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This is a question Rubbish Towns

I once went to Basildon. It was closed, I got chased by a bunch of knuckle-dragged yobs until I was lost in a maze of concrete alleyways and got food poisoning off pie. Tell us about the awful places you've visited or have your home.

Thanks to SpankyHanky for the suggestion

(, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 11:07)
Pages: Latest, 19, 18, 17, 16, 15, ... 4, 3, 2, 1

This question is now closed.

I live in the "lovely" town of Weston-super-Mare
A seaside resort for the denzens of the council estates of birmingham.

It also had at last count, 14% of the drink/drug rehab beds in the entire country... more than manchester, liverpool and london put together!

A large proportion of these lovely individuals, mostly ones that fail to be rehabilitated, stay here after their program.. enticed by the plentiful supply of drugs supplied by the dealers that congregate here following the junkies.

If you get the opportunity to visit, I can only recommend you turn it down.
(, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 11:58, 9 replies)
Back in the day
When I was a county standard swimmer, I had to travel all over the South of England competing. The worst place I ever went to was Edmonton in North London. Used needles in the bushes, an inch of filth on the bottom of the pool and a street gang who tried to smash up our coach with the driver still inside.

We had to go back next year too. Not good.

I currently live in Wester Hailes (highest rate of drug and knife crime in Edinburgh) and it's lovely and peaceful as I live bang opposite a police station.

Also, Luton is a shithole.
(, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 11:57, 5 replies)
Drigg, Cumbria

Click for bigger (25 kb)

I went here one Sunday. It was closed. I did a search on Google Maps. Check it out, it tells you all you need to know.
(, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 11:55, Reply)
fucking place.

actually it's not so much the town or the people as the fact that they divert you off through shirley when they close the m42 or is it the m6 for some completely non-essential work that necessitates 112 miles of cones without a road worker in sight and thus divert you through shirley at 2am in a stream of standstill traffic that makes you wonder where the fuck they have all come from how can so many people need to travel through shirley at 2am on a friday night/saturday morning until you realise that they are in fact people just like you who actually started their journey at 9am the previous day but have been stuck in shirley ever since in that traffic jam that crawling tedious slow painful knackering petrol burning traffic jam that makes you want to stab yourself to death with the cones just so that you have something to DO.

so, yeah. shirley.
(, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 11:55, 7 replies)
London Borough of Ealing
Bit shit. Not much to do. Jazz festival every year. So it's still shit
(, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 11:49, 10 replies)
Dorchester, Dorset
The town where Woolworths would not die.

Also, the town frequently voted the owner of Britain's worst Christmas lights, thanks to a council too scared to spend any money on anything.

Here they are:

Beat THAT, Oxford Street.
(, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 11:48, 18 replies)
Now geographically it isn't that bad; it's just a shame that it's full of backwater scum from the 1800's.

I went out one night in Swansea and got immensely drunk, upto the point where I woke up in Ammonford the next day at 1pm. Still don't know how I got there to this day, it's about 30 or so miles out from me house.

Think of Back to the Future 3 when Marty wakes up in a cowboy shack and it wasn't far off from that.

Still...a fuck's a fuck I suppose :p
(, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 11:46, 1 reply)
Hatfield (Pearost)
Hatfield. The town that God made when he was having a fucking bad day.

Approaching Hatfield, you have an unending vista of 60’s shite council housing with the occasional tower block thrown in for good measure. Simply put, Hatfield has no soul. The town centre is built especially to cater for scummers, with numerous pound shops, a New Look and various shitty cafes, all crowned with the lovely ASDA, where Chavettes push around their scroaty, screaming pasty babies (all called Jayden or Kayleigh) on weekdays.

Let us not forget The Galleria - known to all and sundry as The Gonhorrea. It is a specialist outlet selling all manner of mouthbreather-branded produce from various bespoke outlets such as TK Maxx. The Chavs never venture onto the upper floor, as there are only bookshops and so on up there except to spit on and throw empty cans of Diamond White on those below. The Gonhorrea is specially designed with poorly lit areas and walkways surrounding it, giving unrivalled opportunities to be mugged and dry-buttfucked.

Apart from the endless estates and the isolated cultural area of Old Hatfield, that is about it…apart from the University of Hertfordshire. Students are forced to use the shitty student bars, not out of choice, but more due to the fact that if they venture off-campus they are liable to get mugged and killed. To death. All the locals hate them, for daring to get an education. They are seen as “toffs” and therefore, naturally all gay.

There is a good part to Hatfield though. When they built the motorway, they put it through a tunnel under the town, so you can pass through quickly without having to experience this eye gougingly horrifc pile of donkey smegma.
(, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 11:39, 4 replies)
Let me tell you about my hometown...
I live in a city that has won numerous awards, usually in the categories of highest crime rate, unemployment and residents with mental issues.

I hear a number of news reports about places having problems with gangs/knife crime every few months and that’s trivial compared to the level of illegal activity here. I have lost count of the number of times when I’ve popped down the local shop for some smokes and nearly been run over by a number of badly dressed gang members in a gawdy decorated car (In appropriate gang colours) escaping the police (With both sides using guns).

Then theres the more serious stuff. From what I can recall this place has suffered an earthquake(back in 98), been gassed countless times, blown up, declared a no man’s land by the government and had a number of escapes from the local nut house.

I really should move away but the house prices in Gotham are really low....gotta go looks like one of the nutcases has sent his exploding robotic octopus on the rampage....again.
(, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 11:37, 2 replies)
It's a tiny Welsh town in the Valleys where my Dad was born and raised. I'm not saying that the people are a bit rough, but after one night out in the pub when visiting my Gran, we stopped to get some chips on the way back to her house....

In the chippie, we both couldn't help noticing that the lady serving us had tattoos on her knuckles. We'd both had a few pints and were a bit chatty so my Dad piped up.

'What does that say on your knuckles, then?'
'Oh, that... it says 'STELL' love.'
'Yeah, well my name's Stella, see, but I decided to get the tattoo then I realised I've only got five knuckles, like....'

EDIT: Other stuff I've remembered about Ammanford:

Being at a party at a rugby club and some guy who'd been hitting the beer all afternoon disappearing. A while later someone turns up who'd gone to have a look for him, and says 'Oh, he'll be alright... he's down at the river, just having a nap.'

Thought nothing of it until walking home and seeing the guy, asleep actually IN the Amman river (it's quite shallow).

Also, my dad told me about being Best Man for a mate of his from Ammanford when he was younger. He made his speech and proposed a toast to the Bride and Groom at the end. Some old guy came up to him at the bar afterward and said 'That was a bit fancy, wasn't it?' My Dad said 'What do you mean?'. 'Well,' said the Old Boy, 'a speech and a bloody toast - people will think you're showing off.'

On the plus side, pints of bitter used to be 89p in the Miners Club when I was about 15, and they didn't give a shit how old I was because my Grandad was a miner...
(, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 11:36, 4 replies)
I live in Slough.
Not much else needs to be said. The massive tesco is shit.
(, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 11:35, 5 replies)
Princes Risborough
Princes Risborough is a small town and civil parish within the Wycombe district in Buckinghamshire England and is situated at the foot of the Chiltern Hills. A hotspot for culture, with numerous restaurants and interesting historical sites, the town has become a must-see for all visitors to England.
Originally used as a stop gap for traders travelling to and from Cambridge and Winchester, the town has seen a vast increase in the number of people visiting in recent years – some of whom choose not to leave. This is why the town is so popular.

The Market Square – Seen by most residents as the epicentre of the town, the Market Square not only provides valuable shelter from the rain, but also confuses first time visitors – part of an ‘in-joke’ amongst residents. There is a clock face on each side of the Market Squares ‘spire’, but amusingly, the time is never correct! It is thought that the idea was thought of nearly 15 years ago by a member of the local council, known to be a bit of a prankster, and the joke has carried on to the present day. What makes the joke even more hilarious is the fact that the Market Square doubles as a bus stop, with the timetable showing the ‘correct’ times. Of an evening, irate adults can be seen chasing after buses down towards the Tesco roundabout, shaking their fists angrily in the air as they do so, having fallen foul to the ‘Wrong Time Clock Joke’ (as it’s known locally). A good place to watch this event is from the Whiteleaf Cross Public House situated within crawling distance of the Square.
At Christmas time, the Market Square is adorned with numerous light bulbs, as well as a huge flashing Santa, visible from Coombe Hill, 5 miles away, which illuminate the historical building quite beautifully. Thousands of residents make the pilgrimage to the town center once a year on the coldest, wettest day in December available, to watch the lights being turned on, sometimes by a celebrity (Leslie Grantham being the most famous to date). The sheer effort that goes into decorating the town each year is scarcely matched by Risborough’s neighbouring towns and villages, a fact that leaves locals jubilant and smug.

An illuminated Market Square stands decadently as two comets pass agonisingly close over the top of the town.

The Annual Festival – Established in 1996, the Princes Risborough Festival’s main aim is to promote and enhance the profile of Princes Risborough, its clubs, businesses, associations and inhabitants, and to bring a week of entertainment and general enjoyment to all who wish to participate. The festival culminates to the famous street fayre, more about that to follow. Throughout the week prior to the street fayre, a wide range of events are held from music (to suit all tastes, if tastes are ‘middle of the road’) and theatrical entertainment, to local organisations recruitment evenings, factory tours and heritage and natural history walks; all of them being extremely well attended. The Street Fayre is held on the final Saturday afternoon and attracts thousands of people, and it’s not hard to see why.
Musical entertainment provided by up and coming hip bands, as well as more established older bands, fills the Risborough air. If you’re one of the lucky ones to get to the town early enough, you may be able to grab a white plastic chair to sit and watch on. Families mingle around the Market Square to watch the performers, interspersed with pockets of sun burnt men, drinking warm beer out of plastic pint cups, but smiling regardless. Numerous stalls and fairground rides ensure a fun-filled afternoon for all the family, not just the local men who (and don’t tell their partners this!), use the Festival as an excuse to get drunk and partake in mundane conversations about how rubbish the festival is.
It says something about the community spirit in Princes Risborough that the High Street gets closed for at least a day when the street fayre is on, leading to limited parking spaces, yet there has not been one complaint to date. The organisers of the event have helped substantially in solving the parking dilemma when festival day comes around by using the local park as a make-shift car park or advising festival goers to "stick it ‘round the back of the George & Dragon – it should be fine". The festival is as firmly imprinted on people’s minds weeks after the event, as the dents on the local park caused by the hundreds of cars driving over the soft grass.

Morris Dancers perform a rain dance at the street fayre

A fire engine rushes to a stall to extinguish burnt sausages and burgers

Restaurants - If you feel peckish when in Princes Risborough, you needn’t worry as there are a vast amount of restaurants which offer a fantastic range of fine cuisine at affordable prices. From the delicately spiced food of the newly opened Radhuni Indian restaurant, to the subtle aromatic fragrance of the food at House Of Spice Indian restaurant or the mouth-watering Indian food at Jaflong, there is sure to be something that you and the family will enjoy. Alternatively, eat as you much as you like and more, at Top Wok, where the Chinese food tastes like all good English Chinese food should. Rivalling Top Wok for the title of ‘Risborough’s Best Chinese Restaurant’ is Golden House. The food taste very similar to that of Top Wok, but can be eaten in the comfort of your own home. It has often been a topic of great debate amongst residents as to which Chinese provides the best food, but it has proved too difficult to split them. If Chinese grub doesn’t tickle your fancy and you prefer Indian food, then the Poppy Seed provides delicious meals with a smile.
There is also an Italian restaurant which offers fresh pasta dishes, pizzas with various toppings and all other stereotypical Italian food stuffs. Rivalling this for authentic food is the Turkish restaurant, ideally situated opposite the Market Square, between two Indian restaurants

The Poppyseed provides delicious food, but bring money as it isn’t really free

On top of all this entertainment, Risborough boasts a huge elderly community that will do their utmost to ruin your day - so why not visit? It's a great town.
(, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 11:33, 14 replies)
Shitty town.
Stopped off in a tiny craphole in order to pick up some lunch on the way home from a holiday.

Now, I'll admit to looking a bit eccentric, but it's hardly noticed when I amble around town or turn up to work.... wearing a Tophat most of the time isn't that remarkable.

Everyone stopped and looked at me wherever I roamed.
I was waiting in line at the supermarket when the grossly fat people behind me struck up a conversation. They were laughing about how it was "just like waiting in the dole queue ha ha ha ha ha".

Some children threw stones at me. Their parents laughed, while stuffing their faces with fried chicken and drinking cans of crappy beer at 11am.

I had the longest shower ever when I finally got home. Trying to wash the stench of smalltown New Zealand off of my skin.
(, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 11:30, 3 replies)
I live in the London Borough of Croydon
It's crap. Not a week goes by with out numerous stabbings and shootings. In fact there was a drive by shooting about 20 yards away from my door not too long ago.

Before that I lived in Beckenham, not too bad, just a bit slow for my liking.

And before that I lived in Selhurst, it was a friggin' nightmare. Never any parking spaces on Wednesday or Saturdays because of the football ground right around the corner. Got broke into twice, the second time just two days after I'd replaced all of the stuff that had been nicked the first time. Bastards!

Then there was Lambeth, it was so bad I wouldn't even go out at night, yes it was that scary.

And before I move to London I lived in Dundee, the drug and HIV capital of the UK. My am I glad I got out of there when I did!
(, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 11:30, 8 replies)
I'm completely enamoured
of Edinburgh, my current place of idling. In fact, over the last five years, I've lived in five of the world's most touristy cities - Oxford, Paris, Cambridge, London and now here. And they all had their downsides along with the gorgeous architecture, community buzz and so on.

But nowhere I've ever been is as crap as the place I spent nineteen years growing up - near, rather than in, which is a blessing - Preston. Most people have a degree of sentimental affection for their hometown, even if it is innately a bit shit. Not me. The locals may be quite friendly but it really is a dive of epic proportions. This is a Grade 2 listed building, for shit's sake:


(, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 11:26, 4 replies)
Town slogans I have found unrealistic
'Come to Life, Come to Telford!'

'People like us, like Crawley'

I also once remember seeing the Mayor of Stoke on Trent on Midlands News describing it as "A 21st Century, 24 Hour Party City"
(, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 11:24, 3 replies)
Pine Creek....
is about 110 km south of Darwin - Northern Territory.

We got stuck there for three days.
Every day it is over 35 degrees. There is no Air conditioning. No pools. Mosquitos in the toilet bowls, showers and washing machines. It is filled with people living dole-cheque to dole-cheque, who theive from you the second your attention wavers.

And it's the absolute pits when your car breaks down, and the nearest place that has your part is 800 km away, because Darwin doesn't have any. Especially when the store keeper leers at your 9 year old self.

Pine Creek - for fucks sake, if you go to Australia - NEVER, go there if you can avoid it. Drive straight through.
(, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 11:22, 1 reply)
And on a secondary note
I wonder how many lurkers turn into stalkers via the answers to this QOTW?
(, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 11:20, 2 replies)
I was one of those poor unfortunate fools who got a place at Manchester Met Uni a few years ago and ended up at the Crewe/Alsager campus. Jesus christ, what a depressive hellhole?!

Some lass tried slitting her wrists in the first 6 months, and failed. Twice. The place is that bad she failed at failing. It's where everyone who lives and works in Manchester and Liverpool goes to retire and die.

Terrible place!
(, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 11:18, 4 replies)
Aren't Spanky and Pooflake
from Coventry?

That place has gotta be weird as fuck.
(, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 11:17, 16 replies)

oi vey
(, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 11:16, 1 reply)
Fucking awful new town that makes Coventry look attractive, dreadful dreadful inhabitants that are london thug wannabees and worst of all.

Worst of all

Its where Kaol and I were born! I mean that is just horror upon horror, the spawning place of us, hehehe!
(, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 11:14, 2 replies)
I live in Gravesend.
Therefore I win this QOTW.
(, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 11:14, 6 replies)
Milton Keynes
paperclip salesmen live there.
(, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 11:13, 13 replies)
it was big, smelly, expensive and full of cunts. Just like the gold-plated waste bin in my garage.
(, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 11:11, Reply)
Come to Telford!
Used to work in Telford. Nuff Said!
(, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 11:10, 3 replies)
I was just flicking through the newspaper one day only to find a eurostar special offer - travel to Paris for the day for the princely sum of £25. "Bargin!" I thought. A couple of phone calls, and a few texts later and myself and a few mates were booked up for a Saturday in Paris.

It was a very early start to the day. Equipped with a map, some cash, a brand new 2 megapixel camera (cor, cutting edge tech!) we started on our journey under the channel.

The plan was simple, get to Paris, hop on the metro visit the Eiffel Tower, as you do, see Notredame, Grab a bit at a trendy french cafe, pop into the Louvre, finish on a spot of shopping if there was time, and head home; it was going to be fantastic! Paris - city of culture, fine food, etc etc.

We get as far as the metro, which was strangely quiet - a few passengers, no staff by the platform, and the destination board wasn't working. We hopped on the train, believeing it to be the right one.

How wrong we were.

It wasn't until an inspector pointed out we were heading out to the airport. The train didn't stop until it got there, wasting a HUGE amount of our time. When we got off, we told the inspector we wanted just to go straight back into town. He lead us off to his booth in the main station building so he could grab his breakfast whilst he looked down on us and made sarcastic comments.

This snooty nosed arrogant son-of-a-bitch, whilst eating a baggette (he was really going for the the WHOLE negative stereotype, here) charged us something close to £60 each in fines and refused to help us out.

Being poor students, that was pretty much most of the money we had for the trip.

After that, we all bought tickets and when back. We got to see Notredame, missed the 'tower, had about 20 minutes to rush around the Louvre, and had to make do with a McDonalds for sustenance.

On a few occasions we tried to ask for directions from various Parisians... If we spoke English, they gave us dirty looks and ignored us. If we spoke in french, they did the same.

One of my mates nearly got run over crossing at lights, and I was nearly pick-pocketed.

Honestly, it turned out to be a bit like "The Out-of-Towners". If we had gotten a flight into Paris, I would have half expected it to be hijacked.

I've been to other places in france, all have been scenic and beautiful and I have found the people to be kind, helpful, polite and very welcoming.

Paris was dirty, a disappointment, and the Parisians arseholes.
(, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 11:09, 8 replies)
A man working in a shop in Leeds couldn't tell me what road we were on...is this standard for Leeds?
Strangely the same thing happened in Walthamstow...I was buying an A-Z having gotten hopelessly lost and the bloke in the petrol station couldn't tell me what road it was on!
(, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 11:09, 3 replies)
no way
Bit early this week
(, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 11:09, 1 reply)

This question is now closed.

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