My sister and I took our mixed
feelings of sadness and relief to Monton Village in the hope of finding some solace
in nostalgia as well as somewhere for a light lunch in that suburb of Eccles
and erstwhile site of our secondary school, where much has changed in the
intervening forty-five years, and our schooldays catering choice of a ham balmcake
from the bakers or six-pen’orth of chips from the chippy has blossomed into
quite a hot spot of café culture, from which we chose the Blind Pig “coffee,
bar, kitchen”; the food quality was excellent though the chef may be as short sighted as the pig as our requests for no avocado on my club sandwich and no lemon mayo
on my sister’s ciabatta both went unseen.
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