It is a long-standing tradition that as a columnist studying abroad, I am permitted one column per semester to devote to the foreign land where I live. Since I used up all of my armchair sociology on essays for the Berkley Center, I’ve decided to take a slightly less self-indulgent route with this column. Having spent the past fortnight on a road trip around Britain with my uncle, I’m going to provide you with some more useful insight than “Why I think Catholics and Protestants still don’t get along in Glasgow.” I’m going to try my hand at travel writing.
British cities can, more or less, be divided into two categories: historic and post-industrial. Both categories have much to offer, and no trip to the island would be complete without visits to towns that show both sides of Britain. London, the island’s only true metropolis, is a great place to visit because it stands on both sides of this divide. But there are many smaller towns on each side that provide a less hackneyed—and, I’m inclined to believe, more genuine (or at the least, more diverse)—look into a country so rich in history.
On the older side, towns like York and Canterbury have reputations as epicenters of antiquity. Although each town’s architecture looks as though it hasn’t changed since the 1300s, an unfortunate proliferation of in-costume street performers and souvenir shops gives these towns a bit of a Disneyland feel. Go to Bath, then, for a more genuine experience. In addition to showing the often overlooked Roman influence on English culture, its only obscenely touristy attraction—the baths themselves—are presented in a surprisingly tasteful way. And, unlike some of the other older towns, it has a great club/pub scene that boasts cheaper prices than even working-class Glasgow.
With that said, pretty much every one of these working-class, post-industrial towns—Leeds, Liverpool, Sheffield, Newcastle, really anywhere with a “Millennium Bridge”—has excellent arts and club scenes. These gigantic Brooklynesque cities, where the most troublesome people you’ll run into are high schoolers with tracksuits (okay, and knives, but still). Although your uncle will be disappointed by the uninteresting architecture, he’ll eventually notice the myriad new constructions and take the opportunity to explain to you every facet of construction work. Do not expect him to go to any of the wonderful art galleries in each of these towns, but he’ll gladly question the usefulness of a liberal arts education any time you suggest a visit to the excellent Tate Liverpool.
The other two nations that make up the United Kingdom—thanks in no small part to their generally poorer histories—have some of the finest cities in the post-industrial category. Both Glasgow and Cardiff have gentrified nearly as well as Liverpool (and far better than any of their other British counterparts), and each are rich in culture and nightlife. Your uncle will likely disapprove of the tight pants so popular in Glasgow (and question why you have so readily adopted this trend—don’t you have the good ol’ Collins genes?) but become enamored with (in a strictly bromantic way) the square-jawed men that populate Cardiff. Although you may be frightened by the football-fueled violence in the town, your uncle will nonetheless want to go to the rowdiest bar during the fiercest rivalry game. Thankfully, Cardiff is also the home of Brains Brewery, whose SA bitter is one of the few beers you’ll actually enjoy in two weeks of avoiding mixed drinks.
The real beauty of Scotland and Wales, however, is in the beautiful scenery in their northern regions. Although the chalk cliffs along England’s south coast are lovely (insider’s note: Brighton’s Seven Sisters Cliffs are more impressive than the famous Cliffs of Dover) and the Lake District inspired many of England’s romantic poets, England came out on the short end of the AONB stick. (AONB is an acronym seriously used by the UK government for “Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty”). Instead, Wales’s Snowdonia and especially Scotland’s Highlands should make your itinerary. Although each has plenty of sheep, they lie on opposite ends of the island’s scenic continuum. Snowdonia is full of lush greenery and misty mountaintops, while the Scottish Highlands—(namely, the beautiful Glen Coe)—are rough, jagged, and barren. Much like references to Wordsworth in the Lake District, attempts to describe the scenery to your uncle in any way other than “that looks nice” should be avoided.
Although public transit in the UK is well-maintained, a rental car is recommended in order to enjoy the country’s scenery. Although driving on the left side can be tricky, rest assured that your uncle will do all of the driving, lest he be upstaged. Be sure to sharpen your navigation skills, however, as you are likely to get lost every time your uncle decides he knows better than the street signs.
