Leeds: Capital of the North
Entering Leeds along the highway, you are confronted almost instantly by the sight of two hideous apartment blocks, squat and grey and concrete, with incongruous streaks of blue and pink running down their middle. Beside you the scene is that of urban squalor and urban renewal: construction sites and decrepit buildings, bare flyovers and struggling spots of greenery. After the almost pastoral idyll of the English countryside, this can come as abit of a shock. The bus deposits you opposite a squat building that advertises itself as a "bar and a grill" but brings to mind more of a seedy underground club. Above it the tram lines mar the skyline. The place looks grimy, a little scruffy even.
But behind you sits a pretty and well-maintained church, with a pleasant grove at its side. The streets are fairly bright and spacious. The first person you ask for directions does so in a friendly manner. As you walk through the city, you are confronted with its dual face of beauty and ugliness -- metal buildings, concrete and scruffy apartment blocks sit next to dignified Victorian buildings that line the city Centre. Facing these buildings is a bright and modern shopping mall, and the shops here would not be out of place in Orchard Road or Hong Kong. For a modern metropolis, the central city market is surprisingly active and bustling, with shopkeepers displaying their varied wares.
Welcome to Leeds, apparently the UK's largest centre for business, legal, and financial services outside London, and also it's fastest growing city. This city's purpose is business, and this is evident from the shops that line the streets, the pace of the people, the emphasis on the financial institutions of power in the centre. This city, you feel, has not much time for the past: and indeed elegant pieces of Victorian architecture such as the Post Office have now become restaurants or cafes. A village church is now a bar, and the old City Hall that still sits imposingly in its own corner of the square is, you feel, no longer at the heart of the city but a forgotten observor of it, while as many of the present buildings have been co-opted into the modern age as possible.
It's not a bad city, if you look at it from a certain angle. It is sprawling, and has its scruffy sides, but on the whole this is a vibrant, active city, with a strong nightlife and a people who look happy to be where they are or at least where they think they are going. Walking around the main arteries of the city, you can feel its energy, the pulse beating loud and strong.
But my tastes run in other directions, so when after dinner I took a walk around and chanced upon a well-heeled, leafy suburbian area, I wandered around enchanted at the beautifully designed gardens, the almost fairy-tale like houses, the Hobbiton feel of the village. I almost expected to see, as I walked around the corner, a dignified old Hobbit puffing on his pipe, or the witch from Hansel and Gretel, asking me to come in.
But no, it was only the bus stop, red and plastic shelter waiting for a bus to take it to where the action is.
But behind you sits a pretty and well-maintained church, with a pleasant grove at its side. The streets are fairly bright and spacious. The first person you ask for directions does so in a friendly manner. As you walk through the city, you are confronted with its dual face of beauty and ugliness -- metal buildings, concrete and scruffy apartment blocks sit next to dignified Victorian buildings that line the city Centre. Facing these buildings is a bright and modern shopping mall, and the shops here would not be out of place in Orchard Road or Hong Kong. For a modern metropolis, the central city market is surprisingly active and bustling, with shopkeepers displaying their varied wares.
Welcome to Leeds, apparently the UK's largest centre for business, legal, and financial services outside London, and also it's fastest growing city. This city's purpose is business, and this is evident from the shops that line the streets, the pace of the people, the emphasis on the financial institutions of power in the centre. This city, you feel, has not much time for the past: and indeed elegant pieces of Victorian architecture such as the Post Office have now become restaurants or cafes. A village church is now a bar, and the old City Hall that still sits imposingly in its own corner of the square is, you feel, no longer at the heart of the city but a forgotten observor of it, while as many of the present buildings have been co-opted into the modern age as possible.
It's not a bad city, if you look at it from a certain angle. It is sprawling, and has its scruffy sides, but on the whole this is a vibrant, active city, with a strong nightlife and a people who look happy to be where they are or at least where they think they are going. Walking around the main arteries of the city, you can feel its energy, the pulse beating loud and strong.
But my tastes run in other directions, so when after dinner I took a walk around and chanced upon a well-heeled, leafy suburbian area, I wandered around enchanted at the beautifully designed gardens, the almost fairy-tale like houses, the Hobbiton feel of the village. I almost expected to see, as I walked around the corner, a dignified old Hobbit puffing on his pipe, or the witch from Hansel and Gretel, asking me to come in.
But no, it was only the bus stop, red and plastic shelter waiting for a bus to take it to where the action is.