And so today I travelled  two hundred and fifty miles to Manchester.  Tiredness has crept into me like a homeless person.   “Would  you like some chocolate with that” asks the man in Euston station’s newsagent.   A multinational is forcing its workers to take a last minute swipe at my wallet.  It’s called Point of Sale.  POS:  It’s plain wrong.   The service on the train’s the same  “you can get a coffee deal for an extra ninety five pence.”  Really!  I don’t want a coffe deal  for an extra ninety five pence.

I arrive in my  home city and it is gorgeous.  The sun’s shining. I check in to The City Inn
 and eventually walk to Albert Square where a marquis is set up for The Manchester International Festival. Here I meet author and colleague Jackie Kay.  We read together to a sold out audience followed by a question and answer session led by the amazing DJ and friend Dave Haslam.  I sleep soundly at the hotel. I should be here a few days so I can see more than a stage and an hotel room.