With the Fenwick’s windows changing back to their normal self and the last bits of holiday spirit leaving our bodies, January became the month when everything about your toon seems worse than ever. For those who are in need of a good old rant, I present four worst things about Newcastle. And the reason why you shouldn’t care!
1) Public Transport
You know one of these little self-promotion posters that all buses are full of now at the beginning of New Year? “According to a survey, 94% of our busses last year arrived on time. We pride ourselves in the quality of our service”. Every time I sit down in a bus that I just waited for extra fifteen minutes and look at it, I laugh. Perhaps it’s just me, but the busses I take regularly seem to be an exception to this utopian survey that have been conducted with happy people who never oversleep, arrive to a bus stop ten minutes early and leave extra time to get where they need to be. It’s a shame I’m not one of those people.
2) Match Days, Bloody Match Days
I know Newcastle prides itself in its football team and traditions, but Dear God, does it have to be so intense? As someone who works in a sports pub, I can definitely say that even the loveliest and friendliest people in the town becomes wide-eyed predators when Newcastle United is playing. Especially if Newcastle are playing their deadly rivals *whispers* Sunderland. Then the centre of town is a no-go area, because either Newcastle will have won, in which case you’ll have to pick your way across the minefield of happily-passed out drunks, or they’ll have lost in which case beware. Just don’t call them Maccames!
“The town is a vibrant, youthful, fun place to study and work. And all its flaws just give Newcastle a undeniable character and charm”
3) The Wind Blows My Mind
No, seriously. Coming from an Eastern European country, I thought I knew windy. I thought I knew cold. I was wrong. Winter in Newcastle is a different thing. I’m not a small lass, but sometimes I have to literally fight my way to University through that wind. Friends are telling me that it gets windier the further North you go, but I assume people then were coats. Which leads me to my next point…
4) Scantily Clad...Everyone
I remember one of my first nights out in Newcastle – let’s just say I was the weirdo of the group. While every other girl did a ‘bar crawl’ in their sexy mini dresses and skirts, I cozy tugged my winter body in a fluffy coat. It doesn’t surprise me anymore now, but I still wish there was a way to teach girls they would look much more attractive without blue veins and goosebumps on their shivering arms. Nothing screams ‘friendzoned’ like being hospitalised for hypothermia I’d rather wear my thermals than brave the Swingers queue in my strappy top. The Big Market’s appeal, however, is still a great mystery to me.