Opporto, Leeds
Where would you find a combination of trendy students and middle-aged philosophy lecturers? Opporto, last night. Get on a Virgin Train from York and blag your way into Club Class by being seen reading FT Weekend food columnist Rowley Leigh. Don’t make the mistake of having a fag (a) in the train carriage, or (b) in the train loos. They’ll realise you’re a student. For the price I paid for a round you could have your hair carefully sculpted into a mullet just to fit in. A group of southerners danced to Franz Ferdinand in the corner. A tall boy resembling Jesus and his disciples were in attendance; a friendly, evangelical bunch, they seemed representative of the crowd. As we left we heard the immortal cry of “I’d rather he threw beer in my face than on my Timberlands. I, R. Bronwen Clarence, am the good shepherd. All who follow me to Opporto on Sunday will be blessed.
Music – indie
Crowd – Strokes wannabes
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