Going back to Wales makes me hate London
People are happy there
When you ask someone where they want to live after Uni, the majority of the time they’ll tell you London.
I understand that to the outsider London seems like a city of endless possibilities: the glamour, the world-famous clubs, the Prets on every corner. But having lived there now for just over a year, I can tell you it really isn’t all it’s hyped up to be.
Going out in any other city is generally a much more enjoyable experience than in London. Everyone seems to be having a genuinely good time, rather than forcing themselves because they’ve just spent £15 on entry and £9 on a double vodka and coke.
A night out in Cardiff will barely make a dent in your pocket, with a lot of clubs offering drinks for ridiculously low prices. £1.70 for a double? Don’t mind if I do. £3 to get in? Absolutely.
What’s more is that nobody really gives a shit about anything in Cardiff – people dress however they want. Whether they’re feeling heels and a body con, or a pair of Nikes and a shell suit jacket, the streets of the Diff are a judgment free zone.
Even the bouncers at most clubs are decent blokes, unlike in London, where even looking at a bouncer the wrong way can get you turned away from a club quicker than a tube driver’s decision to go on strike. In Wales I’ve witnessed people pissing in smoking areas, dancing on furniture, and spewing in plant pots, and the bouncers haven’t given them a second glance.
Some might ask why that’s something to brag about. I brag because it shows you can actually have fun without worrying about being kicked onto the street by some power hungry bald bloke in a windbreaker.
Walking into some clubs in London can be intimidating, with their meticulously designed interiors, obscure techno tracks and haughty clientele. If you feel like you don’t fit in, you’ll spend the whole night being conscious of that fact.
Clubs in other cities, however, welcome you with open arms. Their tacky interiors, sticky dance floors and cheesy music assure you that everything is going to be OK. These clubs are like the mate you’ve had since Year 7 – they’ve seen you at your worst, but they don’t care because that’s what mates are for.
London? That intimidating, stony-faced pee who gives you a dirty look because you coughed.
Other cities are even nicer to look at than London. Yes, London has some impressive architecture, but when you’re seeing the Shard and the London Eye everyday of your life on TV as well as out your window it tends to get tedious, and you come to realise that the architecture is actually just quite boring.
I’m not saying Cardiff is the prettiest of places – the sixties office blocks are a bit grim – but what Cardiff has that London doesn’t is character. The city centre is a mishmash of different types of buildings from different periods, whereas London is sharp, grey and bland. We even have a bloody castle in the middle of the city, so you can shove the Shard.
In fact, the Welsh populus exudes a community vibe in general. There is much more of a sense of community in Cardiff than there is in London. “Cardiff born, Cardiff bred, and when I die I’ll be Cardiff dead”, as the saying goes.
The people of Cardiff, and many other non-London cities, are always willing to make new friends. Some may say chatty strangers are annoying, but there’s nothing wrong with having a natter about life over a cigarette.
The Cardiff population also seem to get excited about everything, while London don’t give a shit. People went mental when a Five Guys opened in town – even the newspapers wrote articles about it. It may seem petty and trivial, but what’s wrong with getting excited over the simple things in life?
Even the way the people of Cardiff carry themselves reflects the city’s laid-back vibe – everyone strolls around like they’ve got all the time in the world. I’ll admit it annoyed me the first time I came home from London, but now I’ve come to appreciate it. What’s the point in rushing about constantly? Live a little.
A lot of people who live in London tend to despise it, wishing they could just up and leave. There’s an air of misery and boredom in London – everything is monotonous. Observing people on the Tube is a perfect example – quiet and tired, with the very notion of even making eye contact with a stranger striking fear into the soul.
Everything is boring to the Londoner. A quirky pop-up restaurant? An exciting art installation? A bar where you can inhale alcohol? Yeah, whatever. The Londoner cares about little more than getting to work as quickly as possible, dashing around to the local pub for an after work £4 pint, and stumbling home to their £200 a week studio flat in Borough.
Give me Wales any day.