Manchester: A Home from Home

Manchester: A Home from Home by Guest writer Jess Lewis-Ward

For the first nineteen years of my life, I called Newcastle home. More than three years on, and I've added Manchester to that list. As a result, I’ve come to see these places like people – Manchester is quietly confident, charmingly unpolished, with a rich knowledge of music, a place of gentrified suburbs and small plates. By contrast, Newcastle is bright-eyed and fresh-faced, the life and soul of the party, radiating warmth and being endlessly chatty. So I feel a little jealous of young adults who get to move to Newcastle and discover and fall in love with it for the first time, just like my parents did. I also feel extremely lucky to still call it home; there's a certain local patriotism you can only understand if you’re a Geordie. But after being so inspired by my mum and dad’s stories, I couldn’t help but think there was somewhere else out there that I could belong.

Image: A photobooth picture of my Mam and Dad, the yearthey met in Newcastle

I grew up with parents who fostered my creativity, and I remember being fascinated with their individual journeys. They were both once ‘young like me’, now grown, grounded in their art and both able to make a living from it. They’d both tell me stories of leaving home, exploring a new place and finding an immense love for the city that made them want to stay for good. This ignited something in me – I wanted to leave Newcastle and find that feeling in a new place as well. 

I started my career in music when I was fifteen. This was in a school music room with three boys in Birtley who only wanted to play the Arctic Monkeys all day long. Luckily enough, AM were my favourite band at the time, so it was an easy ‘yes’ for me. My love for music was probably the main reason we all decided to move to Manchester. At nineteen, I knew that, rich in history and the home of many iconic artists, it was the place I wanted to start a new chapter. I’d seen those classic photos of The Smiths by the Salford Lads’ Club, watched those iconic performances by Ian Curtis and Joy Division in Granada Studios, and felt like Manchester must still be the centre of the world for cool music. Maybe my band and I could make a success of things if we all moved there, too?

Image: The exterior of Salford Lads Club

Moving away from home was exciting at first, like the start of a new relationship. The excitement is held in the unknown; there’s a suspension of negative judgment, and you look at the city with rose-tinted glasses. Although the three years I spent there weren’t always easy, the hardships I experienced made me feel like I could call Manchester home. I produced some of my best songs and writing there, often in the gaps between working at the Red Light Bar. I’d get home in the wee hours to a block of flats in Salford, a stone’s throw from Media City and feel inspired by the people I’d met and the stories I’d been told. I met lifelong friends who I know will be in my life forever. It changed me fundamentally from a girl to a woman. 

Image: Hard at work crafting a cocktail at Red Light Manchester

There are elements of both cities that are now so iconic to me. The O2 City Hall has to be my favourite venue in Newcastle and the best gig I’ve ever played, point blank. We had a support slot there a couple of years ago, and I still can’t believe I walked out onto that famous stage. On the other hand, the Northern Quarter in Manchester is home to some of my fondest memories. I played my first gig in Manchester at ‘Night and Day’ Cafe and discovered many amazing local artists in the very same spot. Now, whenever I see anything with a bumblebee on it, it grounds me in Manchester. I used to live next to Victoria Baths too, and to see it incorporated into my mum’s designs just warms my heart. 

I moved back home at the end of 2025 to pursue a career as a solo singer-songwriter. I knew that it was time to leave Manchester, if only for the time being, and I know that it’s somewhere I’ll always go back to. Moving back to Newcastle has proved to me that it isn’t really about the place itself; it’s about where we are as people, and the places we call home leave an indelible mark on us that we carry wherever we go. Where we call home, or Hyem as they say in the North East, is a personal journey of discovery, and my journey has only just begun. 

Jess x