After the bit of a Fall conference that I managed to catch, and which didn't rank as one of my finest moments of public speaking and writing, I had a wander round Manchester for two hours, a city of which I am wholly ignorant. From this brief acquaintance I noted cleanliness, vaguely European hanging around and civic pride & pomp, and many, many luxury flats, often with derelict red brick buildings next to them. So the only thing on which I feel qualified to comment is the fantastic building you see above - Gateway House, a long, curving block leading off Piccadilly station. It's apparently the work of Colonel Seifert, and if so ranks as one of his oddest and best works, certainly a damn sight better than his tossed-off blocks at Euston. It's also comfortingly shabby, and houses a grease-caff where you can get a palatable all-day breakast for 3 quid. You wouldn't be able to do that in Euston.