By HARRY BAMFORTH, LIVE SPORTS COVERAGE REPORTER

Updated: 20:48 BST, 12 September 2026

Fans are still slowly piling into the arena 30 minutes ahead of showtime.

There are strict security checks with full body scanners and prohibited items including brollies and booze being taken off concert goers on arrival.

Lucky night one ticket-holders have dressed up for the occasion in Celine t-shirts, brightly coloured outfits and LOTS of glitter. Many fans braving teetering high heels in homage to the fashionista queen.

Pints of beer will set you back 10 Euros inside, a glass of wine 8 euros and a flute of champagne 12 euros. Soft drinks are 5 euros a glass.

Those wanting to splash out, can treat themselves to a memento of a ‘goblets collector, plastic cup for 4 euros.

Be warned queues to the bar are long with fans waiting over an hour to get served. There is no air con in the concourse so it’s thirsty work waiting in line

Anthony Hutton, from County Durham, became a household name in 2005 when he won the sixth series of Big Brother.

He beat Eugene Sully in the final and won the programme’s £50,000 prize.

Consett-born Hutton was 23 when he won, becoming one of the series’ most recognisable housemates in a colourful cast packed with drama.

His win thrust him into celebrity life overnight.

Mr Hutton, now 43, was given a quarter of a million pounds worth of publicity almost immediately after leaving the house, highlighting the extraordinary level of attention surrounding the show at the time.

Like many reality television contestants, Hutton found that life after the programme was very different from life before it.

He regularly appeared on television and experienced the impact fame had on his mental health.

Anthony Hutton has regularly opened up on his mental health battle. (Image: ITV)

In an interview, Hutton said he had experienced suicidal feelings after the sudden change in his circumstances.

His story has since moved well beyond the Big Brother house.

Hutton later became involved in efforts to challenge the stigma surrounding men’s mental health and suicide.

Anthony later opened Mr Hutton’s Barbers and Bar in Darlington, combining a daytime barbershop with a cocktail bar in the evenings.

He said the barber’s chair became a place where customers naturally opened up about their lives and struggles, with conversations often revealing how many men were dealing with their mental health.

Hutton later launched the Throw In The Towel Project to challenge stigma around men’s mental health and suicide.

Through the project, he shares his experiences, runs free men’s mental-health retreats and encourages people to talk while walking, exercising or sitting in a barber’s chair.

The project’s official website describes its message as one of resilience, continuing to fight and “never giving up”

He has also made occasional television appearances, including a reflective interview about his journey on Steph’s Packed Lunch in 2022.

Today, Hutton encourages men to speak honestly about their wellbeing.

The Big Brother winner now uses his experience to help men speak openly, build support networks and feel less alone.

The early noughties were a golden era for Bolton nightlife, with queues around the block, dancefloors full until the early hours and fashions that now feel firmly of their time.

Many of the pubs and clubs that once defined nights out in the town have since disappeared, but the memories live on in these photographs.

With it being Saturday night, we thought you would love a trip down memory lane.

Take a look through our gallery and see if you can spot a familiar face among the crowds.

Let us know in the comments your favourite places to visit back then.

Tim Bryan was presented with Volunteer of the Year at a glittering ceremony at York Racecourse on September 10 for the “extraordinary impact” he has had on the branch.

Speaking on the night, Tim said he wanted to dedicate the award to his “beautiful family and wife”, and all those who work tirelessly behind the scenes with the group.

Tim dedicated his award to his “beautiful” wife and family, along with the volunteers from the Parkinson’s UK branch (Image: David Harrison Photography)

He said: “I’d just like to pay tribute to the resilience and the determination of all the people that we work with.

“A big thank you to everyone who dedicates their time to volunteer with us.”

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In the five months since Tim was elected as chair, he has made a “real” difference to those living with Parkinson’s in the city, leading with compassion and using his dedication to the group to transform lives.

One of Tim’s standout achievements was organising a high-profile awareness and fundraising event at York Station on World Parkinson’s Day.

Tim joined the other finalists at the ceremony at York Racecourse on September 10 (Image: David Harrison Photography)

The event involved more than 40 volunteers, live musical performances, and raised awareness on a large scale.

He has also helped secure inspiring guest speakers for the group’s monthly meetings, which now attract around 70 attendees.

These gatherings offer information, friendship, and emotional support to those affected by Parkinson’s, and Tim has also played a key role in setting up therapeutic classes designed to improve members’ wellbeing.

Tim Bryan, chair of York’s Parkinson’s UK branch, took home Volunteer of the Year from the Community Pride Awards (Image: Supplied)

In addition to his volunteer work, Tim is a full-time care partner for his wife, Lynette, who also contributes to the group.

His nominator said: “Many people living with Parkinson’s now enjoy greater support, friendship and opportunities because of his efforts.

“Tim embodies the spirit of community pride, and I feel privileged to make this nomination for Volunteer of the Year.”

Pressed as to whether his defenders were his biggest area of concern, Alonso added: “We can do better. We need to know that even when we have the lead, a very important part of the game is to hold together, keep the distances, to go intense in the situations to defend, and I am sure we can do better.

Never did I imagine that at 62, the start of my wrinkly-prune stage of life, I would find myself standing at my back-garden gate wearing flip-flops, a grey onesie and a pair of yellow rubber gloves, directing an immaculately coiffured Thai woman to the footpath into town. 

And worse, that I’d be spotted by a troop of local yummy mummies taking their children the back way into school.

At least it wasn’t as embarrassing as that time a glamorous polo-playing Argentinian came down for breakfast horribly early, holding out a pair of my knickers between finger and thumb and handing them to me in the kitchen. I had dropped them on the stairs on my way to a swift pre-breakfast laundry run.

Time was, I’d be in kitten heels and a designer outfit, Louis Vuitton holdall in hand, for a trip to Barbados, to write up a five-star hotel in my then-role as features and travel editor for Country Life magazine.

 Then I became a B&B hostess in my own home, and my red-carpet lifestyle changed from designer luggage to manning the laundry and occasionally sleeping on the drawing-room floor. 

That’s one of the hazards that come with opening your home to strangers from all over the world. Because no matter who is to blame for overbooking, there’s only one option when all your rooms have been taken and a Parisian couple – the wife heavily pregnant – turn up on your doorstep at midnight insisting they had made a reservation. 

Turn them away into a winter night when there is no other accommodation available around? No way. You have to offer them your own bedroom.

The other time that happened was ten years ago when a particularly elegant middle-aged woman who had enjoyed three days with us asked to stay on a fourth night. 

She was well aware we were fully booked, but such was her charm and engaging personality, somehow familiar but which I couldn’t quite place, that I gave her our room while my husband and I bedded down on the drawing-room carpet once more.

Then there was the guest who arrived just before Covid, paying £100 a night, but stayed for a year, including lockdown, when we charged her just for food and bills. 

She was a non-English-speaking, cigar-smoking Chinese divorcee who arrived in a whirlwind of chaos via a booking from a Beijing agency, ostensibly searching the West Country for an international school for her young daughter. She was clearly wealthy, handling cash like a croupier. 

She owned properties in China the size of Somerset, always dressed in couture and was an inveterate photographer.

Commandeering my husband to drive her around all the local tourist attractions, including a 40-mile round trip to Bath to get a humidor for her Havanas, she took pictures of everything that crossed her path, from the smallest thatched cottage to the grandest cathedral.

But he noticed she also photographed the nearby naval air base, the local mainline railway station and the county police headquarters.

Melanie’s double-fronted 19th-century home – and B&B

She stayed so long on the grounds that it was apparently ‘difficult’ to get a direct flight back to China. For some reason, I didn’t question it and we began to treat her as one of the family. 

Gradually, though, we noticed she was trying to take over our home, bossing me about to the extent that some mornings I took to hiding under the duvet rather than get up and face her.

On a rare night when all the other rooms were empty, we invited a few friends over for a kitchen supper, only for her to burst into view and claim our Aga for the preparation of one of her expansive Chinese dishes. 

This could not go on and, after a stand-up row, she finally left. When we later mentioned her ever-busy camera to a friend in contact with the security services, he said, ‘Almost certainly, you played host for a year to a Chinese spy.’

To this day I still wonder how I became a B&B hostess, for it crept up on me, in the same way the smell of coffee lures our guests down for breakfast. 

If I had to pinpoint the date it started, it was in 2006 when I was a single mum, moving from that jet-set London life to the small market town of Castle Cary in Somerset with my young son, Jasper, now 28. I wanted him to grow up attending a country school in the West Country, where I myself had partly grown up. To help pay the bills, I took in lodgers. From there I moved to Airbnb hosting.

It was only when I met my husband, Martin, a local businessman, that I felt emboldened to run a full-on, old-fashioned guest house. 

He is the perfect front-of-house partner, with an infectious affability that bestows a glowing welcome on visitors the moment they enter the hallway, and makes them feel one of the family by the time they have come down for breakfast the next morning.

A top-floor bath (which has a view)

Many guests look up at us fondly from the breakfast table, saying, ‘This is what I can imagine doing when I retire’. However, I can’t stress enough about the strains of turning your home into a business.

Suddenly, your sanctuary becomes public property, every nook and cranny poked into by strangers, your personal possessions on show to the world and your space invaded at every turn. You’re on call round the clock, sheet-changing is a constant chore, and our washing machine is endlessly breaking down under the strain.

It’s also a precarious business proposition. Bookings vary violently. From affluent weeks of having to turn people away can come nail-biting days of waiting for the phone to ring.

And guests are not always grateful. An apparently jovial Dutch couple were stern-faced when they came down for breakfast and demanded a 50 per cent reduction in their bill unless we wanted them to post a hostile review online.

There was nothing wrong with their room, they were just trying their luck, so we called their bluff and refused. 

Then there were the four young women who booked two double rooms but on arrival all four decided to share the same bed. So they were only willing to pay for one room. They were not even the worst offenders. Once we had an entire family of 11 turn up having booked just one room.

A guest room with a bed that can sleep four

For every guest like that, though, there are dozens who restore your faith in humanity. Most people who come through our door are lovely – but it’s easy to forget that when the bad ones make such better stories.

A former senior Conservative MP stayed with us once and, in trying to force open a sash window in his top-floor room, he managed to dislodge the whole thing from its setting and send the glass crashing down on to the terrace. 

Thank god no one was actually on the terrace at the time. The former minister offered no contribution to cover the repairs, but his secretary finally did afterwards.

There also seems to be no dress code for people staying at a B&B.

We’ve had gentlemen turn up in black tie and women in full evening dress en route to a local wedding; tattooed Hells Angels heading for a music festival; and novice nuns returning from an obscure religious convention. 

The most unexpected, though, was the visitor who went to bed as an immaculate businessman and came down for breakfast dressed as a voluptuous woman. The other guests never raised their eyes from their scrambled eggs. We merely asked what name to put on the receipt.

The drawing room, where guests and hosts gather

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However, by far the most glamorous of our guests was the elegant woman who wanted that extra night. I felt I should recognise her but couldn’t quite place her face. She had registered under her married name, so there was no clue. 

But as she was leaving, there was something about her that made me blurt out, ‘Did anyone ever tell you that you look just like Twiggy?’ To my eternal embarrassment, she gave me a gracious smile and replied, ‘I am Twiggy. Thank you for having me.’

How many people can claim to have shared their bed with a supermodel? My husband does – frequently.

Visit ellesmerehouse.co and follow Melanie on Substack at melaniecable alexander.substack.com

A spokesperson for Greater Manchester Police said: “At 6.10pm this evening (Saturday 12 September 2026), we were called to an ongoing disturbance at Exchange Square in the city centre.

“Officers arrived at the scene and established that an individual has had an unknown substance thrown at them following a verbal altercation.

“The victim, a male in his mid-teens has received an injury that has been described as not life-threatening but potentially life-changing.