Moving to Bristol

So after almost two decades of living in deepest darkest Devon, also known as Torquay, three weeks ago I made the biggest decision of my life in moving oop north to the great northern powerhouse that is Bristol. I wonder if they call dinner ‘tea’ up here in the lands beyond the Wall. I’d love to say that I’ve always had it in my heart to live here but the reality of the situation is that raw brutal economics were at the heart of my decision and the prospect of a better career has wrenched me from a life wasting away on the beaches of the deceptively advertised ‘English Riviera’. No longer will I find myself living amongst 100,000 pensioners, a load of manky fake palm trees and one local couple who thought they were moving to Turkey.

Having made the move up the M5, the last few weeks have been a whirlwind of work initiations, cursing at the numbers of idiotic cyclists around this place (they may be green but screw the planet they’re a bloody pain in the arse) and getting to grips with a new city. Bristol has already revealed itself to be an incredibly varied city with many surprising aspects. A quick stroll down Gloucester Road revealed a street that feels more like Shoreditch or Camden in London than anything else I’ve seen in the West Country but just a few streets away in Cotham the city feels more like a swanky spa town. Indeed despite it’s geographic location and self described status as ‘Capital of the West’ Bristol feels very different to the likes of Torbay, Exeter and Plymouth and more like London than a super-sized Exeter. Hopefully as the months go on Bristol will continue to surprise me as much although hopefully the bastard cyclists will start to surprise me just a little less.

As part of the move up to Bristol, I’ve finally decided to do something that I’ve been promising myself for a while and write a blog containing my random thoughts, which will probably consist of moaning about this country, football, moaning about how Generation Y are screwed, history, general moaning, politics and moaning about this country. All very British I’m sure you’ll agree. As you’re reading this right now it’s a good sign that I’ve not been overwhelmed by my general laziness and for once actually engaged my monkey brain into following something through. I don’t expect anyone to read this but here goes…

Moving to Bristol

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