The battle of the compass

In a few days, I bid farewell to the hills and valleys of Northernville, wave off the four of us who live in Warrington (mum, dad, brother-dad and aunty Gran) and journey beyond the city centre rabbits nests to where the streets shine with gold made of pixels and itune downloads. Londontown is to be my new residence for the next three months. Hurrah for me? Hurrah for me. Indeed.

Everyone has been very kind about this, partly because the people I know are mostly actors and are very skilled at doing 'kind' if they have to. But mostly- i fear- because they view being in the Northern parts of England as some kind of terrible witch's curse, only to be broken by obtaining the employment amulet of AccentPMG. Perhaps I am being overly sensitive to this. Except I'm not. Of course, I have always been a victim of prejudice because of this fact. I don't need to bring up again my first night of University, when a gang of Southey southey sat me in a chair and played the song 'Northern Birds' to me, in order to establish firmly from the off my place in their society. Again, in the Big Apple, ask anyone; the only place in England is in fact London. (to be fair, I also met a man who thought Scotland was in England, so lets not make too much of their geographical knowhow)

I am not saying that London is not a place filled with wonders, jammy centres and so much culture you have to order it on the side to make sure it doesnt fling itself all over your burger. It certainly is that, and much more (probably). All I am saying is that the pitying look in the eyes when I say the words 'I am from Warrington' does not go unnoticed. Its a look that says, 'oh you. Imagine what could have been eh? Imagine had you not been inflicted with such a terrible disability'. Yes, true, Warrington doesn't have what you Southy folk would call 'museums', or 'shops' or 'oxygen', but dammit, Kerry Katona was born here. Kerry. Katona. Think on.

The thing is, the way I see it is that in the big old chat with God that the North and the South had, the conversations went like this

God- So, little South of England, I see on your form that you have requested lots of Cafe Neros, thousands of people saying the word 'consumer' and flashing neon lights in every Early Learning Centre'
The South- 'Thats right big daddy, ohh yeah, hit me with that shit.'
God-'Hold on hold on I'm getting to it. Now you realise that with all these 'statue and flags' credits you have none left to spend on 'kindness to your fellow man'?
The South- Come on man, dont get me down, can we wrap this up? I got a party to go to, yeah yeahhhh'
God- 'Oh, alright then. I'll throw in lots of scarves and sunglasses as well, seeing as you've done such a good job of convincing America that we are their sidekick'
The South- 'nice one papa. Check you dogs later'
God-' Right, The North.'
The North- 'Hi God. Everything Ok with you today?'
God- 'Ohh, you know. Its alright. My feet are a bit painful, but'
The North- 'Didn't you create feet? Can't you erase your own pain, and indeed your feet for that matter?'
God- 'Shut up, you're ruining this analogy completely'
The North- 'Sorry God. I made you this cake.'
God- 'Oh great! Are the ingredients Marks and Spencer's?'
The North- 'erm.... no. Asda.'
God- 'oh.. oh.. well great, just put it on that table. Now, I see you've asked for 'excellent pasties', 'patience and empathy with those who don't quite know where they are going' and 'lower drinks prices to the MAX'
The North- 'Yes please'
God- 'I see you haven't checked the 'global significance' box
The North- 'Oh no, no thanks. I have a feeling that people will appreciate the fact that our residents are just as intelligent and savy as people from anywhere else, and wont judge them simply because they say 'bath' instead of 'barth.'
God- 'hmmm. well. We'll see shall we?'

And thus it was.

I spent last week in London, and was on a bus when I heard the following exchange between the bus driver and a girl who clearly had only just come to the big city and was in need of help.
girl- 'a single to teddington please'

driver- *judging silence*
girl- *clears throat and waving money* 'a single, please, to teddington?'
Driver- 'Don't accept that'
Girl *looks down at money, wondering for a second if we had in fact just given in and changed to the dollar* sorry?
driver- 'DOn't accept that'
Girl- 'Erm, I just want a single'
Driver- 'You have to use your card'
Girl- 'my card? I can't use cash?'
Driver- 'CAN'T PAY FOR JOURNEY ON THE BUS.'
Girl- *utterly confused* 'what?'
Driver- 'machine outside. Get ticket there'
Girl- 'I can't just, I can't get it from you? But you're about to leave, aren't you?'
Driver- 'yes. can't get it on the bus. Have to go to machine. Get ticket.'
Girl- 'But won't you have gone?'
Driver- *silence*
Girl looks around for help, and finding none, she exits the bus.

The worst thing was that I didn't say anything. mainly becasue I had no idea what she was doing wrong, but still, even if I hadn't, I wasn't even sure that I could have been any help. London is that kid that is beating up someone else, and you don't say anything so that he wont beat you up instead. If we have been oop North, the exchange would have gone thusly

Girl- 'A single to the barn please'
Driver- 'aye, come on in love, ye money's no good here. Would you like to drive? Here's a pot o tea fer yer troubles.Have my coat, yers look cold. No no, you keep it, my lady will just knit me another.'

fact.

Ok, ok, I admit, I am being hugely unfair. But I cannot help but think that considering everyone wants to move to London, everyone there looks instantly unhappy upon arrival. But who am I to talk? I am doing the same thing. I crave the cavernous underground, the shops open until joke o clock, the culture, the people saying things like 'yes but compaing it to his early work, he really has developed a sense of *vaguely french words*'. So we shall see eh? Only time will tell. It could be that I happily become a London human, stocking up on my spare 'r's for words that have no business having them in in the first place. It could be that like beloved old Kerry, I find the big bad world too much and end up back in Iceland, weeping over frozen sausage rolls. Still. It is rarthar exciting, I carn't argue with thart.