Description:

Natalie Burns becomes an honorary Fishponds Northerner when East Midlands meets East Bristol

It’s been about five years since I moved to the fair city of Bristol, all the way from a far away shire – Lincolnshire, to be precise. Like many other adopted Bristolians I’ve met since, I came to the city to study, and despite it not being my original plan, the bright lights drew me in and I’ve never left. However, until this Christmas I’d always thought of myself as a country girl at heart, and of the fens where I grew up as my home. But home is a funny old thing. And time and experience are so imperceptible and ongoing that apparently they can sneak up and slap you round the face with nostalgia and confusion without the least bit of warning, just to remind you that you have precious little say in the overall design of your own life.

Despite doing a degree, moving location and attempting to apply various, mainly futile plans to my existence, I have spent most of adult life working as a barmaid. I was a barmaid up t’North, and I’m a barmaid now, down in Brizzle. Not that I recognised where I came from as the north. To me, it was the East Midlands. Now Newcastle, that was north. But apparently I was wrong, as to your average Bristolian, anywhere above London is up t’North.

Having briefly visited Bath, and seen Bristol city centre on a day out shopping, I was slightly confused when good old UWE assigned me a room in the halls of residence in rough and ready Fishponds. I didn’t know where I was, or where the ‘Bristol’ I had constructed in my mind from that one visit was, either.

When I got my first job (in a little grimy local pub on Fishponds High Street) I realised not only did I have no idea whereabouts in the city I was, I didn’t know where I’d come from either. As I served my first pint and chatted to the local old geezers at the bar, I was confronted with the baffling question, ‘Where you to, me babber?’ What? I was utterly mystified. When I’d spent enough time looking blankly at the bloke who had asked me, he repeated the question; ‘Where you to?’ and ordered a bag of crisps and a pickled egg. Another fine Bristol tradition with which I would become accustomed.

After having worked out that he was asking where I’d come from, I told him Lincolnshire. To which I received the reply, ‘Ah, from up t’North!’ ‘Bet you like pies and peas don’t you, luv’. And so began my education in the North/South divide.

The thing is I had always operated under the assumption that people in the country don’t like city folk, and people in the city are sort of pityingly astounded by people from the country. This is what has endeared Bristol to me so much: our city is different. It is different because it is the sort of city that means I feel comfortable referring to it as ‘our city’ despite having only been here a short time.

People here seem undecided as to whether they are city or country folk. Bristol has the nature of a rural community, despite its size and diversity. It’s full of students most of the year. It’s full of little areas which still have a sense of community. In my experience, the students, the locals, rich, poor, newcomers, old and young; all seem to get along just fine, as long as they can take the piss, and have the piss taken out of them. Bristol certainly has a sense of humour.

I moved out of Fishponds, and have lived in various parts of the city since, but the best thing is I’m not bored yet. I have come to accept that I have a northern twang in my accent which I had not noticed at home. I have come to accept that when I get home, old friends tell me I sound ‘all, you know, alright my luvver, and that’. My partner found it hilarious when I got excited because Tesco was doing ‘half price leg u’tlamb’, so I’m obviously not blending in seamlessly - but the nicest thing is I don’t feel like I have to in order to be welcome...

Click here to read part two

Next Week: Bristol - it's a way of life.

Click here for more Bristol Features