Bristol is really weird when nobody is here over summer

The locals put fairy liquid in the fountains


You’d think a summer visit to Bristol would be a good opportunity: to get a change of scenery, to re-discover your independence away from your parents, to utilize the place you’re spending loooooaaads of money on without even living there.

But free of everyone other than the international students, the city, which still has a fair amount of je ne sais quoi, is somehow not quite the same.

Anyhow, who needs friends when you have a herd of spangled Shaun the Sheep interspersed around the city? If you’re short of things to do, why not try and find all 70? It’s no worse than taking an acid induced roam around Lakota.

Note how lovely the harbourside looks. How tranquil, how serene.

When night falls, without the gurning student pop around the antics in the city centre are more Maga than Motion. I watched as someone chucked a cheeky bottle of fairy liquid (or 20) into the fountain. Such bantz.

And somebody chucked a traffic cone on poor old Neptune here.

If you’re truly missing your home away from home, staring lonesome out of the window, romanticizing about the time in Lounge your mate threw up on your arm while Pitbull’s ‘Timber’ thumped away in the background, hopefully I can put your mind at ease.

This is the jager–soaked bliss you’re missing out on.

If you’re still keen to get down on it, Park Street seems to be the locals’ first port of call.

This solitary whipped cream charger was rolling innocuously like tumbleweed down Park Street, past a solitary Agora promoter. I went inside partly out of pity, partly out of curiosity.

In ancient Greece, the agora was supposedly the cultural hub of the city, the center for artistic, political and spiritual musings… After half an hour of sticky nylon floors and dated cheese, a twat in a tank top spilt his drink all over me, and I realized that I’d probably set my expectations a little high.

Thankfully, stalwarts of the triangle, Jason and his donnervan, were still here to pick up the pieces in the form of a dirty kebab.

It’s not quite the same without you all here.