North Wales

Going up t’North is great. Isn’t it?

Nothing beats that t’Northern fresh air, and the icy dew on the t’Northern fields. Especially where I’m from un t’North. I’m from t’North Wales. Mold to be precise. It smells of greenery up there. And at night, you can see all the stars due to the lack of light pollution. Some know of t’North as a place of t’Northern scally wags. It’s nothing like that, it’s really not. Unless you go to some t’Northern parts, like Ellesmere Port (that’s a right rough t’Northern place)… Or Runcorn. Runcorn isn’t so bad actually, but I guess what I’m trying to say is, t’North is a lovely place.

The reason why I’m spreading my t’Northern joy, is because I’ve just been up t’North, just last week actually. Went to see my folks, had a t’Northern cuppa tea (t’Northern water is so much softer than t’Southern water, no limescale up t’North that’s for sure). I didn’t eat a Greggs though. That’s a classic t’Northern delicacy, that is. A good old Chicken Bake from Greggs. I’ve spent many of t’Northern good times munching on one of ‘em.

And here I am, back in t’South. It’s was good whilst it lasted, but t’North will only be there for it’s t’Novelty. Like I say, the t’Northern fresh air and the pasties. At one point in life, I would call t’North ‘home’. Unfortunately, it’s just ‘Mum and Dad’s’ now, but that’s because after six whole years of living in t’South, this my home. London.

P.s. How annoying was it reading that? All those t’s. It really takes you away from the feel of the story. Feeling aggravated now? t’Hahahaha