Read my Cornwall travel logue here.

The thirty-first city on my list is the North-Western city of Salford which you will find 178 miles from London.

Salford has a simple enough etymology. As we all know by now, the ford means a shallow river crossing while the “sal” means willow trees so Salford refers to a river crossing by the willow trees. The river in question is the Irwell. Salford also once had a thriving textile industry similar to Bradford.

My journey to Salford began at 11.13 at the nightmare which is Euston Station. Unlike with Milton Keynes, I made sure not to miss my train. In fact, I was in my seat long before my train left.

Interestingly, the ticket inspector just did a visual check of my ticket and didn’t even ask to see my railcard. A lesson to those who like to push their luck. Anyway, two hours later, I was arriving at Manchester Piccadilly, where I would be taking another train to Salford Central. At least that was the idea. Manchester Piccadilly was the Euston of the north with no clear information signs. Thankfully there was plenty of staff to ask and one of them helpfully pointed me to platform fourteen where I could catch my train.

This is where my brain stopped working and I tried boarding a train on platform nine. An engineer yelled at me to get off before it left. In fairness, he was apologetic about it afterwards and it was the completely wrong train. I finally navigated my way to platform fourteen where I had to take the 2pm train to Manchester Victoria and then another train to Salford.

It was peculiar because the Manchester Victoria train went through Salford Central without actually stopping there. And I had to get a train back to Salford. It was only afterwards I realised it was only a 15-30 minute walk from the train stations. Anyway, I arrived at Salford at 14.18 and I turned right out the station. This is where I became confused. Instead of seeing signage for Salford, I saw a sign for Manchester. Walking a bit further, I saw a sign for Manchester cathedral.

After stumbling upon the River Irwell and a statue of Ghandi

I found Manchester Cathedral. Unlike Wells or Salisbury it was free to enter. And unlike Gloucester or Norwich, it wasn’t set up to Catholic guilt you into donating. The cathedral was very attractive with a special exhibition about forts in India (I don’t remember why, but it also had some very pretty stained-glass)

After this, I walked around the city centre and saw lots more signage that confirmed I was in Manchester. Not Salford.

Thoroughly confused, I returned to the station suspecting I had taken a wrong turn somewhere. This is when I found the old Salford Cinema, Salford Cathedral (which was closed for renovation) and the dilapidated Salford Arms pub.

Indeed, I had taken a wrong turn.

Meanwhile, my stomach was making dying whale noises so I was choosing between two options for lunch. Jerk chicken or a nice burger. While I was craving a burger, I wanted something more special considering I was in Salford so I got some jerk chicken, rice and peas from Caribbean Flavas right by the station.

I ate it in the confusingly named nearby Islington Park (there is an Islington in North London) and the meal wasn’t anything special. I thought it would have a nice spice but it was pretty bland. By now it was half three and I only had a couple hours before my train home. You might be wondering why I was in Salford for such a short time. Well, dear reader, I messed up in buying my train tickets. I didn’t realise the unideal train times until afterwards. It is what it is.

But what would I do now? I liked the idea of going to the Salford Quays, but they were an hour walk away. Instead I walked in that general direction where I saw a spectacular view of another branch of the river Irwell.

I also found signage for Peel park and Salford museum. That would be my next stop. But instead I reached Peel park which was part of the campus for the University of Salford.

It was time for my nature walk. I headed down to the riverfront where I got to feed some geese. You could say they were all eating out of the palm of my hand. They were very happy to see me. One goose ran toward me, its mouth agape, like it knew I was about to feed it. A definite highlight of the trip.

The park itself was very pretty if wet and muddy. I’m sure it would look spectacular in the summer. At four-thirty, I headed back where I realised in my eagerness to feed the geese, I completely missed going to Salford museum.

Alas it was closed. I wouldn’t have had time anyway as I needed to get my train back to Manchester.

At 17.03, that’s exactly what I was doing. Ten minutes later, I was in Manchester Victoria and getting very confused by the station. I had no idea where I would get my train to Manchester Piccadilly. Thankfully, the station staff were there to paint me in the right direction. Good thing they did as there was only one train an hour. If I had missed that, I would have been stuffed. Although, in hindsight, I could have walked.

Anyway, at 17.40, I was on the train to Manchester Piccadilly where, unlike on the way here, I easily found my 18.14 train back to London. Just like Chester, I was worry that I wasn’t in Salford for longer. I was there for less than three hours. Once I found Peel Park, it was very pleasant and I would have enjoyed looking around the museum at cathedral too.

Who am I to complain? I got to see two cities, Manchester and Salford, for the price of one. I later learned that the two cities are adjacent and it is easy to walk from one to the other. It reminded me of the cities of Westminster and London. You can cross from one to the other without realising. It’s the same with Salford and Manchester.

Anyway, that wraps up my afternoon *cough cough* two and a half hours in Salford. It’s a shame I wasn’t there for longer, but maybe I’ll be back one day. Although not anytime soon and I will just get the train to Manchester and walk from there. It was a day of confusing train station, baffling city centres and feeding geese. I only have four cities left to go. Preston. You’re next.