The United Kingdom's hotel industry is back together again, with a very successful Annual Hotel Convention took place in Manchester last week.

The event had a new home, too, the Manchester Central Convention Complex, which in decades past had been the city’s central railway station. It is a very short walk from the Hilton Deansgate, which is the AHC’s spiritual home, one the conference outgrew during COVID-19.

In 2019, the last time the AHC was held in its full format, it was evident that fine hotel was not coping with the number of attendees, which is testament to the desire for hoteliers to meet and share knowledge.

I stayed at the Hotel Brooklyn Manchester, one of a brand created by hotel management firm Bespoke Hotels’ president Robin Sheppard.

It is a great spot, with a wonderful staff. It shares a few design traits with brand CitizenM, and its “New York City speakeasy spivs and molls” theme is not overdone.

Male staff wear brown and beige pin-stripe suits, but these are subtle, not the type one would dress up as hoodlums in a Wide Boy movie; the female staff are attired in 1950s-style party frocks, but also in good taste, and I was told they have freedom to express themselves within certain parameters.

An amphitheater of sorts with cushions faces a huge TV that showed live coverage of Manchester City destroying Everton 3-0, and there is a welcoming bar to one side of an area also used for breakfast.

My room had the bed at an angle, a Nespresso machine, a retro radio and four novels to read [unfortunately not possible in a two-night stay], including F. Scott Fitzgerald’s “The Great Gatsby,” which I studied at university, and Damon Runyon’s “Guys and Dolls,” which I have not read.

Another thing I was impressed with — which either shows that I am easily impressed, or I do not get out enough — was that the bathroom only had one container of soap.

It was on the shower’s one shelf, but there is a circular hole in the shower’s glass side that allowed one to easily reach said soap if one was washing their face or hands above the sink and in front of the mirror.

Waste kept to a minimum, and the guest not exacerbated at a flaw in design.

Why Manchester needs a hotel with this theme, even if it is not forced, I cannot conjecture, but I thoroughly enjoyed it.

The final panel of the AHC was an interview with Manchester United and England soccer player Gary Neville, whose career highlight most likely was 10 days in 1999 when he and his teammates won the FA Cup, English Premiership and European Champions League in the space of 10 days.

I remember that last game because I was watching it in New York City with 10 Bayern Munich fans, that being the German team who went from 1-0 up with stoppage time already in play to lose 1-2 before that stoppage time had ended.

Neville owns two hotels in Manchester via the GG Hospitality Group set up with fellow United player Ryan Giggs — the Hotel Football, Old Trafford and the Stock Exchange Hotel.

Neville was impressive, especially concerning his passionate support of staff and his call they must be better treated than perhaps they are, and funny and critical takes on what he sees as flawed government leadership.

He was clear this was not an attack on the ruling party, more so an attack on six leaders of the party, whom he named. Apparently, and I did not know this, he is on record with his criticism, although when asked if he had plans to run for mayor of Manchester, he said no.

Neville also is known for asking fellow soccer players a quick-fire round of 30 questions, and the tables were turned on him at the conference to do likewise.

When asked if his favorite pudding was Manchester tart or spotted dick, two desserts that filled me with terror at primary school lunch when I saw they were on the menu [no choice, one or the other, usually], he chose Manchester tart, which I guess he had to — certainly if he does have political dreams.

Following Neville’s talk, lunch was served upstairs, and there in all its glory was a tray of Manchester tart, a confection of pastry, raspberry jam, custard and coconut flakes.

I braved one, and it was delicious, so it probably did not bear any resemblance to what I endured all those years ago.

Maybe things had improved in school canteens since Manchester icon Morrissey sang with The Smiths in 1985, “Belligerent ghouls run Manchester schools, spineless swines, cemented minds. Sir leads the troops, jealous of youth …”

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