A Football Tourist’s Guide to Stockport – Part One

As part of my mental health campaign to get out more, I arranged to meet Karen, Martin and Christine for an overnighter in Stockport ahead of Blackpool’s match at Edgeley Park. I’d been to Stockport before but only really to the Armoury and the ground – and of course we went last year to a few of the GBG pubs. This trip was to be an eye opener into the absolute joys of this belting Northern town.

The day got off to a great start as I spotted my first daffodil of the year on my walk to the station. Surely a good omen?

I met Karen at Blackpool North and had my customary bacon bap and brew at the station to set me up for the day.

Southbound

Now on board the train to Manchester Piccadilly, Karen was nattering away in her coffee-fuelled state (something about golf admin) while I woke up and gazed out of the train window into the surrounding fog (not a metaphor – the antidepressants have done away with that). Hang on – what on earth is that? It looked like the Grim Reaper standing in a field. Bloody fog making everything look sinister. Sometimes having the creative brain of a writer makes for gloomy images (good stories, mind).

With my breakfast, I bought a bottle of water for the journey. It was another one of those bloody annoying Harrogate ones with the lid attached in two places, rendering it VERY hard to open. By default now, I grabbed the lid through my fleece for extra traction and eventually managed to wrestle it open.

After a quick change at an always-freezing Manchester, we soon arrived at our destination for the next couple of days.

We had a bit of time to loiter while we waited for the delayed Martin and Christine to make their way over from Sheffield, so we explored the station awhile.

Karen and I were staying at the new hotel right by the station so we headed over there to drop our bags and later check in.

Holiday Inn Express Stockport

We waited in here for a warm pending our friends’ arrival.

I’m going to mess with time a bit in this blog because I’m in charge and I can do that. So fast forward to a bit later on in our mission and it’s now time to check into our room. We could have done this at the end of the day but I would much rather have all my toiletries laid out before I get in pissed tired. Karen had me on edge wondering if the toiletries would all be plant related – and that nightmare proved a reality.

Breakfast (still playing with time, it’s tomorrow now, keep up!) was pretty decent, although I’m always disappointed with scrambled eggs as opposed to poached or fried (or even hard boiled).

All in all, a good hotel that I would recommend (although take your own toiletries unless you want to smell like your garden).

Right, let’s get out to explore proper, shall we?

Right, let’s get touristing!

Hat Works Museum

Obvs we couldn’t come to Stockport and not find out about its famous hat industry. Back in the day when football clubs had proper nicknames (as opposed to offensive ones), both Stockport and Luton Town were known as The Hatters, in a nod to the hat-making industry in both towns. (You can find the Football Tourist Guide to Luton here and here). So let’s see some hats, shall we?

I was never into hats until maybe ten years ago, when I realised I rocked a baker boy. Now I love them and find them a great hair-tamer in blustery conditions.

What was most exciting about this museum is that you get to try on the hats! Obvs we were all over this.

There was an exhibition downstairs that was free but you had to have booked on for a guided tour to be allowed down there (Martin had already been told off for trying to join without the relevant bureaucracy). We were feeling naughty so decided to sneak down for a nose anyway, keeping a careful distance from the tour party just metres ahead of us. Shh! Don’t let them hear us.

We learned that the phrase ‘mad as a hatter’ came from the use of mercury in the treatment of fur leading to odd behaviour of those working in the industry. Every day’s a schoolday.

I got a bit scared of snooping downstairs when the tour guide clocked us, so I scuttled off up into the shop while I waited for the others to get told off or arrested or whatever was happening to them down there.

Bless Karen, who kept directing me to stress balls in the museum shops this weekend, in a bid to help with my mental health. It was enough to be spending this time with friends, exploring a new town and enjoying local culture. This was fine medicine indeed and today was the best I had felt in many months.

The others eventually surfaced without incurring bail and at length we were able to continue on our exploration of Stockport.

Stockport Market

Ooh it’s not on the list for just yet (although we will be back later for something exciting) but let’s take a look around the market while we’re here.

Time for a bit more culture before lunch? Ok let’s go…

Stockport Story

I guess it’s easy to walk past these places and not notice them unless you’re looking. I am a big fan of planning ahead of any trip to get the most out of it – and certainly notice the difference if I don’t plan. Indeed Martin agrees that planning is the best part. There’s that sense of excitement and anticipation. A bit like when Josh Bowler got the ball. Anyway back to Stockport…

I love a local museum to get a real flavour of local people and history and culture. Let’s find out more about Stockport, shall we?

Why are locals called Stopfordians? I can’t find much information about this other than the following on Wikipedia:

There is evidence that a ford across the Mersey existed at the foot of Bridge Street Brow. Stopford retains a use in the adjectival form, Stopfordian, for Stockport-related items, and pupils of Stockport Grammar School style themselves Stopfordians.

If anyone can shed any more light on this please let me know.

An addition to this free museum was Staircase House, which you had to pay to enter, and Christine was particularly keen to visit. Everything we’d visited this morning was free so on a pro-rata basis this was still an absolute steal. This is a restored 15th century townhouse. Let’s go and take a look.

Karen and I were not missing the opportunity to write with a quill. I must confess it’s much easier on this Macbook! Although I guess writing with a quill may have been a more mindful practice.

Ah that was a lovely blast from the past, transporting us to days gone by.

By this point in the day – having been on my feet for hours and hours – my bunion was killing me and I was walking with a limp and moaning profusely to the point that Martin was moaning about me moaning. Anyway it’s definitely time for a sit down now – plus we are getting hungry. After a few aborted efforts to eat in pubs (either no room for us or not serving food on a Friday lunchtime), we were greeted with this absolute vision.

Produce Hall

This is one of those market hall type places with lots of food stalls to take your pick from. Surely there was something for everybody here? Karen did have her heart set on the hotpot at the market but we were here now and there was no way I was getting up on my gammy foot again.

I was all over this Cambodian menu from Kambuja.

It was only on our way out that we saw the beers…

On our way to our next destination, we were drawn into an intriguing shop called The Good Life; just one of those shops you cannot walk past.

This was one of those shops (like Cotteridge Wines and Message in a Bottle) where I have to stop looking at things, turn on tunnel vision and head straight for the counter, do not pass GO, do not collect spend £200. I didn’t have a bag so Christine handed me her emergency tote bag.

We spent the rest of the day pubbing (obvs, as me, Martin, Christine and Karen were involved and that’s basically what brought us together as friends in the first place). BUT, as I’ve already mentioned, I’m playing with time in this blog, so you’ll have to wait for those (unless you’re reading this in the future). Meanwhile I’m fast-forwarding to tomorrow to finish off the touristy stuff. But stick around because this is an absolute belter and a Do Not Miss for the next time you are in Stockport.

Stockport Air Raid Shelters

I’ve seen little air raid shelters and read about how the war affected local communities in other museums around the country (and Europe). But none have been as powerful as this museum, which really hits home and places you in the war and what life was like to live in Britain at that time.

Having been immersed in this world of war, it was quite a shock to reacclimatise into the overground, present day world. Indeed, the museum encouraged recycling of clothes, wellington boots, metal, food, etc because there were shortages of everything. And then all of a sudden I found myself in the museum shop, which was selling plastic things that nobody needs.

And then we were back to decimalisation again (is this something that Stopfordians still struggle with?).

Now I’ll confess I do not have a clue what some of my notes from this trip mean (I am writing this two months after we went). I’ve now stumbled across one saying ’17th century bears’, which I THINK means that bears were kept in these air raid shelters back in the day. Indeed the man on the door here told us lots of stories about Stockport and I wish I’d asked him about the etymology of the term Stopfordian (perhaps someone could do this for me when they visit and let me know?).

And that, dear reader, completes the touristy section of my Football Tourist’s Guide to Stockport. Part Two will be the pubs!

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PS Have you booked your trip to Stockport yet…?