A Wandering Minstrel...Aye! By Trevor Edge

Gallery - Getting Over The Edge

'Ull. The place I was born. The place I have lived 90% of my life. The place I had my first kiss, my first drunken fumblings, my first...well that's another article. I love 'Ull. I love the way it has been portrayed as: a dead end, the a**e of England, the worst city in the UK, the most bombed city during the war (unsure of the truth in that one). Wherever I go I sing the praises of 'Ull to anyone who does, or doesn't, care to listen. I tell them of the friendly people; I believe they are still in the majority. I tell them of the passionate, verging on aggressive, support of local sports teams.

I tell them of the cultural undercurrent which has spawned music marvels like The Housemartins and the somewhat less wondrous Fine Young Cannibals. At the same time I have sly digs about the seedier side of 'Ull: the under-age clubbers you don't know whether to kiss or wind, the dodgy areas where you go in with a car and come out with a go-kart, the local telephone company that corners the markets and sells the most expensive coconut-string combos in the world.

But this is another of the joys of 'Ull, the self-deprecating humour of many inhabitants. I got a lot of grief in school, unsurprising given my humongous intellect and dashing looks, but I always found the best way to beat a bully was to suggest a better insult. If they said you were fat, you said you had your own orbit. If they said you smelt, you said your laundry bag caused Chernobyl. If they said you slept with your sister, you say well at least I got a family discount. In a similar way the rest of the country has poked fun at 'Ull and we have turned around and done it better. You say we don't pronounce H's, we say we're imitating the French to be more European.

You say we're defeatist, we say the glass is never full because we're all alcoholics. How many 'Ullensians does it take to change a light bulb? How would we know? We think bulbs grow in the ground and light comes from the sun. That's assuming the sun's still there, its hard to tell in a county where vampires come for a summer break.

I hear that in the book Craptowns 2 we no longer hold the top spot. Whether this is because the author has mellowed a little and reassessed is hard to tell. Personally I suspect its pressure from one of the Dons of the Orchard Park Mafia. I would have preferred it if he'd had the cahonies to keep us up there. We'd probably have mobbed him as his book signing passed through town and forced him to fight Prescott in a battle to the death, surrounded by a circle of Jags! Why do I rant and rave about 'Ull? I'll tell you why because I'm leaving. Only when you leave 'Ull do you realise how much you miss it. When I was at Uni' my favourite sight was the lights of the Humber Bridge as the National Express ferried me home.

This is the end to my circle; my elephant's graveyard; if I had a hat this would be where it was laid, waiting for me. Leaving 'Ull is like an emotional bungee and there'll be a good few weeks when I'll pop back to check whether the price of Spiders' cocktails has gone up or the cost of KC landlines has come down. The eggy smell near Princes Quay will be fragrant not pungent. The streets will appear gaily coloured as opposed to littered with takeaway boxes. The grass will be greener, the air will be cleaner and the Humber will be a golden, as opposed to grimy, brown.

My path takes me away now, to the west side of the country, in pursuit of love, life, happiness and perhaps a little work. I have a month to say my goodbyes and savour the joys of roundabout ice rinks and Christmas taxi queues. I've checked my passport is valid, as I'll be crossing the Pennines. They'd better have Aunt Bessie's puds over there or I'll have to get my folks to fly a Red Cross parcel over occasionally. I'm wondering how long it will take for me to stop saying fern curls or pearl tax, with any luck never.

Check out the thisisUll.com Gallery. Gallery - Getting Over The Edge

Articles - Writing Life By Darren Sant

	It's strange and sometimes lonely being a writer. Friends look at you with bewilderment. Your partner smiles at you encouragingly but doesn't quite understand how the one she loves can at times appear to be a complete lunatic. This is how it is when you are a writer. Inspiration is like an exotic disease it can strike you down without warning Read more...

Articles - Post-Organic Thrill: Cotton On, and Preserve the World By Steve Rudd

	A great many people profess to preferring the idea of buying organic, but - I wonder - how many of those people actually do go out of their way to ensure that they do buy organic in order to make that difference to both the physical world's wealth and the people who live in the world's health. The main organic Read more...

Articles - Hull's Beauty By DJ Chris Plant

	I decided to take a look at Hull's brand new Beauty Clinic and Hair Salon, BeautyMed and A Cut Above (having heard very good things about them both). I needed the makeover too. BeautyMed is a new clinic situated at Suite 2, 173 Ferensway, Hull (Opposite the railway station). Read more...

Articles - Rock and Roll Tales (Elvis and Me) By Denis Price

	'Go on!'urged Jim, 'Tell him where you saw Elvis'. Wednesday was quiz night at the Corner House and by the time Pete the landlord called for the intermission our team was well .. er .. stimulated and to prove it was well involved with our rivals in a discussion centring on Elvis Read more...

Articles - A SAD DAY (John Peel) by Michelle Dee

	I just got a call from my best friend that has shocked me deeply. So many things flood the mind; first, the disbelief; then the regret of never actually writing to him; of never getting round to sending that CD of some obscure band that you felt sure he'd love. Then guilt follows, knowing that you haven't listened to his rich voice Read more...

Articles - Going Through Doors By Joe Hakim

	My mate from work rings me up and asks me if I want to go out, so I say, Fuck it, why not? I hate going round town, but I've had more nights out over the last few weeks than I've had in ages. I can feel myself de-evolving into something less, yet something more. Somebody stop me. Read more...

Articles - Iraq By Andy Dykes

	So it happened. After weeks of waiting, and a short lived escape, Ken Bigley was finally pinned down and felt the blade of a knife against his neck. It was as close to inevitable as anything could be, given the recent trend for sacrificing hostages in Iraq. But it brought the atrocious nature of Read more...

Articles - No Text Please, We're British By Andrea Longstaff

	What with the advent of the mobile phone. It really is no good for spelling and it seems to be breeding new illnesses. Not to mention we're all gonna be a nation of illiterates with repetitive strain injury! There's sleeping text, this is very similar to sleep walking. You awake in the morning Read more...

Articles - Things To Do Before You're 30 Part 6 By Sarah Tomlinson

	You know, I just got home from watching that new film Wimbledon and I can only think one sentence. Over and over again, and its really bugging me. I'm getting sick of waiting. But I am, I am getting sick of waiting, sick of waiting for my Peter Colt (Paul Bettany Read more...