Guess where we went on Valentine's Night?

This year, Celia pulled a sneaky on me, and said she'd booked a hotel in Manchester for Valentine's Night, and I'd need a suit. Nothing else was disclosed, apart from lots of giggling as I looked puzzled. Hmmm. Cue a couple of weeks of headscratching and sneaking about on the internet googling Manchester and Valentines for clues.

So Valentine's Day comes, and still I don't know where I'm going. We get to Manchester to our usual hotel, the Premier Travel Inn near the MEN Arena, and a lovely room is allocated, ten floors up with a Manchester skyline view, and then Celia lets me know where we're going. Wehayyy!

"The view from the 10th floor"

A Valentine's Night meal and tour at Old Trafford Football Club, home of Manchester United. You beauty!! Very naughty of her but brilliant! We celebrate with champers (oh the decadence) and get dressed up to the nines; one bizarre taxi ride later (hey mate we're not tourists round here but I'll let it go) we're at the South Stand of OT, being welcomed through to the second floor. It's now that it's all beginning to sink in. I see couples sat at tables with a pitchside view, with a girl playing the harp at the side of the room. We're eventually shown where we're sitting... not with the others but in our own executive box for the night (no 2205, numbers fans). Wow! Just halfway between the away corner and the old tunnel.

"Do you know any Nirvana?"

Before we have a chance to finish our drinks, we're whisked away on a mini tour of the South Stand of OT by our nice bloke-guide Ray, starting with a seat in the stand, before we're shown down to the pitchside to the dugout, home of Fergie and playing staff, and invited to sit in their seats. For some bizarre reason, I can't bring myself to sit in Sir Alex's seat (I'm not worthy!) so we settle for the seats on the row in front... and very comfy they are too. And heated so little Ronaldo's bottie won't get cold.

"Pitchside"

"The new coaching staff reconsider whether putting Fletcher upfront was a good idea"

"The oldest part of the stadium. No, not me, the tunnel."

We then go down the old player's tunnel (the oldest surviving part of the ground, fact fans) through to the player's lounge, where the players meet up prior to the match, and where we could see interesting plaques on the walls such as these:

"Ahhh, Denis"

"and from the sublime to the ridiculous... this below"

Then we meandered through to the players changing room, where we could see each players peg and the baths. Didn't see any stained walls where Fergie might have thrown his cup of tea at half time though.

"Shortly before the tea throwing incident"

"Fancy a bath?"

We then went down from the changing room to the new tunnel where you can see the area where after match interviews take place (or not if you're the BBC and want to talk to Fergie), then we lined up as two teams would on a match day, United and Arsenal side by side and went out into the stadium to the prerecorded crowdnoise from a matchday. Yeahhhhhhh. This is the stuff. Just like a European night.

"Celia is not talking to the BBC"

"I'll talk to anybody"

As you can see above, I managed to sneak a foot onto the hallowed turf (oh what a rebel) before we were beckoned inside back to our box, for a fabulous three course meal:

Pork, Wine & Wild Mushroom Pate (Leek & Potato Soup with Rarebit dumpling for Ceals)

Herb Crusted Rack Of Lamb & Tagliatelle Pasta with a Tomato, Bean & Parmesan Stew

Hot Chocolate Fondant With Vanilla Ice Cream & Tulie Biscuits to share

Bloody gorgeous. And that's just Celia. This was really one of the loveliest most romantic things that she could have done, and I love her for it.

"Gorgeous"

The drinks waitress was fab and kept nipping back to our box to check on the score of the Bolton - Arsenal FA Cup match which we had on the TV (as had all the other couples in the boxes next door after we had ours on!) and Celia & I had a lovely time. We were to be turfed out by 11, and true to form we were probably the last couple to leave at around 10:40, foregoing the offer of a cab for a little walk down to the tramstop at the cricket ground for drinkies back in town.

We had a quick one (drink that is) in the Varsity on Oxford Road, before retiring to our default choice of haunt at the Fab Cafe on Portland Street, for a few drinkies in the company of a Dalek and photos of the Fonz.

"Heyyyyyyyyyyy!"

"Is that a tentacle in your pocket or are you pleased to see me?"

"Shortly after this photo was taken, Darren was sucked into the Vortex"

We then staggered off at around 2 in the morning back to the hotel, on the way to which Celia decided to dance up and down the steps near Selfridges & the Triangle, whilst I rebelliously knocked over a roadsign. Phew! Rock & roll! What happened when we got back to the room is not for publication, regardless to say that she (that's enough!! - Celia's voice).

"The morning after"

"The 10th floor morning view of.. a glamourous car park"

And the next day we checked out and before pottering around the city centre (my God how it's changed again over the last year!) we had our traditional breakfast in The Moon Under Water pub on Deansgate. Yum. Their brekkie sets you up for the day.

"A pub earlier today"

And that was that.. a gorgeous lovely gift from the woman I love. You can't get better, and it will never be forgotten.