I'm off up to Manchester this weekend to drink, have self-righteous conversations, and watch Darlo. As if that wasn't exciting enough, the railway trip there involves going over the top of the Pennines between Sheffield and Stockport, one of my favourite train journeys in Britain. The first time I went that way it was dark and I couldn't see anything, but on the second it was about ten-thirty in the morning on a frostbright winter day. There was snow in the little corries at the top of the peaks, and further down: truly exceptional. I should probably add that it was so early because I'd made the hilariously last-minute decision to go and watch Darlo at Macclesfield with my brother...I think I'd come in from a club at two-thirty, phoned him at that unsociable hour, and got up six for the first train out of Norwich. We lost one-nil and it was bloody cold.
Anyway, I'm well excited about seeing the views and having a couple of days up North. Another exciting Pennine trip is booked for July, when I'm going up Oldham (into Michael Haslam country) way for my friend James's wedding. Excellent stuff, I think.