Ouch!!! This place really is bad. Hull may have been voted England’s crappiest town – and after a couple of visits I can see why – but Ipswich has worse violent crime stats than Hull by a whole person. It doesn’t look as rough as Hull, most of the estates are comprised of terraced and semi-detached council houses in reasonable condition with only two tower blocks and a few areas of higher rise more run-down ghetto style council housing: but rest assured it is nothing less than an absolute craptank.
I’d wager that a good 80% of Ipswich’s residential is comprised of council estate – of which there are 5 main areas – all of them overly large. Whitehouse which is the Whitton Estate at the ASDA end of town, Stoke Park which is (I think) East Ipswich up from the train station, Chantry Estate off the London Rd (other side of station), The Nacton Estate: proud home to Holywells High School which received a special plan of action from the gov’t after a pupil got stabbed in the neck on the playground; and the Eastbourne/ Gainsborough end of Ipswich which – if I am to believe the graffiti opposite Zest – plays host to a group of pseudo-intellectuals calling themselves “Da Gainsborough Massiv”.
There seems to be a disproportianate amount of black kids, decked out in the London style of drainpipe jeans and constantly pulled-up hoodies, who all talk in a faux Jamaican accent despite having never left Ipswich in their lives. And wherever there’s black kids talking in fake carribean, there’s white kids talking in fake carribean. I would laugh but for the fact i’d probably get “bored” (that’s stabbed to those of you not fluent in “street”).
Along with all the council estate you’ve got non council estate areas like the old Norwich Road which is just as bad – lots of colourful looking OTT FUBU n gold chain ruud bwoys limping their way out of the flats by the Y junction.
McDonalds in the town centre on a night or even a day is always brimming with so called chavs, rude boys and loud girls with staffie terriers and babies in prams. You can’t get through the front door without sampling the colourful local dialect up close and personal – not that I’d want to get through the front door of McDonalds for any reason other than to leave the place. And the Ipswich McDonalds is particularly bad – from what I remember going in there as a kid – people eating their “meals” in the toilet? You bet! Whole families sitting on the staircase enjoying their supersize relish-laden ultra-fatty s**t-a-brick-BSE-burger? Oh yeah!
What a s**thouse.
I remember one night I was out in Ipswich with a couple of friends and just between the hours of 8 and 11 in the evening we had 4 or 5 fights started on us by random, aggressive wasters. One of which was over my friend throwing a chicken wing (the picnic benches outside KFC in cardinal park) at my other friend and a tool on the next bench thinking it was aimed at his friend – who himself wasn’t even bothered. The lad I was with would have stretched this other fella out as well – people in this town don’t care who’s bigger or stronger, it’s all fair game if your attitude’s the size of the home counties.
The whole town seems to have the “what the f**k you looking at?!?” attitude, and unfortunately most are the types to do something about it.
And then there’s Kartouche nightclub – in a nutshell it was once called hollywoods – had a massive drug problem – the doorteam murdered a customer – closed down. Reopened as Kartouche (which was banging when it first opened in the year of garage 99/2000). It soon degenerated into a coke-fuelled fightclub, lads would bring guns up with them, the (same) doorteam murdered another customer, a girl was chased out of the club and raped under the nearby ancaster bridge, the heavy-handed doorteam murdered yet another customer and finally it was closed down.
It has recently reopened as Zest – I’ll give it two more years.
I could write all day about this craphouse of a town, which because of its sprawling and continually growing size applied for city status and was turned down by a panel of judges who spent a week “taking in the sights” and decided after careful consideration that they didn’t award steaming s**tpiles with city awards; but I won’t. I’ll just dispense some invaluable advice: Go for a day, cos the shopping centre’s not bad, but try not to go there for a night out and certainly don’t move there to live.