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I'm part of Barbelith's Southampton posse. That is Southampton, (Olde) Hampshire, UK, from which the Titanic sailed along with a thousand (previous) pugnacious fleets from time immemorial. It was once quite beautiful but got bombed into eensy-weensy bits during the Second World War and is now nothing but an ugly, low-lying, concrete-grey centre of capitalist enterprise. There is little to do here but shop or drink.
That said it's not particularly dangerous, it has a reasonable art gallery, an extensive student population, a few decent clubs, the underground music scene is blossoming and, hey, there's actually a gay bar on the main High Street (rather than hidden away). If there would be one word I would choose to describe it would be, um, pedestrian. Most of the people I know came here to go to college and, well, never achieved escape velocity subsequently. It's close enough to London for regular outings and far enough away to avoid the crud. And it's a damn sight better than where I grew up.
Best of all are the people: We have a disproportionate number of 'lithers and let's face it - Southampton 'lithers are damn sexy. |
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