Southampton

At the turn of the millennium, going out in Southampton meant you fit into one of a few boxes: Jumping Jaks, Icon, Diva or, if you were still at school, All Bar One on the high street. For a time, another bar opened huge, with a massive hot air balloon in the middle—and served cocktails that looked and tasted like milkshakes. At the other end of town, edging toward a cooler scene, Bedford Place was still firmly in the university grunge era. Ocean Village although sounds the business only had one thing going for it: the vintage slot machines, including a fortune-teller replica straight out of the movie BIG.I usually graced the dancefloor at Jumping Jaks where I would go for a drink on Thursday and then again on Friday and Saturday and Sunday we usually chilled on Monday. Which brings me nicely on to Craig David. Anyone you spoke to on a night out in Southampton during this era probably had a distant connection to either him or MC Neat (of a little bit of luck fame). Saturdays often also brought out all the Southampton footballers celebrating – their latest loss. It truly was a golden era for the city.Growing up in Southampton everyone listened to Power FM, the local radio station, which hosted a big summer event called Power in the Park. Which everybody in Southampton went to. One year, I went with my friend Julian, who insisted we get to the front of the crowd. Once caged in like sardines, I realized I desperately needed a wee. “Don’t worry,” Julian said. “Just pretend to faint, and they’ll pull you over the barrier.” It worked perfectly. As I was hauled over, Ant or Dec from Ant & Dec—performing Let’s Get Ready to Rumble—gave me a wink. I felt a little guilty that I hadn’t actually fainted from the sheer sight of them but from urgent necessity. Another time at Power in the Park when I was about 15 my boyfriend got hauled off in a police riot van for fighting and I was left to get home by myself. I believe the event stopped running a few years later. *Those who are generous enough to have read a few of my pieces will start to realise I took the long way round when it came to learning about good choices in partners.Shopping in Southampton meant Marlands for the “good” stuff and Bargate for the “bad”—unless you were going through a gothic phase. Then one day, a huge new shopping centre opened: Westfield. It had an entire floor dedicated to food outlets which made it feel like America had landed. I went on opening day with my younger brother. We entered one door, got swept along like the rapids at Romsey (local swimming baths you would go to for someones 12th birthday) and spat out the other end, exhilarated and disoriented.The high street itself was mostly good for HMV and Superdrug. The latter of which my best friend from college worked at and where I would restock my Rimmel lipsticks and ‘reddish brown’ hair dye.Once you had finished shopping you would meet up with someone outside of McDonalds. I have one vivid memory from when I was ten. After reading a newspaper article about cow welfare, I decided I was going to take a stand—change the world, one burger at a time. Armed with an A4 poster I had drawn and my carefully cut-out article, I stood outside McDonald’s, determined. My parents and older sister came along too to oversee the operation, however I stood outside of the window and they sat inside, keeping an eye on me while eating Big Macs (my mum probably a fillet-o-fish!). Eventually, with no tidal wave of support, I joined them inside for a happy meal to cheer me up.Every so often, even now, I feel homesick and I get an urge to ‘go home’ and I always picture Southampton except the reality is, the physicality of its gone. McDonald’s is gone, the nightclubs I frequented are derelict, replaced with new crowds and new buildings—but when I drive past, I can still see them as they were. Perhaps this is what getting older is about: the things that hold a special place in your heart never change. They stay exactly as you remember them, frozen in the moments when you were happiest. The faces we fall in love with, the streets where we grew up, the music we danced to—they live on unchanging, and I also guess that’s where you find home – within our head a special compartment of collected memories.Maybe writing about all of these memories is me coming home. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit toriecampbell.substack.com