why i spent 48 hours lost in nottingham’s alleys, caves, and questionable life choices
i just checked and it’s supposed to be that damp, moss-like chill today. the kind that seeps into your bones and makes you question why you ever thought a thermal flask made sense. the weather here feels like it forgot what it wanted to be-a bit like me at 3am munching on bread rolls in a 24-hour shop. turns out, this is the perfect time to wander without a map, because getting lost feels less like a failure when the cobblestones are slick with rain and the only traffic is a raccoon crossing the road like it owns the place.
what’s weird is how the locals talk about places. i asked a bartender where to go for street art, and he just pointed at the back of the pub where someone’s spray-painted a centaur wearing a derby hat. fair approach. later, a woman in the bookstore warned me not to trust the ‘haunted’ alley near St. Peter’s Square. she said something about a guy who swears he can hear construction noises from the 19th century. i’m 85% sure she’s just trying to scare me into buying more antique books.
this is the third time i’ve accidentally walked into a pub doorway sideways, like a disoriented penguin. tonight, i’m sitting outside one eating cold chips and trying to take Notes. Noses. Crowd. Nonexistent. The guy behind the counter asked if i needed a tissue, and i lied. i told him i was there to collect trauma. he nodded like an old friend.
history nerd moment: did you know the caves under this city were used as WWII air raid shelters? if you squint, you can imagine little boots climbing those tight ladders to hide from bombs. now? it’s a boutique ice cream place. life’s weird like that.
Google Maps says the closest beach is 6 hours away. i fixed the screen and tried to remember if that’s minutes or riverboat hours. another local told me to try the binoculars rental shop. i don’t know if he was joking or trying to sell me hope.
reviews here are mostly sarcastic. Yelp says the breakfast place has ‘hidden magic,’ which just means the eggs arrive with a side of existential dread. maybe i’ll try the pizza place someone said ‘isn’t haunted’ even though the name is literally ‘The Goshrop.’
anyway, i’m here. the heatmiser and I are getting acquainted. if you get bored, Leicester is just a short bus ride. or maybe not. depends on who you ask.
*maps
recommended for chaos:
- TripAdvisor: Not As Cool As TikTok Claims
- Local Busker’s Rants About Performers
- Weather Gone Nuts
photos*
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