Stop complaining about Liverpool: You could live in a rural village
Some don’t even have cash machines
You’d rather be in Liverpool than a cold Lancashire village with nothing to do, so why do people insist on slagging it off?
It’s barely tolerable when people who don’t live here offend Liverpool because they’re unable to overlook the stereotypes, but when students who actually live here moan about the city it’s just down right irritating. Let’s not forget Liverpool was labelled the third best city to visit in the world.
Do you hate the excessive amount of house nights Liverpool likes to hold? Or do you really really detest Pop World and the way it forces all those passing by to enjoy its irresistibly catchy tunes? At least in Liverpool there’s a infinite selection of clubs you can choose from. Folk from the countryside have literally no options when it comes to nights out: you either listen to the likes of Ke$ha and dance to The Macarena all night in your barn or go to sleep at 7pm ready for tomorrow’s harvest.
Countryside company is questionable too – if you’re lucky enough to find a sub-decent bar it’s usually stuffed with old, bald, sweaty men shouting Blur lyrics at the top of their lungs. The significant underpopulation of the countryside means you’ll always see the same people again and again in the same old places. So if you want to do some club (sorry, pub) necking, you’ll end up snogging a predatory hill-billy neighbour clad in an “Ibiza 2010” vest, who you’ve probably known since primary school.
Pissed off with Arriva? The Liverpool bus service is a godsend compared to rural public transport. Do you get annoyed if you have to wait over 10 minutes for the 699, or have a tantrum when the bus driver pulls up and spends five minutes on his phone before opening the doors? At least you’re not stuck in the middle of a muddy lane with only sheep for company, wondering if the bus that comes once every two days will bother turning up.
In Britain’s rural backwaters you’re lucky if your village even has a bus service, let alone more than one bus running per day. Though this is hardly exciting when you have the option of two different places to visit, with it taking a good couple of hours to get to the nearest “city” (aka large town).
As for daytime entertainment, Liverpool is buzzing with independent events and exhibitions. Oktoberfest, the Sefton Park lantern parade, Liverpool Pride – there’s something going on out there for anyone and everyone. Fancy a thrill? Get yourself down to Garston and hope you’ll be involved in another bomb scare: it’s never quiet by the Mersey. And if you can’t find the perfect event, there’s always Liverpool ONE. Is there a better way to scupper your student loan than on Topshop jeans and Nando’s?
In the country, your entertainment options are limited to “lovely” family walks across the fens, a couple of corner shops selling mouldy fruit and veg, accompanied with by more lovely walks around a reservoir. Countryside villages are ghost towns with high streets full of empty hairdressers, grizzled charity shops and weird, themed miscellaneous shops that go bust after two weeks of trading, only to be replaced with another irrelevant shop. The streets are filled with greying grannies and their tartan trollies. It’s about as exciting as watching paint dry.
So stop moaning about Liverpool and its buses and its house nights and its inhabitants. Stop taking for granted that you live in an awesome city, with so much you do and see and try. Next time you’re bored of Liverpool, or fed up with slow service at the Brookhouse, just think of poor, socially neglected village kids all around the country. Think of those who didn’t get to move away from home, living in a god-awful village where their idea of a night out is four WKDs mixed with a J2O at The Red Lion, and be grateful that isn’t you.