Cheadle, a 1970’s time capsule of inward looking culture-phobes

I wasn’t surprised to see that no one had entered anything about Cheadle on here up until now. The town is quickly becoming a time capsule for the 1970’s, and its inhabitants are among the most inward looking culture-phobes I have ever come across.

To a person from this redneck part of England their entire world view extends from Cheadle all the way up to Team – a town only 2 minutes drive from the town centre. Any mention of any of the other towns nearby such as Leek or Uttoxeter are usually met with grunts of “**** hole” or “why would I go there, I have everything I need here” – which was literally a response I got when mentioning I was going to Liverpool once.

Now that would now be a bad thing as such if Cheadle actually did have something. Anything. Anything at all?! There are literally no jobs in the town, the so called market is terminally empty. The high street encompasses a Wrights Pies, 2 take aways (one of which I think shut down due to drug dealing) and a newsagents. The rest of the shops there are never open long enough in order for one to remember what service they actually are supposed to provide. And yet, despite the economic depression, no one seems to care.

Growing up there it was not uncommon to hear downright racism in everyday conversation, anyone who ever looked slightly different was immediately outcast (a man with long hair for example), and the loser high school leavers of about ages 17/18 always wait outside of the local Cheadle High school for their 15 year old girlfriends to finish school. Later on you’d se the same guys frequenting local pubs such as the Master Potter or the Infamous Bar 19 passing their lives away drinking Carling lager and heckling anyone who may be perceived as being from out of town.

The town is terminally sick and is at serious risk of melting away into depravity, and if it were not for Alton Towers, the good Paisley high school and an impressive church built by Pugin, there would be absolutely nothing there for anyone. The nearest link to rail is miles away in Stoke on Trent so getting out out town is just as hard as getting (*cough fitting) In.

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