'Know what you mean cupcake. For me, it's rain on grey slate roofs (they're all red or beige tiled where I live now), the beautiful and unexpected Barton Arcade, St Anne's Square at Christmas, also the Refuge Assurance building (my mum once worked there as an insurance clerk), the mighty Midland (my cousin was a bell hop there), posh lunch in the Danish Food Centre on Corporation St (?), Grey Mare Lane market of a Saturday, the gasometer you saw from the top of the bus along the way there, the Bobs at Belle Vue, school trip to Bakewell, the rag and bone men, the coal man's horse, Terry the chirpy milkman who whistled snatches from 'Carmen', the aroma of coffee from the Gaggia machine in Lorenzini's ice cream parlour on Cheetham Hill Rd, the smell of the Cheshire cheese wheel in Ashley's the grocers on same road, sugar poured out into blue paper bags, loose Danish butter cut off the block and wrapped in greaseproof paper, stealing currants from the sack in front of the counter in Redman's (I was a toddler, 'thought they'd been put there so's kids could help themselves), the taste of candy floss and the smell of diesel at the travelling funfairs, the bonfire night when they'd set the fire too close to someone's gable end and cracked the wall, could go on forever but I'll put it all in my next book!