Roses need manure to prosper. The Yorkshire rose is fertilised by Bradford. Dropping down from last year’s bronze position. Here’s what our readers have to say:
Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be enough words available in the English language to emphasise what a complete and utter f**king sh*thole this place really is.
Bradford is literally hell on earth. The city centre resembles a squalid cess pit, full of monstrous partially demolished 60’s concrete office blocks, Pound shops, amusement arcades, prostitutes, heroin addicts, Eastern European car-jackers, Asian drug dealers, pre-pubescent mums and mad alcoholic tramps having arguments with themselves.