All the struggles you’ll face as a southerner in Liverpool
What does La even mean?
Dear Virgin train pilgrims of Liverpool,
I understand. As a fellow southerner we have a deeply rooted love for Liverpool but it doesn’t go without its flaws. The strange native rituals and customs often leave us feeling perplexed and foreign. Despite its welcoming and friendly atmosphere, there are some things that I fear we will never truly understand as southerners in the North.
Scousers love a good chat and they will stop at nothing to get a conversation out of you. It doesn’t matter how much you try to avoid eye contact, or how loud you set your iPod, they’ll always find a way to talk about almost anything. From cab drivers to people at bus stops – they’re out to make a new best friend, even if you’re not.
Cry me Arriva
The reason that buses in Liverpool are painfully inefficient is because all the bus drivers are best friends. They will often beep, wave and even pull over for a quick chinwag despite the 9am you’ve got to get to. In addition to this there seems to be an iron curtain that divides bus drivers. They’re either angels sent from heaven who will let you on despite only having a £20 note, or demons sent from Beelzebub himself who will lose the plot if you ask to jump off early.
The bitter, unadulterated, unrelenting cold. That pretty much sums it up.
I’m a personal fan of the scouse aesthetic. I’m a total supporter of a strong brow, a dark tan and a pearly set of whites. But curlers in public, in the day? The women who wander around Liverpool One with massive pink Velcro curlers holding up the masses of glossy hair above their face will forever confuse, but also inspire, me.
Asking where the cloakroom is in a Liverpool club is like talking French. Bouncers will look frantically at each other as if you’d started speaking Greek until a fellow southerner explains that in the south we wear coats when it’s cold and pay upwards of £1 to a club to look after them for the night. Clearly I’m just not northern enough yet to suffer the cold in a bodycon dress and heels.
The Price Drop
Who could complain about £2 pints? Not me. But a struggle that we do face as southerners is going out when we go back home and feeling horrified to pay £3 for a VK. The same applies for accommodation. Trying to move out down south, you’d be lucky to rent a shed for £80 a week. Here you can share a five bedroom house with Sky Movies and bills included for less.
What is curry sauce and why would you want to cover chips in it? And no, I want a chip butty – not a barm or a bap or whatever you want to call it. I’m struggling enough that the nearest Waitrose is a 3 hour bus ride away. Thank god for Ocado.
As southern ladies we envisage every northern man to have the cutting cheekbones of a peaky blinder and cool confidence of a rock star. The horrible realisation that not everybody from Sheffield is as good looking as Alex Turner was a tough pill to swallow.
But despite the troublesome public transport, the interesting fashion choices, the lack of Waitrose essential tzatziki and the relentlessly inclement weather, we wouldn’t rather be anywhere else, because deep down we do really love Liverpool.