Kya Buller

To my mind, Manchester has always seemed inseparable from its nightlife, much like that couple everyone thinks will never split up, only to be told that they’re going on a break. I spent so much of lockdown dreaming about the dancefloor. I mean that literally – on quite a few occasions I’d wake up, sure for a few seconds I’d been packed tightly in a crowd, until it would sink in that the club doors were still firmly bolted shut. I mean it figuratively too. I would talk to friends about it over and over, lamenting ‘I can’t wait to get back out’ to sad faces on FaceTime and uncountable replies of ‘same’ as we kept our ears open for news. My eyes would be glued to the screen whenever characters of a TV show would shout at each other over thudding music, their faces glowing under red and blue lights. I thought about it so much I was worried that when we were finally allowed out again, Manchester’s nightlife would be irrevocably changed, and nobody would find as much love and joy there any more. RECOMMENDED: The 37 best cities in the world in 2021 But – and it delights me to say it – I was very wrong. When the doors reopened, there was one place I knew I had to get back to: SOUP basement, in the Northern Quarter. And when we finally made it in, it didn’t let any of us down. My shoes still stuck to the floor, the lack of windows meant time almost ceased to exist, and we twisted our bodies into shapes we’d struggle to recreate anywhere else. SOUP is an intimate, unjudgmental space;