July 18, Friday 

Today we did something amazing.  Online Adam found out about this place called Breakout Manchester, which has an incredibly cool concept.  They lock you (teams from 2 to 5 people) in a room and you have 60 minutes to solve a series of puzzles to escape.  The room we chose was called “Virus.”

The back-story is that a horrible virus has wiped out most of humanity, including the scientists who created a vaccine to cure it.  Alas, they were unable to use their own creation before succumbing to the deadly plague.  Our job was to enter the laboratory, find the vaccine, and escape.  We had 60 minutes before the virus we’ve been exposed to will set in and be incurable.  We are humanity’s only hope.

The guy said go ahead and tear the room apart, looking for clues and puzzles.  Everything was fair game except for the electrical outlets.  He said, “People started trying to pry the electrical outlets open and that’s really dangerous.  So, the only thing I’ll tell you isn’t part of the game are the electrical outlets. I promise.  It’s NOT the electrical outlets.  We have to tell everyone that now before we lock you in.”

I won’t spoil the experience for anyone else by giving details of the game, but it was FUN.  They have created a very unique, incredibly cool experience here.  We all had such a fantastic time we tried to book for another room tomorrow, but they were full.  (We wanted to do the Detective Office:  “John Monroe was a famous detective. Sadly he was murdered in his office and you are being framed as his killer. You are on the run and have gained access to his office, the crime scene, for one hour. Can you save yourself by finding out who killed him, why someone killed him and how they killed him?”)

The guy said about 60% of people escape the Detective Room, and only 40% escape the Virus Room.  We chose the Virus Room because it was a little harder.

I’m very proud to report that we escaped!! … with 2 minutes 54 seconds to spare.  It was a real squeaker.  A huge countdown clock is on the wall, and when you get down to 10 minutes the numbers turn bright red and start flashing.  We stumbled out of there sweaty and with our hearts racing.  But we got to hold the “I ESCAPED” signs of honor and get our picture taken for their Facebook page.

Reminiscing about Breakout Manchester was our only topic of conversation throughout the rest of the day.  We didn’t have any afternoon plans and came across a movie theater, so we went in after lunch and saw How to Train Your Dragon 2 in 3D.  It was pretty good. As Isabella noted on the way out, “Sequels are usually disappointing, but this one wasn’t.”  It’s a gorgeous film with a few plot holes, but they aren’t so gaping that they ruin the overall story.  On a normal day, seeing this movie in 3D would have been the highlight, but nothing is going to compare to our Breakout morning.

July 19, Saturday

Last night at 3:21 a.m., I woke up to a torrential downpour coming through the bedroom window.  I scrambled up and shut all the windows in the apartment, then had a hard time getting back to sleep.

The apartment we’ve rented in Manchester reminds me of being in college, for all the bad reasons.  It’s the kind of depressing apartment you tolerate during your empty-pocket college years by looking forward to your brighter future and knowing the depressing apartment is only a temporary stepping-stone on your way to your “real” life.  Futon mattresses on the floor, no television, no dishwasher, no microwave, a stairwell lit with sputtering fluorescent lightbulbs and reeking of 40+ years of stale cigarette smoke.  You can’t close the master bedroom door because the knob is broken off on the inside.  Still, you’re grateful to have a bedroom door because there is no door at all to the bathroom.  You have to open the adjacent closet to sort of block the door hole, and announce, “Nobody come in!  I’m naked in here!” and then listen to everyone else groan, “Eww, that’s so gross!”  The noise from the neighbors is constant, even when they aren’t really doing anything.  Sound just travels through the walls.

The building itself is a giant concrete bunker, like something the Communists would have put up in the 70s.  It’s one saving grace are big windows that open wide and let in fresh air.  It also has a pretty garden in the back, although the garden is only accessible to the ground-floor apartments.  We’re on the second floor, so have to be content with just looking out at it.  Still, the view is pleasant.

This kind of place is fine … liberating, even … when you’re young and just starting out.  The lady who lives here, though, is our age.

You can glean quite a bit of information from looking around someone’s home, and I think her story is a sad one.  She has a little boy who, judging from the photos, is around 3 years old.  Aside from pictures of her son, every single other photo in the place is of herself as a young child in the 70s.  There is nothing from the in-between adult years.  It’s as though she’s decided to surround herself with pictures from the last time her life was happy and pretend the rest didn’t happen.

She has a strange collection of items in her apartment, too … mis-matched, chipped dishes that clearly came second-hand alongside high-end Waterford crystal wine glasses.  She has some really expensive first-edition books (classics, all … as Adam noted, nothing written after 1940 is on her shelves) and an extensive collection of old records, but no artwork, no nice furniture.  They are the possessions of someone who fled, taking only a few prized possessions and replacing everything else with stuff from thrift stores.

There is a gaping void in the front room where a TV clearly used to be.  What happened to it?  Pawned?  Broken?  Stolen?  We’ve got the idea that she’s a very well-educated, previously-affluent single mom starting over after the break-up of a marriage.  Now she’s living here with her toddler son, in a dingy apartment with no bathroom door.  I hope that this apartment represents freedom to her, too, and is a liberating stepping-stone into a better, happier future.  She keeps it scrupulously clean and well-orgnized, which is the sign of someone who has hope.

Anyway, the depressing environment hasn’t mattered much for the past few days since we’ve been out, but our planned activity for today was to visit a bird sanctuary.  With this much rain, we’re totally at loose ends.  We don’t cherish the thought of hanging out in this apartment all day, but can’t think of any indoor activities in Manchester that we haven’t already done (and can afford — they have an indoor skydiving place that looks really fun, but they want a lot of money.  Too much.  So that’s out.)

In the end, we went to the Manchester Museum of Science and Industry.  It had two things going for it:  it was indoors, and it was free.

A few random photos from the Science and Industry Museum:

It takes a lot of energy to power a radio.  You only get music when you pedal.

Josie’s turn!

Holden inspecting the hot air balloon demonstration.  He’s getting ideas.

Josie sitting behind the ticket counter of the world’s oldest train station.

Exterior shot of the train station.  It was Liverpool & Manchester Railway, “mankind’s first public transport system which did not use animal traction power.”  It opened in 1830, which seems so young and recent in light of other things we’ve seen in Scotland and England on this trip.   It’s amazing to think how recent these types of developments are.  The world has changed exponentially in the past 200 years.  I like this picture because it juxtaposes the old with the new … the age difference between these two buildings is probably only about 150 years.  Such a short time!!!

Some of the old trains.

An old car with brass fittings.  [Edit:  Adam tells me this is Rolls Royce #12.  I said, “Well, is it an old car with brass fittings?”  He said, “Technically, yes, but that’s like calling the Mona Lisa “a canvas with some paint on it.”“)

A kamikaze guided bomb glider the Japanese used in WWII.  This one was captured and brought to England for study.

Tomorrow we’re off to York.