Reasons Not to Hate Belfast

By

A Face For Radio

“Oh god, I can’t wait to get out of this city, it’s so fucking tiny and incestuous.”

Sound familiar? As a Belfast native, I experience this sort of incessant complaining all the time from peers that genuinely believe they are from a country akin to the globe’s arsehole. Less than that actually, more like a skid mark that prays for the day it might be able to be as cool as the arsehole. Why though? Where did this thoroughly tiresome belief come from? It’s true that the Northern Irish are self-deprecating, but so are the British/Irish (delete as appropriate to your ancestry). Conversely though, our neighbours appear to take great pride in their mediocrity. Our pessimistic outlook upon our city and its occupants is a rarer phenomenon; Belfastians are uniquely elderly in their teens. As a result Belfast falls victim to a brain drain, and each September mainland Universities scoop up a load of great young minds and soil them with English accents.

This year I joined the droves by moving to London for higher education, but not for the aforementioned reasons. I wished to take true advantage of the money the government was giving me (despite having recently discovered that the phrase ‘interest free’ is thoroughly malleable) and was not seeking refuge from my fatherland. When my former classmates return from their surrogate homes, they talk as if they were asylum seekers and have finally found sanctum. Well, my friends, I have news for you. Belfast is great. London has taught me this. In order to illustrate my hypothesis I will use an attention span friendly numbering system.

1.     There are no Hipsters in Belfast

Contrary to popular (and panicdots) belief, Hipsters are not present in Belfast. For one thing, nearly everyone in Belfast is perfectly lovely. Secondly, those who may have been previously tarred with the scenester brush do not entirely fulfil the criteria. Hipsters are interested in 3 things; themselves, status and the endless pursuit of freebies. “I know people like that, I complain about them on fastfude!” I hear you cry. However, the Belfast ‘scene,’ if you will, is entirely cultivated around gigs. No matter how many times you hit up The Indie Disco, it is likely that you go to at least one gig a month. This shared passion is what separates the Belfastian from the Londoner. Do you know what music they play at cool parties? That’s right, rubbish music. You can sip Tia Maria’s with Daisy Lowe all you like, you’ll still end up fingering her overweight minder in the corner whilst being serenaded by Britney Spears. And when gigs do happen, it’s even worse. Sure, some excellent acts come through London each week and they attract large crowds, but Hipsters go see ‘their friend in a band,’ not THE BAND. Here, style over substance is coveted. Each Shoreditch circle jerk comes free with an American Apparel model that gets her tits out on stage during the set. Can you imagine a member of La Faro calling up a 15 year old in the audience for a blowjob? Of course not, it would distract from the playing of the instruments. Instruments do not exist in London. Only the pose you make while holding one.

2.     You can go to a pub on your own and run into people

This is surely what I miss most about home. Due to the sheer size of London, it’s impossible to be truly spontaneous. All actions are meticulously planned and colour coordinated name badges are distributed before each night out. Venturing out alone involves a lot of moping about trying to look aloof and pretending you’re being intentionally voyeuristic in preparation for your philosophy dissertation. Walking into Auntie Annie’s on my own is still my favourite thing to do – you’ll either meet a close friend or someone you wouldn’t mind getting to know better. Do not be disheartened by a small population! It is a covetable characteristic of the town that allows all nights to end somewhere you never expected them too. It also means that if you’re friends are being complete wankers you can run away without fear of being lonely all evening.

3.     The ‘Small Pond’ Effect

Come on, do you really think anyone involved in a creative industry in Belfast could ever realise their ideas if they were in another city? When I was 14 I went for work experience with AU, which publishes some of Ireland’s best magazine journalism. I’m pretty sure for Vice to allow you to spend half a day updating their facebook page they require a letter from your optometrist proving you don’t need the oversized lenses your sporting, along with a CV printed on vintage paper and a grainy photo that includes 5 different shades of denim.

4. People stare if you look like an idiot

I currently have fluorescent yellow hair. Do you think I did this shit for no one to stare? Do you realise how frustrating it is for a serial attention seeker to not warrant a double take? Fashion week is a prime example; no one regarded my bap with an ounce of interest. The only way my hair could prompt any enquiries from the glitterati was if I laced the ends with cocaine. In contrast, the moment I get off my Ryanair flight in the shadow of George Best’s signature people gawp at me like I’m completely deranged, which is thoroughly satisfying.

5.     People smile

This point is truly as simple as it implies. Londoners have to take muscle relaxants in order to register any emotion other than melancholic superiority. Bumping into someone in the street has rules in London – frantic waving and grinning is a complete no no. A casual nod is pretty adequate on the whole, and sometimes an enquiry about their new youtube project called ‘Trash Cat – an examination of the culture of self awareness’ is acceptable. Any more interaction and you’re coming on too strong.

So there you have it. I make an appeal to all members of my age group to start loving Belfast. It may not have it’s own edition of Time Out, but at least when you turn up at events you know 90% of the people in the room. Stop hating and start embracing what’s on offer! Go see the Panama Kings again and go to Lavery’s for the third week in a row. Accepting that Belfast is one of the best places in the world is definitely good for the soul.