It sucks to live in the Home Counties

From the White Cliffs of Dover to Ali G’s John Nike Leisure Centre this glorious land simply has it all. 

But everyone at Bristol appears to have a complete void in their knowledge when it comes to the Home Counties.

They simply do not know what the Home Counties are, or where they are. 

Remember those carefree childhood trips to Legoland? Braving Stealth at Thorpe Park? That 24 hour bender in Brighton?

All these places fall within the Home Counties and yet even the most competent geographers among us have no idea where they are.

No one knows or cares

This can be dispiriting.

After several months of trying, I have now accepted there is little or no point describing where I live. Informing people I live in Berkshire is met with blank, puzzled expressions, so to all strangers I now officially live in London.

Not only do people not know, they also don’t care. This is a harsh reality that we have to face. Nobody did, does or will care about the Home Counties at Bristol. If you’re not from London you may as well not be here.

Londoners are completely oblivious

Bristol is crawling with people from the capital, that’s well documented.

While those living in London could be excused for not knowing where Sheffield is, it’s mildly depressing when your average Londoner thinks the Home Counties is a tube stop in Zone 100.

This is despite the Home Counties literally encircling Britain’s largest city. In fact, some Londoners are so ignorant you wonder if they have ever dared step outside the M25.

A typical conversation might go something like this:

Londoner: Where you from mate?

Me: Kent

Londoner: That’s North London right?

Me:

Identity Crisis

This can be a real problem for us Home Counties folk.

Would we rather exist as nobodies from strange, alien lands like Hertfordshire or Buckinghamshire or scrape into the London crowd bearing top knots and jumpers five times too big for us? Do we wear the Southerner tag with pride or with embarrassment?

Then there is also the assumption that we are all posh pricks. Admittedly this is kind of true, you are very likely to get your fair share of red trouser rahs from Sussex.

But the Home Counties also contains Essex, which itself contains The Only Way is Essex, which itself contains a club called SugarHut and that fat woman off I’m a Celeb….so we’re not that posh.