I’m astonished that this nightmare of a town has only been mentioned a couple of times. I’m guessing this is because none of the residents know what the internet is yet and the majority of those who have escaped are still too traumatised to speak about their visit. If you ever wondered if England had an area inhabited by our equivalent of American trailer trash red-necks then you’ve obviously not been to Wisbech. Wisbech’s red-necks didn’t get their colour by working hard though, oh no, their sunburned colour comes from sitting around the town’s market square comparing trainers and their latest benefit stream generator (baby to the rest of us) with their mates.
The manufacturers of nylon can thank Wisbech and it’s benefit dependant pondlife residents for their wealth. No shops worth having can survive in the place because Wisbechistanis will not patronise any business that sells anything for more than £1. There are two businesses in this depressing and deprived dump that are doing well though…. they being the pound shop that now occupies the old Woolworths premises and, not surprisingly, the drive through McDonalds (the demographic is so low that Wisbech is one of the few places in the country where you can’t order a Dominos Pizza). It’s out of town location, just up the road from the cat food factory – work that out, doesn’t make it difficult to find… all you have to do to find it from any direction is follow the trail of discarded McDonalds litter that is strewn on all local roads having been launched from the 20yr old Saxos and BMWs that the retards view as de rigeur transport.
You’re nobody in Wisbech until you drive a BMW, regardless of how old or knackered it is. That’s not quite true, Fenland’s relatively wealthy sorts (they have a job) have a preference for pick up trucks, the bigger the better. They are so proud of their status mobiles that they believe the roads are too dangerous to park their ‘trucks’ in. Instead, they park them on the pavements and make pedestrians walk in the dangerous roads with all the Saxos and 20yr old BMWs. You will notice that the pick up truck types ride round with looks of superior smugness on their faces. What they don’t realise is that the rest of us use their choice of vehicle as an indicator of the IQ of those within. There are a lot of pick ups round Wisbech.
Local people are the product of their local schools. With employment opportunities limited to either working in Macdonalds, the pound shop or the local cat food factory, the high school stopped trying to teach anything useful and it became nothing more than a childminded service so the parents could get on with the important things in their lives: watching daytime TV or breeding even more benefits stream generators. The place was so bad that OFSTED completely gave up on it and decided the only way to halt the damage it was doing to the population was to demolish it which they did.
I was unfortunate enough to live in one of the villages associated with this town for 5yrs. It didn’t take us 5yrs to realise we’d made a mistake, of course. We realised that within the first month or so of living among them but it took us 4.5yrs to sell up and get out. The retards that bought our house – they only managed to raise the deposit because of an industrial accident insurance payout, we have since discovered, wasted no time in parking a 4X4 on the pavement outside, forcing people to walk in the roadway and to install a barking-24hrs-a-day Rotweiller (look at how hard I am with this dog) in the garden. They will fit right in with the other barking dog obsessed Wisbechistannis, one of whom had a gorgeous Staffy puppy. I made to stroke this little dog one day as it’s nylon clad football hooligan style dressed ****** took it for a **** on someone else’s lawn. “Don’t do that”, he mumbled, “I want it to be a hard dog that everyone is scared of”… the poor animal was no more than 4months old at the time.
On the subject of migration…. in the late 90s there was a steady flow of immigrants from Essex into the area around Wisbech. They were attracted by cheap property prices and the lack of foreigners. It’s so bad now that everyone who can is getting out and leaving the place to the Fennies, even the Essexers are leaving.
I came pretty close to sliding into depression as a result of living near Wisbech. I knew I hated the place but only realised the harmful effect it was having on me when we moved. I immediately felt like the world had been lifted from my shoulders and my mood has improved daily since. We visited ex neighbours (who are still trapped) a couple of weeks ago and felt the tendrils of Fen depression wrapping themselves around me once again. Only when you’ve escaped the place do you realise just how bad it is.
Wisbech, knows as Wizzybekhistan by the locals
Downham Market: from ex-cons in the flats by the train tracks to the Retreat Estate
Fleet: a miserable cabbage plantation of mud and depression in Lincs
Holbeach, the land of the living dead
Peterborough, I am forced into living the ‘ch4v’ life
Peterborough: oh for a nuclear bomb (or a really big bulldozer)
Leighton Buzzard: without the boys in blue, ***** would be running the streets
Whittlesey: Carnival of the Damned
Histon, Cambridge: you will never meet a duller bunch of **** candles