I was in Rochdale the other Sunday, Andy a friend, was running in the 10K race part of the town’s annual Half Marathon event. I was doing the vitally important task of taking care of his mobile phone.
Rochdale crouches in the shadow of the Pennines, the spine of high country which runs up the middle of England to just over the Border into Scotland, so there’s not a lot of level ground to be had. As Andy found out.
Race over, a creditable time was achieved and a pint was drunk in celebration. Then our thoughts turned to food and then to Pho. The richly filling combination of broth, noodles and beef. It became a favourite of Andy’s after a trip to Vietnam. So that decided it was a tram ride back into Manchester and to Chinatown. A quick walk from the tram stop on St. Peter’s Square took us to George Street, down the steps and into I Am Pho.
Some of my stuff.
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