Give me my rose-tinted glasses back

I would say that I live in a nice part of the country. I love the north and where better to come from than Wigan, home of George Orwell, Sir Ian McKellen and the Verve. Where you grow up as a 'lad' or 'lass' but are usually addressed with 'y'alreet luv'. Wonderful. Yet since I've been home it's been a bit alien to me. The accent came back quickly enough but the way of life was a bit...rough for me. I've never really considered Wigan as a rough place. Liverpool- yes, Manchester- yes, even areas of Wigan such as Leigh, Hindley, Ince, Skelmersdale. But not Standish or the centre of Wigan itself. So you can imagine my despair this week that I've had things stolen from me on three occassions. Each completely separate situations and each one more frustrating and petty than the last. Maybe it's just coincidence and bad things come in threes (and all that jazz) or maybe I just grew up in the area in rose-tinted glasses and 10months away in a completely safe city has made me realise the pits in which I grew up in. But if that is the case what happens next? Do I just slip back into the roughian way of life and no longer notice or will I always be aware now and feel out of place in the place I should feel is home more than anywhere else in the world?? I'm hoping it was just a bad week that is ready to be forgotten...