(Originally published in Student Direct)
Since coming to Salford University last year, I’ve found that a lot of people genuinely don’t understand what it means to be from a small town. In Runcorn (where TV programme ‘Two Pints’ is filmed, the only reason why anyone has heard of the place) we
have a cinema and a Pizza Hut. That is it. Since moving away the town has also acquired a Dominoes and a Starbucks, and yes this did cause a bit of a stir and genuine excitement with the locals. The only watering hole I’ll step foot in is our Wetherspoons. Our only club is three quid to get in and no way would I pay my way into a place that has more riot vans than people at the door.
The majority of my flatmates are from cities, so I’ve spent a lot of time trying to explain that the only thing to do in The Corn is get drunk and sleep with each other. So, moving to a city, I was buzzing (newly acquired word) to go from never having heard the word ‘bare’, to a place where ‘getting messy’ and ‘banter’ become a part of everyday life.
My friends from home are brilliant, but I have never met as many amazing people in my whole life than I have during my 18 months at Salford, and I doubt I’ll have the opportunity to again. I’ll never get tired of comparing hometowns, lifestyles, accents – translating slang words for each other will always be a favourite pastime of mine. Teaching people what ‘sound’ means and arguing whether it’s a lolly ice or ice lolly (lolly ice) and whether it’s a barm or bap (barmcake) can while away many an hour.
‘Madchester’
I’ve found that I now have a weird sort of protectiveness when I look at where I’m from. It may be a dead end but I love the fact I can easily leave it now. Before moving here the amount of times I’d visited Manchester was literally in the single figures. I’m still in awe of the music scene, the clubs, the history of the place, hell; I’ve only been a Courteeners fan for 18 months. Considering that the majority of my family are from Liverpool there’s no chance of them dropping in on me suddenly, another thing I enjoy– in fact a lot of my relatives refuse to go anywhere near Manchester. My dad has come round a bit but I’m still not sure where he stands on me bringing ‘a Manc lad’ home.
I don’t know how everyone else feels but the thought of moving back home at the end of next year makes me panic slightly. I highly doubt anyone else feels this strongly though; moving back home to somewhere like Leeds or London is hardly a big change.
I know for a fact that no matter how much debt I get into I will never regret the decision to come to university. On a sunny day I never feel better to have access to such brilliant places.
I’ve spent the weekend just gone travelling between Liverpool and Manchester and I couldn’t feel luckier. Maybe I’m just easily pleased.
GrrlzOnFilm 