As I drove through the centre of Nottingham, a familiar greyness clung to the dismal British landscape like a dusty curtain shrouded over the main stage at a rundown theatre. This environment didn't convince me that I'd made a wise decision as I neared my resting place for the evening. An old pub restored into the Clarence Hotel was situated roughly a mile from the city centre, I quickly learned that this was the more diverse and the less affluent part of town; let down tires, large angry dogs on chains and drug deals were occurring with a high frequency. Nevertheless I was made rather welcome by the numerous staff in the dark, dingy and slightly undesirable place of rest. My room was basic definitely, but far from destitute, with the luxury of having a wall mounted TV, that didn't work, and when I say wall-mounted it was merely balanced on an aged and creaking wall bracket. This was in addition to numerous loose lighting fixtures and a poorly assembled tray of tea and coffee brewing equipment, however it was my home for the evening, and to be fair what more could you want for £23.50 which also included a 'continental' Breakfast (two slices of toast, jam and fruit juice) I hasten to add. So, although the aging wallpaper and flaking paintwork were enticing, not to mention the hole which I can only imagine resulted from someone trying to punch their way out of the Bathroom, I decided to quickly seize the opportunity to explore Nottingham.
Carefully attempting to retrace my way back to the city centre, ultimately taking the long way, one thing stood out to me, 'My God, there are so many hills in this town!'. I swear I walked up a hill on the way into town and that evening when I left I had to traverse up another hill to return to my hotel. Upon reaching the main hub of Nottingham, I was greeted with a rather underwhelmingly familiar skyline of a bustling out-of-London city much like what I expect Manchester, Birmingham and Newcastle to resemble and although I wasn't immediately taken by the cityscape, the impressive, and vast town square that opened up behind a major parade of shops, which preceded the town hall (above) as well as an incredible statue of local hero Brian Clough restored some of my faith. I must add also that the sculptor of said creation captured a great likeness of the lovable Football manager and personality. After an hour or so and a successful trip to Gregg's, I came across the more Historical District of the city and with it, the Sun blasted through the dispersing cloud and blanketed Nottingham in a pure and brilliant Summer glow. This gave me a great opportunity to enjoy the ruins of the castle walls, and the legend of Robin Hood all the more with my Camera. This ultimately led me to the Olde Trip to Jerusalem Inn, which is the oldest watering-hole in Britain (apparently), dating back to 1189AD (apparently), also being the favoured place to seek refreshment of the Crusades (apparently).
And so, I sat in the cavernous old tavern sipping on a Pint of 'A Knight's Tale' with my faith and wisdom in my decision making being somewhat restored. The only issue that now faced was trekking all the way back up one of those many low incline but long hills to my temporary lodgings worrying whether my tires had been slashed.
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