Bradford Calling
In what will probably come as something of a relief to readers of this blog, yesterday's match against the giants that are Burton Albion was postponed - something to do with it being a bit cold - and so I shan’t be moaning about yet another disappointing yet predictable defeat, futilely defensive playing and the fact that we have a perfectly good player on loan from Hull who we persist on playing for ten minute stints only, making me wonder quite what the point of him is.
No, I won’t be writing about that. If by chance you’re interested in my deep thoughts on the subject, carefully withheld from the public until such eminent commentators as Michael Wood had said them first, thus legitimizing them (I’m a girly girl, you see, and as such incapable of forming such opinions by myself) then you can check out the Boy From Brazil website. Here you will find a throwaway remark suggesting that Burton Albion fans who’d rocked up to Bradford expecting to see a thrashing only to find themselves wandering around at a loose end should visit the brilliant National Media Museum to pass the time.
Ahhhh the National Media Museum. Yes. I agree wholeheartedly that this is indeed a place everyone should visit. In my day, of course, it didn’t have so grand a title, being known as the somewhat less catchy “National Museum of Photography, Film and Television”. This was an absolute goldmine of a place for small children at a time when the most exciting thing that could possibly happen to you was to open a packet of crisps to find a piece of paper telling you you’d won another packet of crisps. In particular, they had one state-of-the-art exhibit where you got to pretend you were a newsreader. You sat in a small booth on a non-adjustable chair, so if you were below about 5 feet tall, i.e. if you were a child, all you could see on the playback was your head poking over the top of a large desk. There was an introduction with a sombre voiceover by, I think, Michael Burke, then you had to read an autocue. The choice of news story was, on reflection, perhaps not perfect for the hoards of youngsters who had a go, being a report on the famine in Ethiopia, accompanied by graphic images of dying children. When I went back 15 years later in an attempt to persuade my southern boyfriend that there was more to my city than mushy peas and racial violence (the likes of Wikipedia don’t help when they list Peter Sutcliffe among their “notable Bradfordians” but forget about the likes of Adrian Edmonson and Delius) they were still using the same news story, and around half the other interactive exhibits were out of order.
But what else is there to do in Bradford? Well, lots, apparently. We’ve come a long way since we ran for Capital of Culture in 2003, setting up a “Bradford Embassy” in Trafalgar Square which consisted of free Bombay Mix and posters of Gareth Gates and a bloke handing out leaflets to the handful of people who turned up reminding them that we were quite good at rugby. There’s so much to do in Bradford, in fact, that Visit Bradford has confidently produced a page entitled “50 things to do in Bradford”. Now, OK, quite a lot of these are not actually in Bradford. Many are, predictably, connected to the Bronte sites in Haworth and several basically suggest “leave Bradford and explore the countryside around it which is all pretty and that”. Others are positively clutching at straws: apparently we have a Museum of Reed Organs and Harmoniums, unbelievably the only one if its kind in the UK, and elsewhere in the list they suggest you might want to visit a cemetery or simply eat a curry. But even when you discard those they’ve still come up with a good 30 or so attractions, and they’ve not even mentioned the ice rink, or the fact we have no less than 3 branches of Greggs in Kirkgate alone.
So as Monty Python might say, apart from the National Media Museum, famous serial killers and harmoniums, what has Bradford got to offer us? Well, in case you’re popping up there any time soon, here’s my list of things to see:
1. Saltaire. I could write pages and pages on Saltaire. It’s possibly my favourite place in the UK. Briefly, it was built by a wealthy businessman to house his mill workers in the 19th century, and it’s now a UNESCO world heritage site. The mill itself has been converted into a gallery featuring works of art by David Hockney, with the upper floors selling, somewhat bizarrely, vintage designer furniture. Nice scones in the cafe, too. As for the area itself, the houses are gorgeous, and Roberts Park is lovely. And it has its own brewery. How many places can say all of that?
2. They’re probably right about the curry, but I’m not sure I’d go with their choices. You might want to try the Three Singhs, simply because it has an awesome name (and, incidentally, they used to sponsor Dean Windass). Alternatively head to Omar’s Balti House on Great Horton Road, famous for selling naan breads large enough for the whole of your party to share. I took my husband there once and he commented on how few cats you see on the street in that area, but don’t let that put you off.
3. The National Museum, as I said above. I’m told they’ve mended the buttons on the interactive exhibits so sometimes they actually work now. If you do go, let me know what news story they use these days.
4. Have a mosey round Buttershaw. I promise that, contrary to popular opinion, you’re unlikely to be propositioned by a crack whore if you head over there. It’s all famous now, being where Andrea Dunbar lived and as such being recently used in The Arbor and, maybe more famously, in Rita, Sue and Bob Too. The Guardian even claims we beat LA in some respects these days, and who am I to argue with the Guardian? And who needs Hollywood anyway?
5. Get proper fish and chips. They can’t do them down south. Mother Hubbard’s, a Saturday treat when we couldn’t be arsed to cook and where you got a nice cup of tea with your jumbo haddock, has sadly gone, but there are plenty of other places. You might want to follow this up with a proper pint - Bradford's full of real ale pubs with sensible (i.e. not London) prices.
6. Bradford University’s Peace Museum. Whilst my own institution has a museum full of misshapen human body parts pickled in jars, Bradford has a museum optimistically dedicated to Peace. Awww. Incidentally, their Peace Studies department plays our War Studies Department every year for the Tolstoy cup, annually kicking our war-mongering ass.
7. Keep your eyes open for misspellings and mistakes on signs. Only in Bradford can you get a carpet shop called “Alladins’s Cave” and a corner shop that claims to be “Open 7 days a week. Closed Fridays.”
8. The Bronte Birth Place. OK, so you can visit the all-singing, all-dancing Bronte Parsonage Museum in Haworth, but few people realise the Brontes were actually born in Thornton in Bradford. When I was a kid this building housed an underwhelming tearoom, but now they've jumped on the commercial bandwagon and for a small fee they actually let you in to look at reconstuctions of what it might have looked like in the old days, sort of like a pre-Victorian version of the pretend rooms at MFI.
9. Architecture. Carefully hidden amongst the Brutalist monstrosities of the city centre there’s some amazing Victorian architecture, from the Town Hall to Listers Mill, from Cartwright Hall to the Wool Exchange (which now houses a branch of Waterstones), from the Midland Hotel to the fabulous Alhambra Theatre and of course the Cathedral.
10. Valley Parade. Home of Bradford City. Of course. I’m sorry, but it had to be done.
So there you are. In this age of austerity, I hope I might have persuaded you to consider West Yorkshire for your summer getaway this year.
No, I won’t be writing about that. If by chance you’re interested in my deep thoughts on the subject, carefully withheld from the public until such eminent commentators as Michael Wood had said them first, thus legitimizing them (I’m a girly girl, you see, and as such incapable of forming such opinions by myself) then you can check out the Boy From Brazil website. Here you will find a throwaway remark suggesting that Burton Albion fans who’d rocked up to Bradford expecting to see a thrashing only to find themselves wandering around at a loose end should visit the brilliant National Media Museum to pass the time.
Ahhhh the National Media Museum. Yes. I agree wholeheartedly that this is indeed a place everyone should visit. In my day, of course, it didn’t have so grand a title, being known as the somewhat less catchy “National Museum of Photography, Film and Television”. This was an absolute goldmine of a place for small children at a time when the most exciting thing that could possibly happen to you was to open a packet of crisps to find a piece of paper telling you you’d won another packet of crisps. In particular, they had one state-of-the-art exhibit where you got to pretend you were a newsreader. You sat in a small booth on a non-adjustable chair, so if you were below about 5 feet tall, i.e. if you were a child, all you could see on the playback was your head poking over the top of a large desk. There was an introduction with a sombre voiceover by, I think, Michael Burke, then you had to read an autocue. The choice of news story was, on reflection, perhaps not perfect for the hoards of youngsters who had a go, being a report on the famine in Ethiopia, accompanied by graphic images of dying children. When I went back 15 years later in an attempt to persuade my southern boyfriend that there was more to my city than mushy peas and racial violence (the likes of Wikipedia don’t help when they list Peter Sutcliffe among their “notable Bradfordians” but forget about the likes of Adrian Edmonson and Delius) they were still using the same news story, and around half the other interactive exhibits were out of order.
But what else is there to do in Bradford? Well, lots, apparently. We’ve come a long way since we ran for Capital of Culture in 2003, setting up a “Bradford Embassy” in Trafalgar Square which consisted of free Bombay Mix and posters of Gareth Gates and a bloke handing out leaflets to the handful of people who turned up reminding them that we were quite good at rugby. There’s so much to do in Bradford, in fact, that Visit Bradford has confidently produced a page entitled “50 things to do in Bradford”. Now, OK, quite a lot of these are not actually in Bradford. Many are, predictably, connected to the Bronte sites in Haworth and several basically suggest “leave Bradford and explore the countryside around it which is all pretty and that”. Others are positively clutching at straws: apparently we have a Museum of Reed Organs and Harmoniums, unbelievably the only one if its kind in the UK, and elsewhere in the list they suggest you might want to visit a cemetery or simply eat a curry. But even when you discard those they’ve still come up with a good 30 or so attractions, and they’ve not even mentioned the ice rink, or the fact we have no less than 3 branches of Greggs in Kirkgate alone.
So as Monty Python might say, apart from the National Media Museum, famous serial killers and harmoniums, what has Bradford got to offer us? Well, in case you’re popping up there any time soon, here’s my list of things to see:
1. Saltaire. I could write pages and pages on Saltaire. It’s possibly my favourite place in the UK. Briefly, it was built by a wealthy businessman to house his mill workers in the 19th century, and it’s now a UNESCO world heritage site. The mill itself has been converted into a gallery featuring works of art by David Hockney, with the upper floors selling, somewhat bizarrely, vintage designer furniture. Nice scones in the cafe, too. As for the area itself, the houses are gorgeous, and Roberts Park is lovely. And it has its own brewery. How many places can say all of that?
2. They’re probably right about the curry, but I’m not sure I’d go with their choices. You might want to try the Three Singhs, simply because it has an awesome name (and, incidentally, they used to sponsor Dean Windass). Alternatively head to Omar’s Balti House on Great Horton Road, famous for selling naan breads large enough for the whole of your party to share. I took my husband there once and he commented on how few cats you see on the street in that area, but don’t let that put you off.
3. The National Museum, as I said above. I’m told they’ve mended the buttons on the interactive exhibits so sometimes they actually work now. If you do go, let me know what news story they use these days.
4. Have a mosey round Buttershaw. I promise that, contrary to popular opinion, you’re unlikely to be propositioned by a crack whore if you head over there. It’s all famous now, being where Andrea Dunbar lived and as such being recently used in The Arbor and, maybe more famously, in Rita, Sue and Bob Too. The Guardian even claims we beat LA in some respects these days, and who am I to argue with the Guardian? And who needs Hollywood anyway?
5. Get proper fish and chips. They can’t do them down south. Mother Hubbard’s, a Saturday treat when we couldn’t be arsed to cook and where you got a nice cup of tea with your jumbo haddock, has sadly gone, but there are plenty of other places. You might want to follow this up with a proper pint - Bradford's full of real ale pubs with sensible (i.e. not London) prices.
6. Bradford University’s Peace Museum. Whilst my own institution has a museum full of misshapen human body parts pickled in jars, Bradford has a museum optimistically dedicated to Peace. Awww. Incidentally, their Peace Studies department plays our War Studies Department every year for the Tolstoy cup, annually kicking our war-mongering ass.
7. Keep your eyes open for misspellings and mistakes on signs. Only in Bradford can you get a carpet shop called “Alladins’s Cave” and a corner shop that claims to be “Open 7 days a week. Closed Fridays.”
8. The Bronte Birth Place. OK, so you can visit the all-singing, all-dancing Bronte Parsonage Museum in Haworth, but few people realise the Brontes were actually born in Thornton in Bradford. When I was a kid this building housed an underwhelming tearoom, but now they've jumped on the commercial bandwagon and for a small fee they actually let you in to look at reconstuctions of what it might have looked like in the old days, sort of like a pre-Victorian version of the pretend rooms at MFI.
9. Architecture. Carefully hidden amongst the Brutalist monstrosities of the city centre there’s some amazing Victorian architecture, from the Town Hall to Listers Mill, from Cartwright Hall to the Wool Exchange (which now houses a branch of Waterstones), from the Midland Hotel to the fabulous Alhambra Theatre and of course the Cathedral.
10. Valley Parade. Home of Bradford City. Of course. I’m sorry, but it had to be done.
So there you are. In this age of austerity, I hope I might have persuaded you to consider West Yorkshire for your summer getaway this year.
posted by RLS at 10:48 pm
0 comments
