Highway to Hull
A Christian Comedy Blog
Born and raised in Kingston upon Hull, I grew up thinking the way we spoke, laughed, and lived was just… normal. It wasn’t until I left that I realised—apparently—I have an accent. Who knew?
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Hull is one of a kind: fiercely proud, endlessly resilient, and full of character. From its rich maritime history to its warm, straight-talking people, there’s nowhere quite like it. Yet stepping outside the HU postcode can feel like crossing cultural borders—suddenly you’re repeating yourself, defending chip spice, and explaining that it isn't pronounced Hal or Hell.
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This page takes a light-hearted look at the quirks, confusions, and occasional chaos that come with being from Hull and relocating down south. It’s about identity, pride, and the humour you find in those little moments when you realise just how unique your city truly is.
The problem with coming from Hull... in church.
It may seem odd to suggest that being from a certain place causes problems for you in church. Certainly growing up, I never considered there to be an issue. It wasn't until I ventured down south (to Nottingham) for University that I realised, not everyone speaks like me. Prior to this, the only time people commented on the way I spoke was to point out I was a little push for saying 'we were' instead of 'we was'. Suddenly I would be in conversations with stranger and friends alike who didn't know what a croggy was, where you might find a ten-foot, how to order a patty and chips or what you put inside a bread-cake. The world outside Hull, it turned out, was a strange and forbidding place. To make maters worse, there were certain words, certain phrases, certain pronunciations that immediately caused those some amusement, not just to chuckle mind you, no a full on laugh. I said 'caused' using the past tense but the truth is that 27 years later and some of my best friends still find humour in it.
Never is this more true than when I am leading worship. What do I mean? Well watch the videos to find out.