Sunny Gainsborough… the ****’s dreamland… A vista of cheap seventies housing and disused riverside factory buildings, once proud, now housing charity shops.
Well… where to start? Gainsboough is a town that barely figures on a map of the area, let alone England, set in the heartland of Lincolnshire’s bustling district of West Lindsey. Although Burberry hasn’t quite caught on yet (Lincolnshire is not noted for its avant-garde fashion sense) many a young person can be seen garbed head to toe in ageing adidas three-stripe. The main hangout for **** and secondary school kid alike is Richmond Park, home to a number of socially precocious 12-year olds who enjoy a smoke and a swig of Stella of an afternoon, after all, who needs secondary education to get by in prison *ahem* life?
Famous inhabitants (or ‘denizens’ as they are sometimes known) include not, as the name of the town may suggest, painter Thomas Gainsborough, but ‘nipper’ smith, one of a family of smiths who gained his monicker through unusual use of a Stanley knife, which he is reputed to carry around with him at all times… including whilst out merrymaking in the local nightclub, that is THE local night club not because it is THE place to be, but the ONLY place to be… a club so rough that you have to have a criminal record just to work there, blue-collar criminals need not apply. Bizarrely, there are three schools in the area, one that doesn’t inform its pupils that ‘A’-levels are an option, one that specialises in woodwork, and a grammar school that is considered posh because its pupils are expected not to smell of urine. Whilst there is an abundance of wholesome, family-orientated entertainment to engage and enthuse the youth of the town, one small cinema (capacity 50 persons), a ‘mall’ (with four open shops in it), and a tennis club (quite pleasant, they provide free balls), the younger element of the town’s population prefer to indulge in the more fashionable **** hobbies of the day, boosting cars, shooting up heroin, and throwing fruit, wood and bricks at tennis-players.
So ***** and chavettes, if you have the opportunity to skip bail for the day and nip up to sunny west lindsey, be sure to visit Gainsborough, a wonderful town that caters to the needs of ***** everywhere, just remember to pack your scaff bar and you’ll be treated like a brother by the locals. After the ‘welcome’ fight, of course.
When looking for a place to bring up your next clutch of bouncing baby ****/ettes, look no further than Park Springs, a delightful little estate with charming wood-effect windows (an effect achieved by replacing glass with chipboard) on most of the beautiful town-houses in the area. Do you need a bag of blow or a quick fix to get you through the bank holiday? Never fear! there is at least one purveyor of exotic and illegal spices on every street, willing to sell at low, low prices to the newcomer (discounts available to under-14s). Local off-licences are packed full of Super-strength and Elephant brew, as well as the mighty Vladivostock ‘spirit drink’, which can also be used as emergency fuel in your suped-up Vauxhaul Corsa.
While you’re in the area, you may like to check out the lovely surrounding villages, where there are always cars to steal, and locals to rob (a popular method is to get a battered old tranny van, fill it with fish from nearby Skegness, and go door to door pretending to sell it. Daft villagers will soon tell you their holiday plans for the coming year and offer you a spare key so that you can come in and look after their dogs). Little London Caravan park, Torksey is a lovely place with colourful long-term residents like Big Frank, so called because his parents called him Frank, and he’s, well, big. The barmaid is a very friendly girl from nearby Scunthorpe, who offers her hospitality to any, if not every weary traveller (you don’t actually have to prove it by showing her your dog and its string). Scumthorpe (sorry ScuNthorpe) is a stone’s throw away, offering unemployment to those that seek it and cheap second-hand booze to those who already have it.