Stockport - A Sort of Homecoming

Category: Art, Exhibitions, Museums, Literature.

My Twitter name may quote a Morrissey reference to Manchester, but scratch the surface and I’m a Stopfordian. For the uninitiated that means I’m from Stockport, seven miles down the road, and - although we told everyone we met on holiday we were from Manchester - trips to the big city were pretty limited growing up. The Christmas lights would draw us in once a year (amid much cursing about parking), but otherwise we stayed firmly in the SK postcodes.

Strange or perhaps inevitable then that, since moving away from the town 12 years ago, I’ve barely ventured back there. To the point that it’s become ridiculous: working in the arts and heritage sector it’s impossible to ignore the amount of development that’s taken place. So one sunny day I decide to embrace my Stockport roots, and take the short train ride from Piccadilly.

Having spotted Hat Works hundreds of times from the famed railway viaduct it seems the obvious place to start. Like all locals I know that Stockport was a leading hatting town, once boasting 40 factories, so it’s fitting it now houses the country’s only hat museum. Entry is free so I’m straight into the 400-strong hat gallery, which includes the world’s tallest topper and the steel-lined head gear of Charles I’s condemner.

As a girl who loves an accessory I’m intrigued by the decorative, functional and ceremonial hats, Fred Dibnah’s cap and Ainsley’s toque among them. Repro bowlers and boaters can be tried for size but I daren’t be drawn in, as a guided tour of the recreated factory (£2.65) promises to take me through the production process. As a vegetarian I’m slightly disturbed that Stockport specialised in felting fur but it’s great to see the renovated machines, many of them engineered locally.

Emerging onto the A6 I head past the baroque Town Hall to Stockport Art Gallery, a favoured teenage destination. One glimpse of ‘Reggie’s Roller Palace’ tells me that things have changed, Olivia Brown’s installation featuring 100 life-sized ceramic hounds enjoying an all-American roller-competition! Intended as a comment on celebrity culture it is the latest in a series by Brown at the gallery, which is free to enter and serves as the town’s war memorial.

After finding my great uncle’s name on the roll of honour I peruse the permanent collection, which includes Jacob Epstein and Lowry, and am sorely tempted by contemporary local work in the Art Link ‘try before you buy’ scheme. Upstairs, this year’s Mad About Books show exhibits local children’s lively creations, inspired by their favourite books.

Heading into the town centre I can’t walk past the Plaza, the listed 1932 cinema where I’ve heard the cafe has just been restored. Almost wholly staffed by volunteers, the venue reopened a decade ago after years as a bingo hall, and has recently undergone a £3m lottery-funded restoration.

Sadly the auditorium is in use so I can’t sneak a peek, but the first floor lounge is a revelation. A tuxedoed maitre-d shows me to a Lloyd Loom table in 1930s-green, where the afternoon tea menu fights the Deco plasterwork for attention. I quickly give in to temptation and the Ladies’ Tea, with ‘dainty sandwiches’ and a home-made clotted cream scone, is as wonderful as it sounds.

The soothing jazz tones make it difficult to leave but my 30s-mania should be further fuelled at the Air Raid Shelters, a mile-long network cut into sandstone Chestergate just before World War II. I last visited 20 years ago and was shown round by a former ARP warden but tours are now self-guided during the week (£4.05), allowing me to get emotional at the sight of the benches, bunks and flushable loos where my nana sang Roll Out the Barrel. Known as the Chestergate Hotel for their amenities, ‘the caves’ were Britain’s largest purpose-built civilian shelters when they opened; but I can still only imagine what it must have been like to spend night after night here.

Passing Tudor landmarks The Three Shires and Underbank Hall I head up the steep brow to Market Place, chartered 750 years ago and one of the north-west’s last traditional street markets. With the Victorian Market Hall and many surrounding buildings recently restored, it looks like a film set on this quiet non-market day (as it once was, for Richard Gere’s Yanks).

The jewel in its crown is Staircase House, home to one of only three remaining Jacobean cage-newel staircases but a tatty café in my day. To my shame I never ventured in, and therefore failed to see the staircase before much of it was destroyed by fire in 1995. A ten-year restoration of the whole site followed, and £4.05 now gets me an audio guide and barrier-free access. Founded in 1460, most of the convincing sets recreate the extended 1600s house, with the final rooms illustrating later habitation.

Next door, the free and accessible Stockport Story answers any questions I might still have about this historic town, taking me from prehistoric settlement through its medieval markets and Victorian industrial boom. As I head into the 20th century, past stained glass designed by William Morris and Strawberry Studios memorabilia, I’m disconcerted to see my prized personal stereo in the 80s display; it’s official, I’m part of Stockport history.

The café, created from a reclaimed Victorian shop-front, is being renovated so I set off for the station, but can’t resist nipping down higgledy Cooper’s Brow for a look at Hillgate. My youthful haunts are all gone though and I feel guilty after my absorbing day - why have I stayed away so long? By the time I get off the train I’ve made a list of destinations for a planned repeat visit - Stopfordian husband in tow.

A combined entry ticket is available for Stockport Air Raid Shelters, Staircase House and Bramall Hall for £10.50. Most Stockport attractions are closed on Mondays.

Jo Nightingale is a freelance writer and arts PR living in Manchester city centre, and has written for Creative Tourist, Manchester Confidential and Big Issue in the North.