Article - Garbiella Parker
70th Wonder of the World
When people say "city life", you think the big apple. You think New York, Seattle, Vegas.
It's hardly surprising that Bristol doesn't appear in the immediate foreground, alongside the greats. But maybe it should.
Maybe Dismaland and the SS Great Britain should be on your Bucket List, right underneath the Taj Mahal and the Empire State Building.
Alright, I admit it, @Bristol is no Seventh Wonder of the World. It might not even be the 70th, if I'm being completely honest. But that's besides the point. The point is Bristol tends to be swept under the carpet quite a bit nowadays. A sort of footnote in the Great Big Book of Sightseeing, as it were.
And, I mean, fair enough. We're not the friendliest bunch, and the weather tends to suck nine times out of ten. There's pigeons and chewing gum and litter...but I'm getting a bit carried away.
Pushing all of that aside, there's a heart to this place.
No, no, I'm serious. It might be a little slow at times, a few beats out of place here and there, but it still works. Under the commuters and cars and the slice of cement, it pumps culture into the very outskirts. The creative scene alone is enough to inspire, if you know where to look.
With art and music and film pouring out of the very cracks in the pavement, it's hard to hate this place. It's hard to hate anywhere if you look hard enough.
Yes, I know what you're thinking. 'But Bristol always has so many tourists!'. I know, I know. I'm getting there, I promise. Because when I think of tourists in Bristol, I think packs of people in caps, snapping pics on their iPhones. I don't think it's quite the same experience in other cities; the overwhelming intensity of New York, the playfully scandalous atmosphere of Vegas. When I visit somewhere, I want to experience it, not just have a picture of me pretending to push the Leaning Tower of Pisa back into place.
For me there's a line between being a tourist and being a visitor, and it's about as thick as my arm.
I'm not asking for the same emotion you'd get at the top of Everest having gotten to the top of Parks Street. And I doubt you're going to have the same epiphany you'd have in Tibetan Monastery in the kebab shop on the corner. But a little enthusiasm would be appreciated. Just go that little bit further, you might be surprise at what you find.
Though, maybe I'm biased. I have lived here my entire life. I know the record store my friend's grandfather works at, and the book shop up the road wherein I stumbled upon my love of words.
I know the cafe my friend showed me, tucked between a tattoo parlour and jewellery store.
I know the bus stop where I will spend half my day waiting, and where I pierced my ears, and where I bought my first guitar. I've gone to birthdays and festivals and going away parties. I've had some of my best memories here.
All I'm saying is, the outside is fairly unappealing. Even the next layer down is pretty dull, in all fairness. But if you take the time to explore, find your bookstore, and your cafe - maybe you'll find that "city life" was here all along.
