The Holylands is great but I wouldn’t swap it for being a Stran man

Before you moved up to Belfast your parents warned you about the Holylands – “don’t you be going near there, there’s nothing but trouble” – almost comparing it to the war torn Helmand province in Afghanistan.

Stories about St. Patrick’s Day in the ‘Lands seem to have tainted it’s reputation forever but it will always have a special place in our hearts.

Like a war veteran, ever student serves a tour in the Holylands in either first or second year, and you come out with not so much war scars but great memories and a battered liver.

Third year hits and you retreat to the quieter, warmer Stranmillis – but you’re still in the ‘Lands getting drunk every week.

The worst thing thing about living in the Holylands is the severe lack of sleep. Upon returning home from class for a well deserved nap, there always seemingly some dickhead sat outside their front door on the sofa drinking and blasting music.

Hail, rain, snow or sunshine, you can always guarantee there’s somebody pumping the tunes.

Standard Holylands accommodation

Then there’s the alcoholic residents who sit up drinking all day and just as you’re starting to pre-drink, they’re over complaining about the noise emitting from your house.

If they hadn’t peaked four hours earlier they’d probably be welcome in to join the drinking themselves but they’ve kept you up in the past and so you’re not about to appease them. The highlight of visiting from Stran means it’s not your house, and therefore not your problem.

After a night drinking in the Holylands and it’s almost a tearful thought to know you can return to bed, where no one will disturb your beauty rest. You won’t have to tidy up the pres, because no one wants to pre in Stran and there won’t be a torched out car in front of your house. Bliss.

When the madness of St. Paddy’s starts, as a visitor you don’t have to deal with the pain of a trashed house. There could be a bouncer on a Carmel front door on Paddy’s instructed to only let mates in, yet somehow 476 randomers will still manage to wreck the entire house.

Would you not much rather be one of them randomers, rather than be the one cleaning up the mess (or more than likely, living in that mess until you’re moving out).

Everyone at the party is a randomer off the street

There are some customs of the Holylands that will be missed. Flinging glass bottles up the alley behind your house and organising a pre-drinks on the roof.

You’re less likely to find abandoned mattresses, TVs, baths or fridges in the roads of Stranmillis, making the street decorations far less interesting.

There’ll also be a lack of traffic cones in your sitting room. Your neighbours in Stran probably won’t be tolerant to you letting off fireworks at 5am.

These are the traditions that have been passed down from one generation of Holylanders to the next, although you wouldn’t trade it for the quality living you enjoy now.

Though one can look back fondly on the time spent living in the Holylands, you probably wouldn’t move back even if the rent was free. Houses elsewhere are much nicer quality, there’s less mould and might even make it out of uni with your car intact.

But you’ll still always end up in the ‘Lands on the rip though – the craic just isn’t the same anywhere else.