Love will tear us apart

So there we were: Macclesfield. We stepped outta the station, crossed the street and walked into this very english pub only to ask for directions to the cemetery. "The cemetery?" - repeated the lady. At first I thought it was because of my strong foreign accent, that maybe I wasn't sounding too clear... Till I realized everybody else would repeat it exactly in the same tone whenever we got lost on the way (three or four other times). Locals actually wouldn't believe a couple of foreigners, with a total tourist look, would be in that nowhere town looking for the cemetery. And there we were. After some long stairs way up, four or five random roundabouts to cross and unclear directions to guide us through, in that sunny tuesday's end of afternoon, on April 19th, we finally managed to find the cemetery. At the entrance, some odd instructions hanging on a pretty empty, dirty and old bulletin board would lead us to the grave we were looking for. Cause love, love will tear us apart again...

A couple of hours before, walking on the streets of Manchester, after taking a look at what Haçienda had become, we found the Factory Club - former Factory Records. It was around noon and a guy was leaving and locking the place in a hurry... How surprised was he to find out we were brazilians on such a tour... Hurry didn't prevent him from showing us the place, then. 24 hour-party-people rock!