To Hull and Back
I read in a survey that, of all the British cities, Hull was the one that the fewest people could place: they simply hadn't a clue where it is.
So, just in case you're one of these people, you start at the South Coast, slightly to the right of the middle, and head North until you're just below half-way up the whole island, and you'll find yourself in Leeds! Hurrah!
And now head East along the M62 for what seems to be forever - in fact it's 65 miles - and you come to Hull - full name Kingston-upon-Hull - which isn't really near anywhere of any size - you couldn't really turn up on someone's doorstep in Hull and say "I was just passing" with any conviction, unless you lived in, say, Grimsby, which isn't too far away.
Today I was going to do some work with first-year medical students, and very good they were too. They weren't exactly local, some of them - Belarus and Hungary were where two of them came from.
There's lots of traffic going through Leeds, of course, but once you get on the M62 heading East the traffic always lessens. The flatness of the landscape always surprises me. From Leeds, West is hills and more hills and mountains. Going East, it's flat and more flat. Trees sticking up and shouting at you "This is a TREE" in a way they just don't in the landscapes I'm used to.
But eventually I got to the River Humber, which is wide and has an end-of-the-world feel to it: but in a good way. Estuaries especially always have a very pleasing melancholy. The Humber Bridge is huge and splendid, looming above the A63 - but then I love great big feats of engineering, too.
And finally, to Hull, and to the University, and an interesting afternoon's work. And then back through Hull's rush hour. It's not a scenic city at all: but it does seem rather big and solid and to know what it's about, and the people were friendly.
I stopped at a Little Chef for something to eat on the way back, to let the traffic clear a bit. It was nearly empty and did feel a very long way from Leeds.
And, of course, with the clocks going back, it was dark, and I enjoy driving in the dark with the radio on. Though, if they are going to start playing John Williams' music from Schindler's List, they should at least broadcast a warning first, because I can't see too well to drive when I'm crying.
So, just in case you're one of these people, you start at the South Coast, slightly to the right of the middle, and head North until you're just below half-way up the whole island, and you'll find yourself in Leeds! Hurrah!
And now head East along the M62 for what seems to be forever - in fact it's 65 miles - and you come to Hull - full name Kingston-upon-Hull - which isn't really near anywhere of any size - you couldn't really turn up on someone's doorstep in Hull and say "I was just passing" with any conviction, unless you lived in, say, Grimsby, which isn't too far away.
Today I was going to do some work with first-year medical students, and very good they were too. They weren't exactly local, some of them - Belarus and Hungary were where two of them came from.
There's lots of traffic going through Leeds, of course, but once you get on the M62 heading East the traffic always lessens. The flatness of the landscape always surprises me. From Leeds, West is hills and more hills and mountains. Going East, it's flat and more flat. Trees sticking up and shouting at you "This is a TREE" in a way they just don't in the landscapes I'm used to.
But eventually I got to the River Humber, which is wide and has an end-of-the-world feel to it: but in a good way. Estuaries especially always have a very pleasing melancholy. The Humber Bridge is huge and splendid, looming above the A63 - but then I love great big feats of engineering, too.
And finally, to Hull, and to the University, and an interesting afternoon's work. And then back through Hull's rush hour. It's not a scenic city at all: but it does seem rather big and solid and to know what it's about, and the people were friendly.
I stopped at a Little Chef for something to eat on the way back, to let the traffic clear a bit. It was nearly empty and did feel a very long way from Leeds.
And, of course, with the clocks going back, it was dark, and I enjoy driving in the dark with the radio on. Though, if they are going to start playing John Williams' music from Schindler's List, they should at least broadcast a warning first, because I can't see too well to drive when I'm crying.
posted by Daphne at 9:30 pm
3 Comments:
I have only been to Hull once, and that was to leave it. We got the ferry to Holland...
I used to have the music to Schindler's List on CD, to listen to as I went to sleep. I think I must have had a fairly wide masochistic streak then, looking back - it's just a heartbreaking thing to listen to. Utterly breathtaking though... Now I listen to Oh Brother, Where Art Thou? in bed - it's peaceful without being melencholy and doesn't give me sad dreams...
It is strange the way people's lives interweave. I know exactly where Hull is on a map, in fact I could find it in my sleep. For I was born and raised in that best of all whaling towns.
Amy - now I don't know Oh Brother, Where Art Thou? - - will have to track it down. I love the Schindler's List music but it is just instantly heartbreaking.
Mike, I just want to point out that it's easy to take the piss out of Hull - isolated, industrial - - and I didn't, because I loved the river and I liked the people. So I'm glad you told us that you come from there. The Deep's well worth a visit, if you haven't been: and Hull Truck of course - - and they're building Hull Truck a new theatre, hurrah!
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