Having been dragged kicking and screaming all the way to Manchester in 2007 by my then-fiancée (now husband, mwah ha ha) I have since found that it’s not all flat caps and whippets, and the people and places are actually mostly lovely (and they do a jolly fine pie & cider). When I’m not jiving in Stockport, haunting the indie clubs of Manchester or stalking cricket and rugby players, I can be found practising my black-belt skills in PR.