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Classic pub chokes on clean air
“We’ve been down £60k since the start of the smoking ban,” said Damien Smethurst, landlord of one of Sleuth’s favourite authentic drinking dens, The Castle, on Oldham Street. “We only had the area out the front for smokers, no garden or anything, so it’s hit us hard.” Thus a pub which has been nominated for the Pub of the Year 2008, will die today, sunk under a welter of bills and lack of business. Sleuth will miss it. It was a bit of a mess (blame Robinsons, the brewery for not spending refurb money) but it was a homely pub and a haven for unreconstructed Northern Quarter drinking: plus a bolthole of musicians such as Liam Frost, Stephen Fretwell and mosaic man Mark Kennedy to name a few. Sleuth wishes the best of luck to Damien.
The Castle part 2
When a pub goes, a lot goes with it. Often a lot of individuality. At the Castle you got a mosaic of Kathy, Damien’s mum, on the wall over the bar with her ashes worked into the cement (oh yes, indeed), a big Czech Republic flag (the pub had been adopted by the latter fans in the 1996 Euro Championships), a snug with Damien’s maverick selection of books, a big music room, a urinal flushed by an external drainpipe, a complete range of Stockport brewery Robinsons ales (this is the only Robbies pub in the city centre) and a resident ghost.
Pretty American girls
Two stories amongst many stick out for Sleuth during the Smethurst’s tenure at the Castle. Once Sleuth had the good fortune to take twenty gorgeous American air hostesses around Manchester. They wanted a real pub, so Sleuth went to the Castle. As beauty after beauty sashayed from the snug past the indie band in the music room to the Ladies (unfortunately sited on the other side of the stage) the band slowly ground to a halt, “we can’t fucking compete with this?” said the singer. Later one of the hostesses said, “Your English sense of humour is like so funny, are you born with it or do you learn it?” Sleuth thought for a minute, “We learn it. There are classes at school. I was always late for Timing.”
Grubby British journalists
On another occasion a man in his fifties in a raincoat sidled over to Sleuth in the Castle. He had voice like a car starting up. “Hey, you’re Sleuth aren’t you? I write for the Daily Sport round the corner. Always fancied doing a bit of food writing and was wondering if I could do some for you. I know my ravioli from my ratatouille.” Sleuth looked unconvinced. “Listen, I could take a pretty bird, get a few photographs, spice it up a bit,” said the Sport hack desperately.
The Village battle won
As the Castle dies, Mark Cain and his crew at Velvet are celebrating. They have won planning permission to open a 20-bedroom boutique hotel above their well-known and well-loved bar and nosherie on Canal Street – click here - for the story. The timetable for opening is ambitious, sometime in December. Nigel Martin-Smith of Essential and Queer who led a campaign to get permission refused didn’t turn up and made no representations at the hearing. Take that, as Cain might say.
Pride splits
Meanwhile Sleuth is hearing rumours that Manchester Pride might have a competitor this August. The festival, once a byword for chaos and back-biting, has been run far more efficiently in the last couple of years. Seems that still doesn’t satisfy some locals, who are planning a fringe alternative this time around in protest against what they see as the increased commercialisation of the main event. Sleuth isn’t holding his breath and doesn’t quite know what they mean but has sent out a Confidential correspondent to get the full story. We’ll keep you posted.
Sleuth and jazz
This is a picture of Manchester Jazz Festival in St Ann's Square. Sleuth thinks jazz is best enjoyed photographically.

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Odder Ronson grinds to a halt
Sleuth was out last weekend when Jay-Z made his surprise visit to Ithaca restaurant and bar (click here). Mark Ronson also made a Manchester stop-off at the slightly more random Odder on Oxford Road. The trans-Atlantic music producer and professional mumbler mingled with the regulars who paid a fiver each for the pleasure. He was joined by rapper, Wiley who gave a rendition of 'Wearing my Rolex' wearing a Casio. By 1am, Sleuth noted that Ronson was looking worse for wear. So still wearing the same sweaty outfit he’d worn at the Jay Z gig and after several Odder sound system failures, he decided to call it a night. Rumour has it that the pair then joined Jay-Z at Ithaca for £100 shots and no doubt a complimentary Rolex.
Borelesque act
The Circle Club hosted their second birthday party last week with a burlesque treat in store for guests. The night was good fun, but shame that the burlesque act, a Manc version of Ditta Von Teese came only equipped with her tease. Despite several requests this girl was not for moving. Not a hip jiggle, not a nipple tassle toss. Nothing. She sat like an ice-maiden in her giant champagne flute. Sleuth asked her for a little wiggle at least. She just managed enough movement in her mouth muscles to say: “I was told I just have to sit here until 1 o'clock.” Sleuth swears she nearly nodded off at one point.
Probing investigations
Sleuth was at the press conference for new Greater Manchester Chief Constable, Peter Fahy, on Wednesday – who takes up his position in November. He couldn’t believe the quality of questions from Manchester’s finest and the nationals. Some bright spark in the press pack asked this gem, “Do you think it important that a man in your position has an unblemished past?” The ex-Cheshire Police boss looked puzzled by the inanity of it all. Confidential bon viveur, Gordo, who’d come along for the ride, leaned over to Sleuth and whispered, “What? He’s hardly going to say, ‘Well I’ve been a bit shifty but those three deaths in that Knutsford nick weren’t my fault …honest. Now has anybody got any blow?’”

Tiling solutions
Sleuth asked the new Chief Constable if he could send a copper down Spear Street and Back Piccadilly near the Confidential offices at least a couple of times a year. The last time one visited Queen Victoria was on the throne. The open drug-taking and dealing round here is prolific: an enterprising policeman could collect collars for fun. Fahy promised to free as many police from desk duties and get them out and about. We'll keep an eye out for them. Not that it’s just the dealing. Later that evening Confidential Chairman – Chairman How – said the solution to the mess that takes place in the Northern Quarter back streets is to tile them right across the street and up the walls to head height. Then we could just swill ‘em down.
Click image in enlarge
Proposed Northern Quarter tiling scheme
Sleuth’s environmental blackmail of the week
Message in Link cash machines about not taking a receipt – ‘Save the Planet, save paper’. Yep, not getting a receipt should do it. Wonder if it saves the banks a bit of money on buying paper as well?
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