Location: Manchester UK
My story has haunted me ever since it occurred, back in 1989. Thankfully, I was not alone at the time. Since my friend shared the exact same experience, I have no doubt it was real. Also, for months and months after, we retraced our every step, over and over and over. We recalled the precise route we took and even remembered what we were talking about during our walk. A walk that should have taken us no more than a half-hour, in the extreme. However, our short walk was much longer, by over two hours.
1989 in Manchester was the place to be. It was the birth of acid house music, warehouse parties, rave and I had front row seats. THE club in Manchester was the Hacienda (R.I.P.). The Hacienda was one of a handful of clubs playing music that was destined to talk over the world. It was a great time to be young.
It was Saturday night and my friend and I had planned to go to the Hacienda, but leave early, at 1 am. We planned on leaving the club at 1 because it closed at 2 am. However, just a short walk from the Hacienda was the No1 Club and it stayed open until 4 am. My friend was wearing a watch. At a few minutes before 1 am, he shows me his watch and gestures it’s time to go.
Now, at this point, it is important to stress we KNEW it was 1 am because the club was full-on. The music was pumping, the crowd was roaring. It was the 1 am vibe. Had it been 12, it would have been a completely different vibe, with mellower building up music. At 2 am, since the club is about to close, the music is winding down.
So, we left the club and proceeded to walk to the No1. Since I have measured the distance using Google maps and plotted the course we took. I can confidently state it’s a half-mile walk. It takes approximately 10 – 15 minutes, tops to walk that distance. Along the way, we briefly stopped at some park benches across from the G-Mex and had a quick cig, and cooled down a bit. We were drenched in sweat and it was the summer. This took no more than 5 minutes and we were on our way again.
Now, with an extreme estimate of time, we should have arrived at the No1 at 1:30 am, at the VERY latest. When we arrived, the bouncers, who we knew, since we were regulars, said, “Sorry, lads. Club’s about to close.”
“Close? Has the club started closing earlier?” we asked. No, still closing at 4. It’s 3:45… WHAT… THE… F**K?!
My friend and I look at each other in disbelief. He looks at his watch. 3:45. Somehow, a walk that should have taken no longer than a half-hour had an extra 2 hours and 15 minutes of unaccounted time. As I said, we retraced every step of the route, we both recalled what we were talking about. Both of us had the exact same memories of the walk.
Even stranger, we were not on a deserted country road. We were right smack in the middle of the city. Recently, I’ve been considering hypnosis to see if I can find answers. Part of me wonders if it’s something that is best left a secret. By the way, this is the ONLY time this has happened to me, that I am aware of.
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