This time in early November, I was lying on the edge of an air mattress
in my friend’s uni room in London. During my trip, I tried to squeeze in seeing
all my friends who are at uni in the capital and trips to museums in between
lounging about in various different Wetherspoons’ and chain smoking (I have
since kicked the habit). As I sat on the tube rubbing shoulders with busy businessmen
on the Circle line, I noticed that there are several differences between London
and Manchester. Don’t get me wrong, I couldn’t be happier in Manchester and I've
really settled here; but there is a very different vibe in the city’s southern
counterpart.
For one, YikYak in Manchester is a several thousand times better than
YikYak in London. So if you can’t bear to tear yourself away from your phone
and delete the little green app when the hype inevitably dies; Manchester is
where you should be. Or at least where you should set your herd.
London is a lot faster than Manchester. The tube zooms faster than the
Magic Bus and there's no space for you in tunnels as you fumble on Citymapper
trying to find out whether you're supposed to be travelling east or west on the
Central line. There's no illusion that London is a lot more reserved than Manchester
and it isn’t as friendly - but I think
that’s what makes London, London. The capital’s not supposed to be super social
and all about partying.
London has it’s shit together. I feel like I could have a super arty job
in London, but still go out for pink cocktails and wear space buns in my hair
on a Friday night. I think, during the week, London has her skirt suit on and
her hand gripping the overhead handrail on her morning commute; but Manchester has
Lucozade in her hand and creases in
her blouse because she hasn’t bothered to iron it. But that’s okay. That’s exactly
what I need at 19 years old. I need to know how to drink my way to a hangover
just as much as I need to know how to deal with the consequences.
This city is like London’s little sister who gets told by her big
brother that she needs to stop going out so much and get a proper job and a
landline phone. He has a bit of focus in his life; but is partial to a few raspberry
Sourz and a fag.
I think this can be seen in the difference between the two different
types of Freshers Weeks that my friends and I had. My Londoner mates had
significantly more subdued Freshers Weeks which mainly consisted of £22 entry
to non-uni clubs and being immediately drawn into the weekday-weekend contrast
that I mentioned before. Whereas, up north, we had union nights every day of
the week (entry was only £4) and we had 3 hours of introductory lectures which
consisted of the handing out of course booklets and then being dismissed for
the week.
Kensington has its museums, posh bakeries, and people who've made their
money in life; and Moss Side has its murders and muggings. Oxford Street has
its rows of shops and commercial wet dreams; and the Northern Quarter has its
restaurants with moody, low paid waitresses. There’s a palpable difference.
I couldn't rate Manchester more than I currently do and, as I speak, I'm
itching to get on the tram to go to Fifth. Maybe in the future when I want to BUY
a flat and settle down with a secure job I’ll try to move to London; but for
now I'm still young and I don’t want to own a pencil skirt just yet, so I think
I'm content enough sitting on my fourth floor windowsill looking at this city’s skyline.
