Middlesbrough, truly the town that time forgot.
Sometimes I half expect Doug McClure to come running round a corner being hotly pursued by neanderthals only in this nightmare they are dressed in tracksuits and cheap jewellery.
Once you reach Middlesbrough you face the ordeal of having to enter it. Some say never go on first impressions but believe me on this occasion, you can be forgiven.
A stinking, vile, chav-infested, 60’s throwback town that has outlived any sort of usefulness only begins to describe this heap.
Most towns have good and bad points but this place has so little going for it, its makes Baghdad look cosmopolitan.
Once in the centre of Middlesbrough you’ll be struck on the sheer numbers of chavs whom just walk around aimlessly, obviously acquiring jobs seems to be out of the question.
Doped up chavs draped around focal points such as Albert Park, is as normal a background image to the town as it is to having trees and bushes.
Once night arrives the town is filled with the sound of mindless shrieking. It seems the populace has to make a point to whoever can hear that they are ‘on the lash’ through general loud noise.
Other favourite pastimes include random destruction hence why the local councils long gave up the idea of building anything new. Recently they’ve taken a new dislike to lampposts again.
The entire place has now been converted to be a purpose built student town, where they are shipped in and processed to be the vilest chav they can be.
It matters little what direction you go in to leave the centre of Middlesbrough as all you can see is a horizon of squalor. The suburbs, of which are no better, are a hub of council estates some such as Grangetown, Southbank and Redcar look strikingly similar to a Hollywood apocalyptic film set.
Eventually the horizon does begin to look better and you can finally breath a sigh of relief.
The biggest shame of all, I come from there.