Two Girls, One Manchester Plan
Two girls from different cities, meeting in Manchester for a leisurely lunch with a hint of luxe and an overnight stay for one.
On paper, it sounds simple enough.
A good table. A rooftop if possible. Somewhere beautiful to stay. Enough time to eat, talk, laugh, and remember why making plans with friends is worth the diary negotiation in the first place.
But add a wheelchair into the planning, and simple can become a little more complicated.
Not impossible.
Not dramatic.
Just less certain than it should be.
When Simple Hasn’t Always Been Simple
Recent trips to Manchester had already taught me to be cautious. One ended with me shuffling down the stairs of a particularly high-end restaurant after an unusable lift situation. If you have not read about that one, it is here. Another involved booking what was described as luxury accessible accommodation with on-site parking, only to arrive and discover it had neither in any useful sense.
The Lowry saved the day on that occasion, although truthfully, The Lowry has been my Manchester go-to for a good while now. It is one of those hotels I know I can trust, which matters. The only catch is that other people clearly know that too, so booking early is very much advised.
But this time, I wanted to be a little more central.
I wanted the kind of city stay where the hotel, the lunch, the route and the rhythm of the day all sat together. Not as an access project. Just as a good Manchester plan.
The Search Before the Stay
So I started my search.
I knew a luxury hotel had recently reopened under a new name in exactly the part of the city I needed to be in, so I reached out on Instagram to ask about accessibility. They replied and kindly gave me an email address to contact.
I never open with “Hi, I’m Luiz from The Inclusive Edit” when I’m travelling as a guest. I ask the same questions any guest would ask, because that is usually where the truth of the experience begins.
The email bounced back with an automated reply advising that the address was no longer in use and directing me elsewhere. I contacted the alternative address. Another automated response arrived to say they were looking into my enquiry and would get back to me.
A couple of days passed without an answer.
I decided to call. The person I spoke to wasn’t sure but said she would find out. I waited on hold for around five minutes, and when she tried to reconnect, the line cut off. I tried again the next day and exactly the same thing happened.
None of this was catastrophic.
That is almost the point.
It was the familiar, quiet admin of trying to find out whether a beautiful hotel would actually work.
Then I realised there was no wheelchair access to the exclusive rooftop either, which rather took the shine off the idea. Or, more accurately, sent that idea gently down the drain.
So I went back to my search.
Why Kimpton Clocktower
I had always fancied Kimpton Clocktower.
Central. Distinctive. Full of Manchester character.
The only question was whether asking a 130-year-old building to work well for me was asking too much.
It turns out, it was exactly what I was asking for.
Knowing I didn’t have much time to waste, I checked the information on the website first. It was helpful, clear and gave me enough confidence to pick up the phone.
That call made all the difference.
The person I spoke to knew the answers. Not vaguely. Not in a “let me just check with someone” way. She explained that the hotel had thirteen adapted rooms, each unique in design. Some with roll-in showers, some with adapted baths. She understood that different guests need different things, and the conversation felt open, informative and refreshingly straightforward.
She also explained the parking situation clearly. The nearest parking was at the NCP car park, and one of my own top tips here is to download the app and pre-book your space ahead of time. It makes the whole thing much calmer. She also explained that I could pull up at the drop-off point outside the hotel and concierge would assist me with my bags.
Ten minutes from zero to booking.
That is how it should feel.
Operation Rooftop
With the hotel booked, it was back to operation rooftop.
We wanted views, food, drinks, and somewhere we could properly relax and catch up. So I googled it, and one answer stood out tall.
The access information was clear. Not hidden, or vague. Not the kind that leaves you reading between the lines and hoping for the best.
It simply gave me enough confidence to say yes.
On the map, the route from Kimpton Clocktower to 20 Stories looked almost straight through the city, so we booked for 1pm and finally, the plan felt like a plan.
Arriving at Kimpton Clocktower
Before I arrived at Kimpton Clocktower, I did what I always do when I need to park my car off site.
Another little tip.
I headed to the car park first, got my bearings so I could work out my wheelchair route, and then drove back to the hotel. For me, the NCP Manchester Palace car park worked best, so that is what I used.
The drop-off point outside is right outside the hotel which was ideal for me. But I will say this with love for Manchester: watch out for the silent e-bikes that appear from absolutely nowhere!
I pulled up, popped my blue badge in the car to give myself a little more time to get sorted, and rolled straight through the main entrance.
The first thing I noticed was the on-site florist.
More about that later.
Then I was through into reception.
Kimpton Clocktower knows how to make an entrance.
The reception area is grand, with a decorative glass roof and a bronze horse standing proudly in the space, which I later learned was sculpted by Charles Dickens’ great-granddaughter. There is real theatre to it, but not in a way that overwhelms. Alongside the grandeur, there was calm. A sense that everything was under control.
Check-in was smooth.
The concierge desk had an accessible section attached to the front, so I didn’t have to hover awkwardly beside a high reception desk or have paperwork passed down to me like an afterthought. Everything that needed completing was done in a way that felt relaxed and natural.
Not clinical.
Not awkward.
Just part of checking in.
Concierge came to my car and took my bags up to the room while I went to park. By the time I returned and settled in, I was ready for a 3pm Zoom meeting.
That might sound like a small thing, but quick connection and reliable WiFi matter to me. I work in travel, which means I could be dialling in from almost anywhere in the world. A beautiful hotel room is lovely. A beautiful hotel room where the WiFi works without a full emotional journey is even better.
The Room That Let Me Exhale
At that point, I had not properly appreciated the room itself.
Then I stopped.
The space had that Kimpton Clocktower mix of Victorian grandeur and bold, elegant design. Traditional racing green and gold ran through the room against crisp white sheets. It felt rich, but not fussy. Characterful, but still calm.
The bathroom was adapted with a lowered bath and transfer platform, which for me was a real gift. The chrome fittings meant the grab rails and practical details felt integrated into the design rather than added afterwards. It still felt like a hotel bathroom. A good one.
I could tell straight away that this was going to be a relaxing stay.
A Hotel with a Sense of Place
Wandering through the hotel felt like a small museum trip in itself. The corridors seemed to lead in every direction, and I found myself getting happily lost. I even caught myself admiring the staircases, which is not a sentence you will hear from me very often.
But the architecture makes you look up.
The building has that sense of history you can feel without anyone needing to explain it too loudly. A glimpse into the old safe room revealed huge cabinets that once held the city’s secrets. I wasn’t the only person stopping to take it all in. Guests were pausing in corridors, looking up at ceilings, slowing down without really meaning to.
That is one of the pleasures of staying somewhere with a strong sense of place.
The hotel becomes part of the trip.
A Manchester Detour to Bunny Jackson’s
Later, I realised another friend was in town and nearby, so we decided to meet for food. As a local lad, I asked where he would suggest, and just around the corner was Bunny Jackson’s. He thought the ground floor was accessible, and a quick search confirmed it.
So I rolled round to the famous wing joint.
A pint of their own pale ale, a mountain of wings and loaded fries was exactly what I fancied, and that is exactly what we got. We didn’t make it to their famous whiskey list, but that feels like a reason to return rather than a failure.
It had rock and roll, self-confessed dive bar energy, with buckets and kitchen roll for sticky fingers on every table. It was relaxed, loud, easy, and a really cool little Manchester find. Not the polished part of the trip, perhaps, but no one said it needed to be. It was very much part of the city, and a lovely unexpected addition to the stay.
Sometimes luxury is the bathrobe and the butler.
Sometimes it is wings and mac and cheese fries because that is what hits the spot.
Turn-Down, Bubbles and a Proper Bath
Back at Kimpton Clocktower, turn-down service was underway.
On my pillows were the cutest Manchester bee chocolates and Elemis pillow spray, left by the lovely Miss Dior. Her name made me smile because she complimented my perfume, which happened to be by her namesake.
A tiny moment.
But those are often the ones that stay with me.
My evening was always going to involve a soak in the bath. I warmed up my robe and slippers, added extra bubbles, put on a podcast and stayed there for an extended hour or so.
The ease of it mattered. I wasn’t working around the bathroom or trying to make do with a space that didn’t quite fit. It was just a proper bath, in a beautiful room, at the end of a long day.
It set me up for the perfect night’s sleep.
And it was.
A Slow Morning
The next morning, room service arrived with good strong coffee and perfectly poached eggs. I spent the morning flicking through magazines and doing a little market research for my next overseas adventure.
There was no rush.
Just a relaxed packing of my bag and an easy checkout. I left my bags with concierge, who said he would happily bring them out to the drop-off point later in the day when I returned.
That kind of thing matters.
Not because carrying bags is the story.
Because removing small bits of friction is often what allows the rest of the day to feel light.
Before leaving for lunch, I finally went back to the florist I had spotted on arrival.
Throughout Kimpton Clocktower, the flowers and plants are beautiful. Not just decorative in the background, but part of the atmosphere of the hotel. They are provided by the florist attached to the building, which suddenly made the whole place feel even more considered.
I had my eye on the coolest little Venus flytrap, so when I went back to collect my bags, I bought it and brought it home. The children absolutely loved it.
It is a small thing, I know. But I like leaving a place with something that reminds me of it. Especially when the stay has given me something worth remembering.
With my little Manchester souvenir mentally reserved for later, I made my way towards 20 Stories.
Lunch Above the City At 20 Stories
The weather was kind, so I made my way to 20 Stories without a taxi. Just a gentle roll through the city.
Katy was already waiting for me and, with hugs exchanged, we went in.
The welcome on the ground floor had almost a hotel check-in feel to it. A genuine “how are you?” A little curiosity about what had brought us to the restaurant. Not scripted. Just warm.
That personal touch continued through the afternoon.
We went straight up to the rooftop in possibly the fastest lift I have ever been in, which made a lovely change from waiting an age and then playing human Tetris to fit inside.
Not here.
Everything felt spacious and smooth.
The botanical feel ran through the bar, restaurant and terrace, with planting, flowers and spring sunshine softening the space. I rolled through two sets of double doors onto the rooftop with such ease that I barely noticed it.
Which, of course, made me notice it.
Because I know how often that isn’t the case.
Katy and I had chatted the whole way in without her needing to hold every door, move furniture, check a route or rescue her toes from my wheels. That is the thing about access when it works. It disappears just enough for the actual moment to come forward.
Ewan, our waiter and mixologist, took us to our booth. There was plenty of space for me to transfer from my chair onto the comfy sofa and keep my wheelchair nearby without any suggestion that it was in the way.
Again, small on paper.
Huge in practice.
Mocktails, Margaritas and a Table That Worked
I spotted the mango hot honey margarita and immediately decided that would be my one alcoholic cocktail before making my way through the mocktails.
I love a place that takes as much care over its non-alcoholic drinks menu as it does over its alcoholic one. For me, a drink, just like food, is about taste, texture, temperature and balance. It should still have that little dance with your senses.
At 20 Stories, it did.
The Zero Cuban Mule, with dried lime slices, was the perfect pairing for the bluefin tuna ceviche, which I think might be the best I have tasted outside downtown Varadero in Cuba itself.
The pulled pork sliders and arancini are must-orders too.
Perfect sharing food.
The chat and giggles flowed with the afternoon. Around us, the bar and restaurant seemed to be full of all the right kinds of Manchester moments. Families. Friends. Work colleagues. People marking something. People not marking anything at all. Just choosing somewhere lovely to be.
Time passed too quickly.
Before we knew it, it was early evening and time to leave.
But it definitely left us wanting to return, this time for the full main restaurant experience. Because if bar snacks and mocktails on the terrace were this good, I am very interested in the main event.
The Luxury of Things Working
This was never meant to be a complicated trip.
It was two friends meeting for lunch. A hotel room for the night. A rooftop view. A bath. A strong coffee. A table where the afternoon could stretch into early evening without anyone watching the clock too closely.
That is what good access gives back.
Not just entry.
Ease.
The freedom for the experience to become what it was supposed to be about in the first place.
Manchester has always had the ingredients for a brilliant city break. What Kimpton Clocktower and 20 Stories gave me was the confidence to enjoy them without feeling like I had to manage every moment into place.
And that, really, is the standard.
Not perfection.
The quiet luxury of things working well enough that you can finally stop checking and simply be there.
