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Where it’s grim. To those of us from the deep south, Portsmouth for example, oop north is anywhere above London. Maybe even some parts of north London. I’ve never had a distinct geographical grasp of where oop north is, although I have found that people from the Midlands get particularly annoyed if you call them northerners. But this can’t be helped, they shouldn’t be from the north should they? They should’ve chosen a more southerly place of birth if they didn’t want to be considered northerners.

Oop north is a whole different country. The customs and traditions held are not those held in the south, the real England. The whole place is backwards. You can see it in their eyes when they travel South. On the back of any spare cows that they’ve found in their fields. Because there is an abundance of space oop north. But the inhabitants decided the best way to utilise this space was to cluster together in tiny mine towns and ride around on cows. Because there isn’t much to do if you’re not underground or riding to see your friends on the back of a cow.

The air smells of coal dust and despair. Which is why so many of the inhabitants wear cloth caps. It stops the dust from settling on their oddly shaped heads. Other than this there isn’t much use in the old cloth caps, you only need to get between the coal mine and the pub. And once you’re in the pub you can drink as much tar as you want, or ale as it’s known to the locals. Did I forget to mention the odd slang that has sprung up in the hilly northern climbs?

Ale for tar is the only bit of terminology that I’ve ever managed to actually decipher. The rest of the time it appears to be that the only form of communication above London is to grunt and nod. Which is fine as a pidgin language, but come on guys, you’re onto a creole now. Keep up with the times. You’ll find it a lot easier to move your basic towns on if you can learn how to actually talk to each other. But I suppose the creation of the coal mines was something? I’m going to have to assume that was a southern initiative though, to try and help the north to make something of themselves.

The north, much like the past, is a foreign country and I’m too scared to leave my own country. Besides, I don’t have a passport. Why should I need one? One day, some day, I might visit the north. To see what the fuss is all about, to see if it really is that grim. To see if it really is just full of tar and coal mines. Maybe it is, maybe I’ll change my mind and migrate that way my self. And then I can bitch the soft southerners who just don’t understand that it is beautiful oop north.

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