Bury St Edmunds

[This is an old favourite, back from the vault, so good it had to live again… Especially since so many other people have been writing in about the place too. This is the town where they banned hanging baskets, after all….]



The pavements are covered in wonky paving slabs. They’re like that on purpose, I think, in order to look ‘olde worlde’, as part of the on-going attempt to make Bury appear like its mighty cousin, Cambridge. Needless to say it’s failing miserably.

The kids have nothing to do. The adults fill their time with petty squabbles. The council and the residents spent 10 years on whether or not to build a cinema. Another 15 years were wasted working out whether or not to build more awful shops on a vast expanse of car park right in the middle of town named ‘the cattle market’.



To top it all, a huge sugar beet factory looms above the skyline and every so often (normally on a lovely sunny day) emits a cloying, sickly stench over the town like a shimmering shroud of doom.


Andrew Martin

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