We begin with an innocent image with serious connotations.
Football played on the mind for most of the last couple of months, and not just for negative reasons. The analogy of the photo I was sent of the Everton bouncy castle, after an afternoon spent playing on it, now down and deflated, was an apparent precursor of what was to come, as many pointed out.
I spent a large amount of time worrying about what seemed to be the (thankfully avoided) inevitable, of course, but also enjoyed the resurgence of Wrexham and its people and I’m really loved the Disney + documentary I’m slowly watching. Similarly with Napoli, winning the Scudetto at a canter, and their T-shirts emblazoned with the title of this piece underlining the intertwinement of fans and the team, even Marine had a positive end to the season with a win in the Liverpool Senior Cup, another shining example of club and community in harmony.
It wasn’t all about the football, though, rediscovering our love of all things Bourdain via newly rereleased episodes of No Reservations and Parts Unknown, including the seminal Obama in Hanoi episode, and new music by The National which is hauntingly beautiful as ever. One song in particular resonated as huge changes took place.
Not nineteen years, forever, etc.
To take our minds off it all, we went to see the Champions. E has taken a major liking to Man City in recent months, in particular Grealish, Harland and Foden, so it was a joy to go and see them in the flesh – literally, as we saw them coming off the team coach so close to us – and a disappointing result was tempered by the impressive performance and goals we witnessed. I was especially proud as the little guy assuaged the half and half scarf and wanted the Everton kit instead… a little perilous a decision, I thought, but I was more than happy to oblige, especially what with the impending doom.
That afternoon, Napoli won the league in style and the celebrations were a sight to behold. Even from a distance; I shudder to think of what the city must have been like that weekend, or indeed this one when the trophy is lifted. Honourable mentions go to the most exciting striker in Europe this season, and Kvara ( whom I realised looks exactly like Ringo Starr in the video for ‘It don’t come easy’ via a recent episode of TOTP2) and the musical references didn’t stop when Liverpool held Eurovision the same weekend.
This, of course, had followed the Coronation celebrations, when our street party allowed me the chance to wear the Napoli colours whilst downing Pimms & Lemonade on the equivalent of the Shankhill Road and remaining in oblivion to the impending dangers we were facing. Meanwhile, channelling our inner Ukrainian, we ventured into town to embrace the musical extravaganza taking place in our city, and we were even interviewed by from Strictly about the whole event.
It was really nice to feel a part of the event, and the next weekend we watched with baited breath whilst my Italian pick finished fourth and the city looked simply glorious.
Talking of which, viewing choices this month focused mainly on the simply brilliant Colin from Accounts, a lovely little story all about a dog and an odd couple and I won’t say any more than that other than to urge you to watch it.
The final feel good story of the early summer came on a Sunday afternoon when I really should have been concentrating on other things but an excellent brunch (replete with a sublime Bloody Mary) at Crosby Wine Bar & Bistro, then a sunny afternoon at Burbo Bank with the crazy kites, meant that staying up was the only thing on my mind for an hour at least and while I paced the living room kicking every ball, I was mightily relieved when the final whistle (finally) blew. We even saw the prodigal son Anthony Gordon driving back into Liverpool a day or two later, presumably coming home to celebrate with his family…
Anyway, we end on another positive and another day out; one last dance in the other city of culture, getting dressed up for the occasion.
I’ve written before about our epic meals at Six by Nico and a very kind colleague had bought WW a voucher last year but, what with the Liverpool branch closing before we had chance to attend for a third time, we were elated to find out the Manchester branch would welcome us with not one but two menu choices over half term.
Disaster struck when trains trikes were confirmed, but we were determined to enjoy the myriad celebrations, so altered arrangements and made it over to Cottonopolis just in time for the booking.
Having opted for one of each menu on offer – enticingly entitled ‘Imagination’ & ‘The Chippie’ this time – the difficult decision as to which one should be gluten free was finally made and both sets of courses was simply fantastic. Standout elements from both included a colour-changing cocktail, smoked potato (served theatrically with a smoking cloche) the coley, and what we’d been waiting for the most, the deep fried Mars bar with an Irn Bru sorbet that has to be tasted to be believed.
Drinks at Petit Paris, a cool new cheese & wine deli further down King Street, and a saunter around the Northern Quarter where I spotted several of these open love letters to the city, as well as one of our favourite people off Gogglebox, all tinged with a little sadness that the genius guitarist Andy Rourke recently passed away, before leaving the city (and City) behind and coming home for teatime.
There is a light in your eyes and it never goes out.
Half term, then, ends in glorious sunshine; Napoli finally hold the trophy aloft and everything is underlined by those t-shirt messages.
(*It means I will be with you, and you don’t have to give up)