Mahinda’s Little World

Feel privileged, dear reader. This is that ultra-rare thing on Mahinda’s Little World - a post made from the (relative) comfort of my own living room.

I brought my work laptop home to do some reviewing - it’s 2am now, I’ve just finished (admittedly, I only started at 10.30pm), and have decided that, in a week following-on from Test matches in Australia and New Zealand*, it’s still not quite bedtime.

* New Zealand featured closer matches and, more importantly, the team I was supporting (Sri Lanka) did well. Unlike, say, England.

Besides which, I’ve got the morning off tomorrow. It’s silly, really - with major product releases in Jan and Feb, this is my busiest time of year…and I’m taking days off that have to be used before Christmas lest I lose them forever. You used to be able to carry 5 days of your allowance to the following year, which would have suited me everyone - the company would have gotten 2.5 days more work out of me during a crucial period, and I would have gotten 2.5 more days somewhere in the sun next year.

Hey ho.

Anyway, blogging. What have I been up to, of late?

Sports

Shooting. Badly, at the moment - working extra-hard means square eyes used to staring at a screen about twelve inches away…not good for concentrating on "a glorified full stop 25 yards away".

Badminton. The weekly session rolls on, with variable results. We’ll see how it goes in the new year.

Hockey. Had the last practice session of the year on Tuesday, and a club friendly on Saturday - lots of Sale players turned up, were divided into teams, and set off against each other. My side (whites - old and large) dominated the first half, but ended up losing heavily to the opposition (yellows - young and quick).

Ceilidh

The Bumper Christmas Edition of Manchester Ceilidh was fun…after a fashion. The first band, the "rock/metal/traditional ceilidh band" were good, but the calling wasn’t. Partly because it was drowned out by the guitars, and partly because the caller just didn’t allow for the sheer number of ceilidh newbies who seemed to crawl out of the woodwork.

No idea why, but it made it pretty difficult - the first dance I took part in was an utter farce. It required sets of 6 couples…and it turned out that we had 7. Rather than rectifying this, the couple at the end spent the entire time talking to the couple at the end of the neighbouring set…meaning that, by the time me and one of the girls had sorted things out, we’d missed the whole walk-through. And it wasn’t one that we could pick up.

The second band - the two house bands (of sorts) united was ace - a lot of the newbies seemed to disappear, and more regulars take the floor. I ended up being farmed out by Fern (friend of Ceilidh Cat) to her two housemates, Jen and Jenny, who’d not been before. In fact, Rosy and I spent much of the evening chatting/dancing away with those three, as well as Ceilidh Cat when she turned up…with new boyfriend, Non-Dancing Dave.

It all went on until 1am, when the DJ started as promised. He did a pretty good job of absolutely clearing the floor, by playing strange housey stuff, so off home we went.

Leeds Hattrick Boozer

Saturday saw me head to Leeds for a Christmas boozer with the Hattrick lads. After I’d managed to free my lower back a bit - it had seriously seized up after hockey, causing me a lot of pain - I caught a train across the Pennines.

I eventually found the others in Firefly, a bar notable for its 2-for-1 cocktails. I had a mojito and a caipirinha, both of which were nice and relatively manly…at least compared to Arkroyal’s pink efforts.

We headed on to a the Cockpit to wait for a few others (in case any turned up, which they didn’t), and played table football. After that, it was off to some poncey bar with poncey prices - I saw a bottle of interesting lager, and went straight for it, only to find that it cost OVER FOUR WHOLE POUNDS

After that bar (no idea what it was called, but it featured a mezzanine, purple lighting, and orange lamps) we said goodbye to the York contingent*, who had to catch a particularly rubbish 11pm train back due to engineering works. The rest of us** headed over to Wire, a rather splendid indie club. It used to be called Think Tank, and it was great then, and now it’s re-opened as much the same place with a bit of a scrub-up. It reminds me very much of The Venue, my favoured Manchester haunt back when I was a student (which is now either basement flats, or a car park for above-ground flats).

* AndersAnderinho/Andy, Impurity/Ben, Geeka/??? and ArkRoyal/Steve.

** Andiell/Andi, Waterhoose/Pete, SuperG/Graham, Madbias/Toby and (of course!) muggins here.

Anyway, we paid a whopping £6 to get in, before 11pm, and there was some lighthearted banter with the staff concerning the emptyness of the club and the lack of discount entry. Drinks happened, as did drunken crazy dancing. Two girls vaguely joined us - Racquel from York (cute brunette) and her mate from Leeds (cute blonde) - which was nice. Unfortunately, Andi had to take Toby home early, as he was flaking out. Graham joined him, leaving just me and Pete. Pete was pretty miffed, as he had been convinced not to take the 11.55pm train home. By then, we had to stay for the 3.10am.

We eventually left, heading to a fish ‘n’ chip shop en-route to the station - GENIUS! Reasonable-quality fish and chips after 2am! The station featured two groups of people - those waiting for the 2.45am rail replacement bus to York, and those of us waiting for the 3.10am back to MancLand. A fairly varied bunch, most united by drunkeness.

We eventually got on the train - Leeds must be the only station in the UK where the platforms are policed so strictly - and got chatting to two groups:

• Some drunken revellers, out for a girl’s birthday and heading back to Huddersfield.

  We found a half-finished bottle of rosé under our table, which one of the lads drank, and there was something about shoes. My hip-flask full of Vana Tallinn came in useful, too.

• Two sisters and their grandmother (I think), on their way to Manchester Airport for a 9am(!) flight to Oman, to see their parents.

  They were sober but tired. One sister was blonde, with a perfectly straight nose, while the other was brunette, with a slightly curved nose. I made much of the nasal difference - at first glance, they didn’t seem like sisters, but you gradually spotted similar mannerisms, smiles, etc. Hope they caught their flight without much trouble.

Pete and I eventually got to Manc Piccadilly, and headed over to the bus station. 4.30am was the next bus home, so we waited. And waited. And got on the bus. And slept. Well, I did, anyway, waking up every few stops. Pete shook me awake at Withington, and it was straight to bed…except that it wasn’t! The cricket was on, specifically Sri Lanka vs. New Zealand, which I watched until close of play before finally heading to bed.

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And now it’s gone 2.30am. Bed beckons, although I might put some washing on first…