If there was ever a town in Herts that is quickly losing the battle against the spreading bacteria of “chav” it is Houghton Regis.
I have stayed a few times overnight there (not by choice) and throroughly enjoyed being woken up every 15 minutes by the roar of Vauxhall astra engines screaming past the houses, or hearing the cackle of teenage mothes as they skip and dance from the benefits office with glee or the squadrons of Kevs guarding every street corner defending the streets from perils of dignity and good taste their colourful blanket montage of Burberry and Lambretta tops.
I especially enjoyed receiving cutting edge fashion tips on how to co-rodinate tracky bottoms with white tubing socks, stussy caps with acne and Lambretta polo tops with Sovereign rings.
What I most enjoyed I have to say was casual sophisticated banter with the little urchins, especially on culture and the arts. I loved hearing their finely honed cerebal input into such books as The Grapes of Wrath “ugh??”, Catcher in the Rye “wha fu**s ‘at?” or Homers Oddysey “wha bloke from simpsons??”
Come visit sunny Houghton Regis, you wont forget it 🙁