The worst places to live in North West England
Egremont, Cumbria. Words can’t express how desperately depressing this forgotten hovel is. “A convenient gateway to Wasdale and the lakes” they say – but NOTHING including convenience can justify a stop, or even a dive through here. The outside of pubs and shops tell you all you need to know. They look boarded up despite […]
If a later day Virgil were to lead Dante through Purgatory he would come upon Hoylake and description would fail them and they would not wish to linger long. ‘Hoylake is nice’, the words uttered by an estate agent is like a diagnosis of dementia, or a slow growing tumour that will ultimately **** you, […]
Read More… from Hoylake: a level of purgatory dante couldn’t describe
Earlestown used to be a town of industry, but these days it’s only industrious in being terrible. Let’s start with the town at first glance. One of the main streets is a pedestrianised shopping area, though it’s unlikely you’ll be doing any shopping there. Most of the businesses that set up shop in Earlestown are […]
Imagine a scenic little village perched on the very edge of the lake district where the hushed serenity is only broken by the delightful sounds of lambs gamboling in the verdant fields, you’ll have to use your imagination and possibly ear protection as the vast industrial edifice of the paper mill in the village [allegedly] […]
It has been said that the distant thud of a solitary Royton woman approaching could loosen one’s fillings from over five miles away. Raised on a diet of piping-hot Greggs steak bakes and deep-fried crunchy coated poultry, your typical Royton lass is a sight to be held. Morbidly obese, tattoo-covered, and with teeth like a […]
Knott End & Preesall: where the spirits die of boredom. Believe it or not there are places upon this earth that could only come from the warped imagination of some evil genius James Bond villain type. A dark figure sat in a lounge chair, cackling with glee whilst stroking a cat, conjuring up their latest […]
So you wish to give up on life and can’t afford the one way trip to Switzerland? You wish to go for the slow option, terminal decline along the Helter-Skelter to absolute oblivion? But how do you carry out the ‘slow’ option, a lingering, gradual death? Well there is one place that captures death in […]
Read More… from Blackpool: Through the Brown Eye of the 5th horseman and out to Dante’s cesspit
Two years ago I decided to report on the dreadful slum known as Reddish. At that point I had believed things could only get better, and oh how wrong I could’ve been. Lice-ridden pyjamas As you walk along the rundown Gorton Road, it is impossible not to notice the scruffy teen mothers, walking to the […]
Read More… from Reddish, Stockport: The Ghetto of Greater Manchester – Part 2
Ah, Middleton. The mixed aroma of weed, exhaust fumes and run-off fumes from the chemical factory, mixed with burning tyres, fills the air. Rosy-cheeked youths amuse themselves by stealing your motorbikes/mopeds and then burning them out in nearby parks, or using them to rob people. And look, over there – why it’s Sarah/Tiffany/Kylie and her […]
Read More… from Middleton: The Gammon-filled Place Where Dreams Come to Die
Wilmslow is by no means as dreadful as some of the towns on this site, but awful in its own way. Wilmslow has several different groups; descendants of “Old Wilmslow” meaning those whose family were here before 1940, successful boomers who moved here in the 60s and 70s usually from not far away and bought […]
Insanely, and for family reasons, I’ve lived in Birkenhead for twenty years now and am hoping to make my escape very soon. Originally from Didsbury in Manchester, the horror show that is life in Birkenhead soon revealed itself to me and I spent the whole of my child’s upbringing fending off bullies, *****, scallies and […]
Read More… from Birkenhead: the roid ridden a***hole of merseyside
Behold ye a place so gloomy and miserable that not even Heinrich Himmler would dare visit such a depressing edifice of human decay, for such a visit would have necessitated Heinrich’s convalescence in a concentration camp. There is an urban Corpse called Cleveleys, and this sh*tty shanty ‘town’ is very quickly becoming Lancashire’s equivalent to […]
