our pace quickened in an effort to get to somewhere dry. That place turned out to be the meagre shelter at Shudehill Metrolink station, from where we were conveyed by carriage to the sanctuary of our respective homes for a late lunch after our 13 km stroll.

 

Thanks for joining me, Pauls, you were brave (stupid?) to venture out today.