Behind the mask

Just read a piece by the ‘great travel writer’ Jan Morris in the Guardian today. I’ve never heard of her but am willing to accept that is entirely down to my ignorance.

My attention was captured by Jan’s attitude to the cities she has visited in a career spanning many decades. Intriguingly, she treats the places she’s visited as people. She’s met them in favourable or unfavourable circumstances at a certain point in time and a relationship has developed of either liking or loathing on both sides.

Yes, that’s right. Jan’s relationships with cities are very definitely reciprocal.

I am one with this. I always feel very black and white about places, especially cities. It is just like meeting a person. You immediately become aware of their personality and whether it’s a good fit with yours. In the case of cities, you either like how they look (architecture, street plan, public spaces) – or you don’t. You either warm to the people (they’re friendly, energetic, helpful or vibrant) – or you don’t.

But there’s something else as well. All cities have their own unmistakeable atmosphere. Perhaps this is the sum total of everything - people, architecture, public spaces, and the businesses that call the city home. But it’s also something less tangible. It’s essence itself and it includes the history, whether turbulent or serene, and location, especially if it’s on a river, beside a mountain or on the coast.

Cities I have known and loved? Bursa in Turkey is one. I spent a year there and constructed a complicated relationship with that metropolis. Nudging the foothills of Uludag (Great Mountain) the city can’t escape the massive mountain rising just behind. It dominates the weather bringing heavy snow in winter and oven-temperature heat in summer. And it dominates the citizens’ thinking as well as it moves in and out of focus like a camera lens (again depending on weather conditions and visibility).

Cities I haven’t? San Sebastian left a strong impression. It might have been because I was tired (and I definitely was because we were camping and there was a thunderstorm right through the night), but I went there ready to love it and just didn’t. It seemed on the surface to have everything – beaches, headlands, shops and cafes, a vibrant population… but something didn’t add up. It just didn’t feel right. We headed back over the border next morning.

I’ve never been back. Just like friendships it’s best to move on. New places, urban spaces, to stimulate your mind and shift your soul. Just glance through a ‘city break’ travel brochure or surf a travel website and notice which places, pictures and descriptions lift your heart.

Who knows, it may be your new city friend calling you home.