I've got a confession to make; I'm a massive post code snob. Within London if I see an SE or an NE prefix at the end of an address my heart starts to beat faster, I get sweaty palms and I hold my wallet close. You can imagine then the horror that seeing such postcodes as LS, L, and even (shock horror) M used to strike into my heart. Like most Londoners I have long laboured under the misconception that the world ends at the M25. Being born and brought up in the capital city does (I'm slightly ashamed to say) inculcate a certain sense of "number one, so why try harder". London has a vice like grip on almost every creative and political sphere in the country it seems. Why would we want to take the time to go and visit our coal covered, slightly primitive cousins in the north?
But hold on people, It's not 1982 anymore. We're not at war with Argentina, and a plummy woman with helmet hair and a penchant for stealing milk from school kids no longer governs our fair isle. Times have well and truly changed, and where once the views held by Londoners of 'oop north' may, sadly, have found some basis in truth, happily that's no longer the case. The north is alive and kicking.
With the exception of Manchester, which is just an out and out toilet staffed by some of the most revolting toilet attendants I've ever had the misfortune to take an e-coli laden towel from (I know, I went to uni there), northern cities have been given a massive facelift and are sticking two fingers up at their grand old southern cousin. The arts are flourishing, new, sexy restaurants are opening left, right and centre, and the nightlife is going off.
I've just got back from a visit to Sheffield and I had so much fun I can't tell you. Everybody in London is so busy and self important that come the weekend, half the time, people are so busy bitching and whinging about their week that they drag that shitty attitude out with them on a Saturday night. Not so in the north. Yes, everybody's probably had a crappy week up there too, but come Saturday night problems are forgotten and everybody is out to do one thing and one thing only; enjoy themselves. I used to sneer at the attitude of going all out on a Saturday night, but now I ask myself who's having more fun? Us down here in London trying oh so hard to be cool and look down our noses at everyone else, or our friends in the north who just go out and have a good time? Yes, you see a lot of special sights in northern city centres of a weekend (Liverpool and Leeds in particular provide endless banter with an army of backcombed, orange, blond things skipping about), but you also see a hell of a lot of hot people who put a lot of time and effort into getting ready before they went out. This is something the identikit army of Ben Sherman shirt, jeans, trainer combo London guys could learn from.
I'm going to really start making the effort to get out and see more of the UK. I'm not just talking about cities too. This country has some of the most beautiful countryside anywhere (a jaunt in the peak district last weekend helped open my eyes to this). For a very long time I've been guilty of looking outside the UK (to the sun) when I want a break. But no longer! I've decided 2012 is going to be my year for UK exploration. There are so many beautiful places outside this heaving metropolis to see and enjoy. I'm digging out my Hunters and my Barbour jacket as we speak. I intend to take full advantage of our country from now on, and have many more attitude-less nights out in the fair north. Come on people, get up the M1. You might just like it...
Sunday, 23 October 2011
Friday, 21 October 2011
Change gon' come. But where?
Buongiorno a tutti!
It's been a while since my last post. Bet you all thought I'd given up didn't you? Well you'd be wrong there people. I'm still very much alive and kicking. It's just been a bit of a weird time.
I've been back from Madrid just over a month now. And I knew it would probably take me a bit of time to find my way back into the upright swing of things here after having lived a horizontal Spanish lifestyle for two years. "Give yourself a bit of time to readjust" I told myself. However, after five weeks back in the big smoke I still feel strangely disconnected.
I've just come back from a week visiting dear friends in Sheffield and on the train ride home yesterday I sat deep in thought about why I feel the way I do right now. Cue eureka moment. I just don't want to be in London anymore. I know in previous posts I've extolled the virtues of my great city, and all of this is still very much true. It's just I don't think it's true for me anymore.
I must have changed a lot more than I'd realised in the last two years, but I feel as if London hasn't. Or maybe I haven't changed at all and London has. Or maybe I have just realised things about myself I already knew all along. I don't know. I just know that I don't really fit here anymore. The things I loved, and in some ways respected, about London in the past (its non-stop pace, unapologetic materialism, work always comes first mentality) now completely turn me off. Even the dating world here is grossing me out somewhat.
In my last post I introduced you all to the wonderful world of Grindr. Now, all last week I was cruising around on it in Sheffield and the difference in attitude of the guys up there was such an eye opener. Most of the profiles I read in London are so exacting you'd need an MA just to initiate a conversation, whereas the ones in Sheffield were just so much more relaxed and human. I know it might be a bit silly to judge a city on a dumb gay iPhone app, but it's just an example of that London mentality which now is beginning to seem so alien to me. There doesn't seem to be any time for living in London. I've been back for five weeks and in that time have only managed to see some of my closest friends once or not at all. You need a PA and a Gordon Gekko style filofax just to hang out with the people you love here! I'll always have a special place in my heart for my hometown, and I'm so so proud I was born and brought up here. I've just fallen out of love with the place.
So, I know I don't want to be here anymore. Where am I going to go then, I ask myself. I'm still on track to take my masters in Geneva next year, but after that I'm a little lost. I'm done with the UK, but Spain (and a lot of Europe) is too one dimensional It's scary but also exciting not knowing exactly where the future is going to take you. I'm looking on my new found geographical clear mindedness in a positive light. The world is my oyster!
On the love front things are still pretty quiet, but stay tuned. There's speed dating and gay bashment nights in the offing. Fertile feeding ground for these fingers of fire (I meant in the typing sense and nothing else you filthy beggars!)
It's been a while since my last post. Bet you all thought I'd given up didn't you? Well you'd be wrong there people. I'm still very much alive and kicking. It's just been a bit of a weird time.
I've been back from Madrid just over a month now. And I knew it would probably take me a bit of time to find my way back into the upright swing of things here after having lived a horizontal Spanish lifestyle for two years. "Give yourself a bit of time to readjust" I told myself. However, after five weeks back in the big smoke I still feel strangely disconnected.
I've just come back from a week visiting dear friends in Sheffield and on the train ride home yesterday I sat deep in thought about why I feel the way I do right now. Cue eureka moment. I just don't want to be in London anymore. I know in previous posts I've extolled the virtues of my great city, and all of this is still very much true. It's just I don't think it's true for me anymore.
I must have changed a lot more than I'd realised in the last two years, but I feel as if London hasn't. Or maybe I haven't changed at all and London has. Or maybe I have just realised things about myself I already knew all along. I don't know. I just know that I don't really fit here anymore. The things I loved, and in some ways respected, about London in the past (its non-stop pace, unapologetic materialism, work always comes first mentality) now completely turn me off. Even the dating world here is grossing me out somewhat.
In my last post I introduced you all to the wonderful world of Grindr. Now, all last week I was cruising around on it in Sheffield and the difference in attitude of the guys up there was such an eye opener. Most of the profiles I read in London are so exacting you'd need an MA just to initiate a conversation, whereas the ones in Sheffield were just so much more relaxed and human. I know it might be a bit silly to judge a city on a dumb gay iPhone app, but it's just an example of that London mentality which now is beginning to seem so alien to me. There doesn't seem to be any time for living in London. I've been back for five weeks and in that time have only managed to see some of my closest friends once or not at all. You need a PA and a Gordon Gekko style filofax just to hang out with the people you love here! I'll always have a special place in my heart for my hometown, and I'm so so proud I was born and brought up here. I've just fallen out of love with the place.
So, I know I don't want to be here anymore. Where am I going to go then, I ask myself. I'm still on track to take my masters in Geneva next year, but after that I'm a little lost. I'm done with the UK, but Spain (and a lot of Europe) is too one dimensional It's scary but also exciting not knowing exactly where the future is going to take you. I'm looking on my new found geographical clear mindedness in a positive light. The world is my oyster!
On the love front things are still pretty quiet, but stay tuned. There's speed dating and gay bashment nights in the offing. Fertile feeding ground for these fingers of fire (I meant in the typing sense and nothing else you filthy beggars!)
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