New Years Eve 2018.

What do you do on New Years Eve? When you’re young it’s party until after midnight. When you’re 68 it’s have an early night. That was the plan this year and has been for many years now.

As my house is still chaotic due to various renovations taking place, I travelled by train on the afternoon of New Years Eve to Manchester to stay with Tom. The intention was for us to have an early night, but being in Manchester there was a temptation to travel as the Manchester Metro Link tram network runs all over the city until 1pm on New Years Day.

Friends David and Tony texted to say they would be having a NYE drink in the pub early evening until about 8pm in Bury. Bury benefits from a frequent tram service from Manchester which actually runs right past the front of Toms flats. The temptation was too great. Tom wanted to stay home, so at about 4pm I set off on my own for an early evening drink. For overseas readers Bury is a satellite town to Manchester about 10 miles north of the city centre. The tram journey takes about 30 minutes.

So the three of us enjoyed our drinks in a couple of pubs in Bury until the pubs started to get busy. Soon after 8pm bouncers appreared on the door and they started charging for entry. This seems to be the norm now in town centres everywhere on New Years Eve. To me, the old days when you could roam around freely were much better. Our time was up, so we headed for the tram and home. David and Tony got off at Crumpsall. I was staying on until Piccadilly, only I never got there. Not by tram at least. I had to walk it.

The tram was very busy. Standing room only, but everyone was very good natured, and surprisingly still very good natured even after it had stopped outside Queens Road tram stop and didn’t move for about twenty minutes. The tram eventually drew in to the platform at Queens Road where it was announced that it would not be going any further. No explanation given as to why. We all got off, the doors shut behind us and the tram disappeared into the night back in the direction of Bury. The indicator board said that the next tram for Piccadilly would be in 28 minutes time. It was at this point we all began to realise that something was wrong. People began phoning for taxis and trying to find out what was going on. The next station down the line from Queens Road in the direction of Piccadilly is Victoria.

We were eventually advised there had been an incident (staff would emphatically not say what sort of incident) at Victoria Station and there would be no more trams through Victoria that evening. As all the buses had stopped running at 6pm and by now it was about 9.30 the alternatives were either taxi or walk. Everyone will now have heard about the stabbing incident that took place on the tram platform at Victoria Station that night when three people were attacked and seriously injured, by a man with a 12 inch kitchen knife. At this point however no-one knew anything about this. With hindsight, the tram we had been on could quite easily have ended up on the tram platform at Victoria at about 9pm just when this incident was unfolding.

It’s about three miles from Queens Road to Piccadilly and it took about 45 minutes to walk it. It was only when Tom and I were listening to the tv news later in the evening that the nature of the incident became known. It immediately allowed the feelings felt at the time of the Manchester Arena bombing, (also at Victoria Station) when 20 people were killed, to resurface. What a depressing end to what had been, up until then, an enjoyable evening.

But let me leave you with this:

The three mile walk from Queens Road was actually quite enjoyable. The weather was mild and fine, and I fell into occasional conversations along the way with a fellow traveller who had been on the same tram as me. We were walking the same route and we had about the same walking pace. He was trying to get to Cornbrook to meet his girl friend. We speculated about what was going on, the prices of taxis on New Years Eve, and other chit chat that made the walk seem much shorter. He was about 20, Asian, and had his hair fashionably short with a top knot. Had this situation not happened we would never have spoken to each other. In the event, what could have been a grim inconvenience turned out to be an enjoyable interlude. In future, when I think of New Years Eve 2018, I’ll prefer to think of this.