Living and working in London, I don’t spend an awful lot of time in Manchester. Just the occasional visit home which whizzes by far too quickly before work commitments call me back. When I do get the odd opportunity to take a walk through the city’s streets, to look up and around me, I always feel a strong sense of gratitude for having grown up here.
I feel lucky that my young mind has been shaped by a special northern spirit and to have inherited a sense of belonging to something really special. Being a proud northern is something I’ve learnt to wear on my sleeve at University, in Paris and in London when I experienced what it’s like to be foreign in other people’s eyes.
I confess that, although my accent has become confused in a mish mash of various influences, the distinctive northern twang really is music to my ears. Whilst I truly believe that London is where I should be – for the moment at least- my passion for my home city is rekindled each and every time I return- and re-find myself- in this wonderful place.