The Road to Wigan Pier

I read the book in my twenties and finally I have made the pilgrimage. I liked Wigan town centre immediately. It was wide. The fact that it was grey and drizzly mattered nowt. I was expecting to see Dave Whelan (Chairman of Wigan FC)  from the top of the double decker bus! It took 1 hour and 15 minutes to get there from Piccadilly Gardens.

 

I had seen the signs for the Pier but thought I would look for the book first, see if I could pick up a copy in one of the many charity shops or perhaps find it in the Library. No success in either but I saw a copy in the Museum of Wigan life. This was a nice, cosy, little Museum, homely even! It utilised video to its best and I followed the history of the Wigan Casino avidly before plucking up the courage to ask directions to the pier.  It wasn't far. It was walkable. The lady told me that there was nothing there, no museum or heritage centre. All there was, was a crap filled canal and a pub called 'The Orwell'.

The area was surrounded by garages and a huge drive thru Dominoes Pizza Emporium. I was nearly run over by a motorist belting into one of the many out of town experiences dotted around this historical site. If the local council don't feel its worth investing in Orwell's heritage, what hope?

 The town library was space age, there was a fairly upbeat feel to the town centre but surrounded by the dark satanic mills, it felt like the town didn't really want to be associated with this part of its Industrial and Social History.  

I was confused, here was a place that could have had a heritage centre and a museum about George Orwell but instead were the symbols of how the 'working class' used to destroy themselves by hard graft and heavy drinking.

Once again I returned to Manchester under a doom laden cloud of my own making