The sun had long since set over Ireland when I arrived in England. A late flight into a city that was not in my itinerary. Not the forest of ‘Robin Hood’ this time.

A late change of plans, a different airport and no car hire. This time it was Manchester and a taxi to the neighbouring city of Sheffield.

Ah well, at least I could get a rest in the taxi. Unfortunately when the taxi driver uttered those horrific words I knew it was going to be a very different ride to the hotel. (Later)

The hotel itself epitomizes the north of  England to me. An old Calvary Barracks with paintings of the mighty English and their gallant conquests. Now a lowly three star hotel, a fast food chain and a supermarket  stand  overlooking the once proud city of steel(works).

No industry and an ever-widening gap between the have’s and the have…