Lost in Suburbia
Captain’s Log #003
Hidden behind the Wild West of Blackpool’s city centre, one finds suburbia. A beautiful, mystical land filled with well-kept houses, blossoming trees and the typical family activities. So far removed from the shut shops, the hoards of hen parties, and drunk brawls, it almost feels like a completely different town.
The past weeks I haven’t ventured very far into Blackpool, staying inside the co-living space provides enough entertainment and stimulation. The occasional trips to the supermarket or local café are the largest contact point with my neighbourhood. Excursions to the Peak & Lake district, also kept me busy and I came to neglect what was right on my door step.
But this all changed today.
My growing interest in Ultra marathons is once again pushing me out to run and explore the neighbourhoods I’m too lazy to simply walk through. Lazy, not because of the movement, it’s the slowness or monotony that bores me. The town centre provides better variety in that case, with interesting characters and weird attractions. But jogging past family homes, shops, schools, and whatever else one finds in the suburbs, fills me with peace. Quickly I get lost in the winding streets and find myself further from home than intended. I don’t mind however. I’m too distracted immersing myself in the theatre play of mundane life I’ve been so eager to find.
I’ve finally re-discovered the side of England I know, love & missed
The England from my childhood, weather always grey but life going its steady pace. Not too crazy, not over the top, but a gentle rhythm you are sure is sustainable and real. It’s easy to sink into the familiarity of the family houses, all the same, yet slightly different. Hear the happy screams of children playing on the playground. Passing by people heading to the gym or gathering for a morning run. Watch young, prideful parents cheer on their kids playing football. It’s so easy to imagine yourself standing among this community one day, a soft cushion of hope when times seem uncertain.
As I try to head back home, I finally see in the distance the rollercoasters of the Pleasure Beach Amusement Park. A surreal backdrop to the everyday life I just witnessed, reminding me that this town’s economy centres around tourism and entertainment. The football stadium and Blackpool Tower providing more orientation points but once again feel like an alien painted them into the sky. They are hovering over the citizens living their life peacefully tucked away from the madness of the promenade shops and drunk tourists.
Blackpool — the epitome of authenticity
High on the endorphins and insight into this beautiful reality, I feel myself falling deeper in love with Blackpool. Whilst the city centre is mainly filled with impersonal chains and tourist attractions, with just a five minute walk, one can immediately witness real life happening. In other tourist destinations, you will have to look harder than that. But Blackpool isn’t ashamed of displaying its closed shops, mundane activities, and hardship every town experiences.
Blackpool stays honest to itself and its citizens, and this authenticity reminds you that no matter what glory days have passed or are yet to come — the city’s energy will continue to beat in a steady rhythm.
And I am truly honoured to witness it.
