That Girl from Derwent dwells on the value of religion this Christmas.
That Girl from Derwent has learned a few more things about prejudice since moving up North.
That Girl From Derwent reckons if you're going to be offensive, you should find a better reason.
That Girl from Derwent considers why it is that some words have wider implications than others.
...you've tried it.
Don't go to York.
The nightlife's rubbish.
Or so I'm told.
It's something we've all heard at some point: York is just some quaint little town with a population of old grannies who spend all day sitting in Betty's. It has precisely two and a half clubs, and those that do exist are constantly being closed and rebranded due to their sheer awfulness. One of my mates even chose a less decent university over York, purely for this reason.
No, if you want to live the exciting student life, run a million miles.
But try asking someone who actually goes to York, and you'll get a different story entirely. They may half-heartedly throw in an “It's not got the best nightlife but...” almost because they're expected to. But if you prompt them to describe the clubs, they'll soon end up accidentally revealing their affection for the places. Some of us may joke about York's pitiful scene, but we all love it really.
Because it was these endless nights out that made the first year so great. Who hasn't had a good time in Ziggy's: the infamous sweat-pit where you can't touch a wall without getting your hand wet? Who hasn't experienced Sunday Night Gallery (affectionately dubbed “SNG”): officially kicking off the week with a night few people remember? Who isn't fond of Willow, the converted Chinese restaurant (complete with free prawn crackers) where people go when they're too drunk to go home after a night in a proper club? I remember once stopping mid-sentence while telling a friend how much I hated Duchess (due to me hating indie-rock, which is, y'know, its main selling point), when I suddenly realised that I'd never had anything less than a bloody brilliant night there.
What is good about the clubs? It's honestly hard to put into words. The music is, for the most part, the usual R'n'B dirge, and you can't go a single night without hearing that fucking Black Eyed Peas song. And, seeing as you can't properly talk to anyone without buggering off to the smoking terrace, what else is there?
But despite this, it's something I literally can't get enough of. Going out has completely destroyed my student loan – to the extent that in the second term I was going out between three and five times a week. I managed to develop a compulsion that when anyone asked me if I was going out, I physically couldn't resist (and, since my friends knew me as someone who was always up for going out, I was asked rather a lot!) And even though I had a 9.15 seminar on Thursday morning throughout that term, I barely missed a single Wednesday Ziggy's night in the entire ten weeks (though, impressively, I made every seminar). That must have meant there was SOMETHING I enjoyed, right?
I have to confess the slagging off York for its nightlife completely baffled me. Never having been clubbing much before I went to uni, it got me wondering: if I enjoy the bad clubs this much, imagine how good a proper one would be! So, being a Londoner, I got a group of mates together and ventured out to Fabric. An amazing reputation, an incredible night out, a place that people from around the country are dying to go to. I was going to be blown away.
Not a patch on Gallery!
The club itself was TECHINICALLY good, sure. It was big, it was lively, but it was also soulless. Instead of the throngs of students and familiar faces, it was a bunch of strangers with their own goals for the night, and while it was packed it seemed like the emptiest room ever.
Because what is clubbing when you boil it down? A bunch of people in a dim, noisy room shuffling about to shit music.
But there's so much more to it!
No students go out for the clubs themselves: they go out for the experience. It's quite unlike anything else: such a great amount of students, all roughly in the same place in life, of the same age, all softened at least a bit by alcohol (at Ziggy's or Willow, drop the “at least a bit”), all putting aside their worries about the next deadline or their flat's conflicts, and all there for the same reason: to have a good time. There's something quite beautiful about it, and I have countless happy memories of the times I've shared with friends - and the new ones I've made – in the rubbish clubs of York.
So, if there are any freshers reading this, then PLEASE don't rule out York's clubbing scene just yet. If you're someone who isn't particularly into clubbing, like I was, or alternatively if you're a regular Fabric-goer who's already decided that the inferior York clubs aren't worth your time, just do one thing: give it a go! Don't dismiss it until you've tried it!
Trust me, you won't regret it. Even if your seminar tutors do.
I've missed the Willow so much over summer. 'pon appearing at said establishment last night, I find it's full of freshers! Ah well. At least they're taking your advice to heart.
I know Greg! I only discovered the Willow in second term. You have to be DRAWN to it, eventually, like a rite of passage. It's sacrilegious for it to be INFESTED thus! It's the place you go to when all else fails... i.e. you've been kicked out of another club too many times and you still want to dance. This is a fact that should be learnt gradually. Sigh. It's not like it was in my day... *grumble grumble*
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