Manchester’s Queer Underground — HUNGER’s guide to the city’s most progressive spaces
Forget Dalston Superstore. If you’re queer and want a grand old time, you need to head up North and do a whistlestop tour of where the girls and the gays reign supreme: Manchester. Okay, we’re being a bit hyperbolic — like everywhere in the UK, Manchester is by no means a fantastical utopia for the gays. It is, however, steeped in LGBT history and quickly becoming the queer place to be outside of the capital. And if you’re going to Depot Mayfield for a legendary club night like HOMOBLOC, it’s well worth hitting up some of the city’s most progressive spaces. From coffee houses to drink spots, this is how to do 24 hours in Manchester (featuring some tidbits of how HUNGER did it, too).
First (and obviously) get to Manchester. Already live there? Fine. This bit isn’t applicable to you. But if, like myself, you hail from London, you need to hop on a train laden with travel snacks panic-bought from Euston station and pivot between napping and chatting to the old couple next to you, who are also laden with various food items. They had two egg sandwiches, actually. I thought that was quite sweet — like they’ve been together so long they coordinate what gives them sustenance. Anyway, of most vital importance is to nap. You’ve got a long night ahead of you.
Pull into Manchester avec your suitcase (definitely not necessary if you’re staying one night) and take a short stroll to your home for the night — the Manchester Marriott Hotel Piccadilly. It’s an easy sell on this one. The staff are absolutely lovely (special shoutout to the vivacious man who took care of our luggage), there’s a cracking little bar just off the lobby, and it’s a stones throw from both Depot Mayfield and Manchester station. Our bed (and room in general) was also huge. We loved the bathroom particularly. It was like a pristinely clean version of something out of Dune.
If there is one thing to bear in mind it’s that, like all hotels to have ever existed, check-in at The Marriott is at 3pm. If you arrive a whole lot earlier than that (as we did) you should probably have the foresight to do your makeup before. We did ours in the lobby’s disabled toilet. Not our first choice, let’s just say that. By the way, if you do fancy something a little more boutique for your stay up North, it’s got to be Native Manchester. Consisting of 162 chic rooms in the Grade II listed Ducie Street Warehouse, there’s an equally chic lounge, restaurant, bar, all-day deli counter, takeaway shop, cinema and outdoor terrace. You can even do a BLOK fitness class if you’re that way inclined. And what about if you fancy a queer event? Sorted. Head over on the 22nd of November, for example, and you’ll find the Manchester Queer Makers Christmas Market. Clue’s in the name with that one.
Back to the whistlestop tour, though. Make-up on, it’s time to soak up some LGBT history while you’re not too hungover to take it all in — we’re heading to Canal Street. Obvious? Perhaps. But though this guide is all about spotlighting the underrated gems of Manchester’s queer scene, I feel like you kind of have to go. Plus, it’s better going earlier in the day — before the hen parties take over and it’s less safe space, more straight place. Take a stroll, passing The New Union (which became the place for lesbians and gay men to meet up back in the 1950s) and the site which used to house Manto, a once progressive club that a lot of people herald as being behind Canal Street’s commercialisation. Take a look at that – and perhaps a few of the other spots on Manchester’s LGBTQ+ Trail, which are marked by plaques – then get the hell out of there.
Now you’re equipped with plenty of queer history, it’s time to hit up the spots where it’s happening in the here and now. For a bite to eat, there’s a slew of places to choose from. Head to Erst for natural wine and seasonal small plates (it’ll be like you never left Hackney), Madre for some mexican near Canal Street, Ramona for Detroit-style pizza, Onda for fresh pasta, or Medlock Canteen for bistro-style fare. And Manchester’s hidden gem of a restaurant? 10 Tib Lane.
Next up, it’s the pre to the pre. For that, you’re heading to DIECAST MCR, which is also a stones throw from Depot Mayfield. Normally, DIECAST MCR is a kind of beer hall. It’s the place to go for bottomless brunches (if you’re into that), karaoke (ditto) and BBQ food (they’ve got a smokehouse in their garden). When we went, however, it was the MTV x HOMOBLOC Brunch Royale. Picture the scene: we walk in, stone-cold sober, only to be met by the sight of a drag queen doing a death drop. We are led to our table and plonked down next to some other people that look not quite drunk enough for this, also taken aback by the theatrics taking place a few yards in front of them.
Actually, though, it was great. My mate got a picture with the likes of Bimini Bon Boulash (who performed her new song, “Take It All”) and Tayce, while I stood there, looking like a fool, repeatedly asking if they wanted the flash — they did. We then watched regular punters take part in a lip-sync battle – I could never, no-matter how drunk – then ordered a pizza that was ignored when it arrived because we’d got too into the free-flowing drinks. I went for about five glasses of prosecco and I can confirm that everyone our mum’s age is onto something — it’s a great tipple. Then we took advantage of the free photobooth, getting about five different strips of photos (none of which were nice), before heading to the smoking area. There, I had a lengthy conversation with a man who’d recently gone to Turkey for a hair transplant. He showed me photos of the before and after, then even took it upon himself to show me his sister’s boob job.
It’s time to leave DIECAST MCR. And after a couple of hours of drag, you’re probably itching for a change of pace. Stick with us now, but we reckon this is the opportune time to do something a bit un-gay. As in, perhaps the gayest thing you could now do, is do something really straight. Introducing The Peveril of the Peak, a Manchester institution of a pub that’s, well, just that — a proper pub. Head there – you won’t be able to miss it thanks to its beautiful yellow exteriors – and sink a couple of pints. I would like to say that we soaked up the atmosphere of The Peveril of the Peak (which, by the way, was a brothel during the second world war), but unfortunately we got roped into The Bull’s Head, which is also near the station. How to describe The Bull’s Head? The drinks are cheap, they’ve got about twenty different varieties of gin (which I talked to the barmaid about at length), and while we were in there, some lads came up and said they’d like to see me and my mate “eat each other’s lettuce”. I had a brilliant time. When I told my one Mancunian friend I was in there, he asked why.
All things said, if boozers aren’t your thing, there are a wealth of super queer-friendly bars around the city. There’s a special place in our heart for SOUP, a canteen, bar and alternative music venue (it’s often host to nights built around queer, trans and non-binary DJs) right in the heart of Manchester’s Northern Quarter. There’s also Feel Good Club (again, keep an eye out for queer-centric nights on their Instagram) as well as Partisan Collective, which is all about community-led, DIY nights. And this list wouldn’t be complete without a mention of Derby Brewery Arms. Though it looks like an unassuming pub from the outside, it wouldn’t be a stretch to say that it’s the hub of Manchester’s underground music scene. A self-proclaimed “inclusive space for all”, head there in the summer and you can spend hours on end in their “Queer Garden” experiencing lengthy techno sets by the crème de la crème of Mancunian DJs.
Right, back to the Marriott (or adjacent hotel). It’s makeup touch-up time. Pop a bit of glitter on, because if there’s any time to do so, it’s fucking now. I actually put a bit too much on my eyelids, then spent the entirety of the night getting quite pissed off by the little fleck of white I could see in the corner of my eye. Then change into something more HOMOBLOC — not necessarily harnesses, or something overtly gay, but it wouldn’t go amiss to pop on some colour, or something a little slutty. I went for shorts. With tights, obviously. We’re up North. And the time has come. Pop on your jacket (and tune into that beer jacket) and do the short walk to Depot Mayfield for HOMOBLOC.
HOMOBLOC isn’t your average queer party. Taking over Manchester’s Depot Mayfield for 13 hedonistic hours, it’s where underground meets overground, where drag queens carry protest signs and trans performers strip on catwalks in front of 10,000 people. Born in 2019 from legendary club night Homoelectric, it’s grown into a proper cultural moment, attracting heavy hitters like Honey Dijon and Peaches while staying true to its northern, anti-establishment roots. It’s messy, it’s political, and, despite what I said earlier, it’s probably the closest thing the UK has to a queer utopia.
And my experience of HOMOBLOC? It was absolutely brilliant. As soon as we got into the queue, we became pally with two older ladies that we definitely didn’t expect to see on such a night. Hey, HOMOBLOC is for all. Anyway, we bumped into them about ten times during our lengthy stretch inside the cavernous former railway station. By the end of the night, it could be said that we were actively avoiding them. We also made friends with a girl who ended up being my right-hand woman for the night, and it was only at about 3am that it dawned on us that she’d likely come to this event alone. Bit weird? Nope. Again, it’s what HOMOBLOC is all about. But we danced, scurried around Depot Mayfield’s five large-scale rooms like little rats, and got sweaty amongst the hordes of topless men while everyone from Ruby Savage to Shygirl to Chloé Caillet laid down unforgettable sets. I’d like to be able to go into more detail on each of their stints behind the decks, but I’d be lying if I said I was completely compus mentus. One thing’s for sure, though, and that’s that a good time was had. When me and my mate awoke the next morning, we were in resounding agreement that it was one of those nights where everything just hit.
It was so good, in fact, that it would have been quite easy to stay even longer than we did. Alas, at about 3am – when the beer didn’t taste quite so delicious and one of the older ladies said something that could be construed as fatphobic – it was time to go back to The Marriott… Here’s a Trainspotting-esque guide on what to do when you’re back there (or equivalent hotel). Walk through the doors, a bit googley-eyed. Get questioned by security who think you’re trying to sneak into the hotel (fair enough). Order a Deliveroo that forces you to sculk through the lobby in the (very plush) hotel robe and (very comfortable) slippers. Remove makeup. Brush teeth. Brush tongue. Gag a bit. Regret brushing your tongue. Eat McDonalds (or something equally as horrible) while remembering to save a Chicken Select (or two) for the morning. Realise you already brushed your teeth. Decide to forgo another tooth brushing session for the night. Watch numerous episodes of Gogglebox. Realise it’s so late that it’s one of those episodes with the sign language person in the corner. Go to sleep.
Rise and shine! We’d advise asking for a slightly later checkout after a night like HOMOBLOC. The front desk staff at the Marriott are angels about this sort of thing — they’ve seen it all before, and they saw you grab that McDonalds at just before 4am. Then, stumble down to Koffee Pot, a proper Manchester institution that’s been serving hungover cures since 1978. If you’re after avocado toast and oat flat whites (which, let’s face it, you’re not) this isn’t the place for you. Koffee Pot is hearty fare that will sort you out — go for their full English (they do Scottish and Irish versions, too) or, if you can stomach it, their Reuben sandwich. And if the idea of ingesting more alcohol doesn’t make saliva start to form in your mouth, they’ve got you covered with everything from Bloody Micheladas to picklebacks made with homemade pickle juice.
Once you’re sufficiently greased-up, it’s time to do the kind of retail therapy that wouldn’t fly if you were of a fully sound mind. First, drag yourself to Eastern Bloc Records, Manchester’s longest-running independent dance music store. This place has been around since ‘85, and they know their stuff — whether you’re after house, techno or drum and bass, they’ll bloody have it. Maybe you could even pick up some vinyl to commemorate your favourite set last night (providing you can remember it). Then, it’s time for your final stop before boarding the train home. It’s kind of obligatory this one — Queer Lit. Opened in 2023 on Great Ancoats Street, it’s the kind of bookshop the gays deserve, home to over 4,500 titles celebrating every shade of the rainbow. Buy a book to read on the train (massively ambitious) and make sure it’s something that will simultaneously signal your queerness while making the person next to you do a double-take.
It’s time to head back to the station. Once you’re on the train (and you’ve done about ten minutes of performative reading), you can pass out against the window, possibly still with a bit of glitter somewhere on your person, and dream about your next trip up North. London’s great and all, but Manchester’s got something special going on.
