By far the worst for me was Bristol, managed 6 months before realising what an horrendous mistake I had made.
As well as being not really my cup of tea, it just refused to stop raining.
6 months in Stratford (E15 not Shakespeare) was the most rubbish place I've lived. Nothing would ever drag me back there again, Olympics or no Olympics.
Oh this is easy - Canada Water/Rotherhithe. How I hated it. I lasted 4 months before running back to Highbury as fast as my little legs could take me. The local off-licence had security grills and a doorbell, the block had all its garden furniture stolen despite a high spiky fence surrounding it, everyone owned a pitt bull and all the pubs were BNP strongholds. I feel queasy just thinking about it.
@colette the vicky wines across from my old flat in herne hill was like that. no chance of stealing special brew from there... it did though have a wonderful bin of discount booze which was past its sell by date. at 50p a can, can't complain really. (I've moved on since that now and instead spend lots of money at Jack's on fancy beer - what a shop).
I lived in a crumbling flat in the slums of Madrid for two years. In the winter it was so cold that you could see your breath. The bathroom was really manky, with red slime oozing from between the tiles. There was a bearded lady downstairs who shared her flat with pigeons.
Aside from King's Lynn, South Tottenham (the other 'Nam). When I moved in to my flat, there were slugs in the kitchen cupboards, and I every time I came home I was worried in case someone had kicked the door in.
Haven't we all gone up in the world!
I also lived in Croydon. Six months in an unfurnished house rented by my company. The furnishing budget ran to a bed in each bedroom. No furniture in the lounge or the kitchen. It was hell.
They used to bus people into Wakey from all over the country to experience the night life (this is true). People used to come from down south and everything. Night life was crappy but there was a lot of it.
Rooftop gardens - 10p a pint night. I still have fond memories of putting down 5 x 2p pieces and getting a beer. It seemed reasonably drinkable too. Don't have fond memories of most of the rest of the evening though!
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The local off-licence had security grills and a doorbell, the block had all its garden furniture stolen despite a high spiky fence surrounding it, everyone owned a pitt bull and all the pubs were BNP strongholds.
I feel queasy just thinking about it.
I've been. And to Rooftop Gardens and Rumours in Wakefield. Awful places.