Whitby

After a recent holiday, I must tell all you ****-hating normal people about the most wonderful place… Whitby.

This has got to be the LEAST ****-******** place in the whole of the country. When I arrived at this coastal town, the place seems strange because of it’s sheer LACK of *****. I searched and searched, but there were nowhere to be found.

Not a burberry cap in sight. Not even a tracksuit wearing Kappa-******* pushing a pushchair. Nothing.

How grim is your Postcode?

I even looked for the **** parents – but no… Not one Man United/Vodafone shirt, gold chain, mobile phone on a belt clip, or shaved head with earrings in both ears in sight. This is especially surprising, as Whitby is :

1) In Yorkshire – the county with more **** cities than you can shake a stick at.
2) Not too far from Whitley Bay and Newcastle.

I started to wonder WHY this place is ****-free… and a quick look at some of the shops gave the subtle answer. Goths.

Whitby is Goth City, holding the famous ‘Whitby Goth Festival’ twice a year. There are many shops catering for goth types, with black T-shirts, dracula related memoribilia etc. And if it’s one thing that puts the ***** up a lone ****, (apart from threatening to stop their giro), is a load of long haired Sisters of Mercy fans, dressed in long black coats drinking pints of snakebite.

One goth is no threat to a bunch of *****, but a town with a reputation for actively welcoming goths…. that’s another matter. Going there must be like going to their worst ever ‘job restart interview’.

There are probably one or two more things that put the ***** off coming to Whitby. Parking is expensive – whether you drive a Vauxhall Nova with neon undercar lighting or not. Plus, there is a lot of water about – they may get wet, which is tantamount to having a wash.