Inchcock’s Historical Walks of Ye Olde Nottingham: To the Arboretum

Inchcock’s Historical Walks of Ye Olde Nottingham

*Incorporating his Guide to Visitors to the Arboretum


No mobiles or ipods, muggers, radios, drugs, beggars or rubbish in them days. Nice!

A place where an extensive variety of woody plants are cultivated. For scientific, recreational, educational, and ornamental purposes.

We start at Radford Road, departing from where the Alms Cottages were situated, until the 1960’s, when the then new Police Station was built, and later fire-bombed in the 1982 and 2011 Nottingham Riots.

Police fire

Canning Circus Police Station – fire-bombed in the last riots.

We walk up along the road, past where ‘The Grand Theatre’, where Nottingham’s first screening of films to the public on 13th July 1896 was situated. It closed in the 50’s. It reopened as the Leno Cinema, and was very popular. A pay-day loan company and a bookies shop that got raided last month is now at this spot on the road.

As we pass the Jeweller’s shop on our left, that was ram raided in the 2011 riots, and we pass the alleyway that Albert Staples (71) was stabbed to death in 2008, we come to the ‘We buy gold’ pawnbrokers, where the Co-op food store stood up until 2000, and the police car was fire-bombed in 2011.

As we get to where now stand’s the much shop-lifted Asda (Walmart) store, that replaced the twelve year old blocks of flats that had to be pulled down due to their crumbling concrete, we see the graffiti covered war memorial plaque near the market stalls, in front of the public house where two men were stabbed last March.

Over the road on our right, the church that has now become a mosque is sat between the Indian take-away, and the Benefits Office. Neither were attacked during the riots.

At the second-hand charity shop, next to the three closed down retail units, we turn left onto the damaged trees-lined Gregory Boulevard, with the remains of the fire-bombed cafe on our left, hidden behind the graffiti covered advertising panels.

We cross the road to our right, we pass the Oriental/Asian food superstore, with its colourful array of old fruit, wrinkled vegetables, and threatening stares from the gathering clan of local youths waiting to go to the Job Centre Plus.

RubbishAt the traffic lights near the Forest recreation fields, and closed down church, we turn up Mount Hooton Road, where the Tram stops, and park & ride car park, that had three cars stolen and fourteen damaged in the 2011 Nottingham riots, is situated.

We walk up the hill, ignoring the condoms and blood on the pavement, and cross over the road at the ‘out of order’ pedestrian crossing lights.

pneuAt the top of the hill, we pass the Public House on our left of what now is Waverley Street, down the hill.

On our left, the P N E U Schools (Independent) with its Security Guarded gates at 13 Waverley Street, with its security guards and alarmed gates. Then on our right, the rows of old Victorian houses, in which the rich and wealthy of Nottingham once lived, the first two now knocked into one and occupied by the Ukrainian Social Club.

hid in treesDown the hill, we come to the first gate into the Nottingham Arboretum (where I was mugged last September), where you can imagine in days gone by the nannies would take their charges for a stroll in their prams, listen to the music from the Band Stand, and partake in an ice-Treesmuggedcream. Today it is where the prostitutes take their charges for a stroll into their knickers, listen to the music from their ipods, and partake in sex and drugs.

There was always a park keeper prepared to take care of you in the old days. Nowadays there is always a mugger lurking to take care of your money, mobile, and cash-card.

Where once the lovingly cared for beds of flowers flourished, the detritus and debris of the current lifestyle litter the place, fag-ends, dumped old cycles, condoms, phlegm, sweet wrappers, and the like.


Cleaner in those days yer know…

The large pond, once so praised and appreciated by Nottingham folk, now stinks as the leaves are left to rot in the water. The few ducks left struggle to swim in the murky water, and the peacocks have all been killed or stolen.

The CCTV camera put in place in 2006, and had its wires cut the same day, is still not operational.

HotelarsonWhere once the cafe hut was always busy, and the chairs outside always full of happy sociable customers, now the chairs have been stolen, and they only sell coke and sandwiches through the narrow security grating.

AviaryWe walk down passing the Mansfield Road entrance, we pass the Aviary, where the Police van was attacked in the 2011 Nottingham riots, and Karen Mitchell was raped last April, we pass the Park Bench donated in the memory of a local councillor, now vandalised and dilapidated, next to the spot where the police found a knife, that turned out to be the murder weapon used in the killing of a 54 year-old female shop assistant on Mansfield Road, another unsolved murder, in 2002.

We end this enjoyable Historical Walk of Olde Nottingham, exiting the Arboretum opposite the fire-bombed in the 2011 Nottingham riots, Police Station, now closed down.

Anyone interested in taking a ‘Guided tour of Olde Nottingham’, please contact the Tour Guide, Juan Inchcock, at Nottingham City Hospital, the Benefits Offices on Parliament Street, the Pound Shop or Alcoholics Anonymous.

More Historical Walks of Ye Olde Nottingham to follow.

Inchcock’s Guide to Nottingham’s arboretum

aGuide topYour tour guide will walk you through the route from Hyson Green, to the Nottingham Arboretum – describing along the way, the current multi-culturally rich lifestyle as opposed to the history of Nottingham in the same area.

The following statement was given to the Nottingham police, by a 67 year old, 5’3″ tall, made redundant, overweight, bald, bespectacled, hearing aids wearing, depressed, cardiac suffering, arthritic, lesser endowed, angina ridden, imitation man named Juan Inchcock, after he’d decided to take a walk (hobble) for the first time in years through the Nottingham beautiful Arboretum, to feed the ducks, in an effort to cheer himself up a bit.

The Statement:

On Friday 1st October, I took a walk to the Nottingham Arboretum on Dryden Street.

I meandered down the contraceptive ridden top path, walking down through the bottles and food packages, and the abandoned broken umbrella, to the detritus covered duck pond at the bottom of the site.

The ducks were not around, so I fed the pigeons some bread and seed, as I rebuffed the foul mouthed down-and-out Wurzel Gummage double who was demanding money from me.

I was walking between some bushes and trees towards the exit, two youths appeared, one holding a knife, and they demanded my cash and cash card. I(I realised this after a while, as it took me a bit of time to hear and understand what they wanted due to their accents and me hearing aids… but I got it after one pointed his steak-knife in my direction.) The one that looked like a miniature version of Wladimir Klitschko did most of the threatening and had the knife.

They were very unhappy when I told them I did not have a cash card on me, then I produced the £2.45 in cash I had on me… they searched me and nicked me mobile, then belted me around the head, and ran off with my carrier bag, that contained an apple, some medications, a pack of tissues, a pot of nuts, and a small carton of orange juice.

As I rose from the ground, I realised I’d landed in some dog excrement.

At least they did not take my bus-pass!

Signature: Inchcock Chambers

ParkingsafeThe officers I was reporting this to, called in other officers, who had a good read and jolly laugh at my statement wot I’d dun and written like.

Of course they took in seriously.

I’ve not heard anything since.

Part 15 – A Nottingham Lad’s True Tales of Woe – Mother’s Singularities

Woes15 01

Part 15: Mother’s Singularities

One of the many duties Mummy gave me to do, was one of ‘supply officer’ – I’d get sent around to a neighbour to accrue various supplies, on loan, but of course they rarely if ever got returned.

Woes15 echoThe items would be, ‘a cup of sugar’, ‘a spoonful of tea’, ‘three slices of bread’, ‘ a knob of Echo (margarine, no one in our Terrace had butter), ‘a cup of milk’, or ‘two fags’ until whichever day she said she would return them.

The responses I would get would differ, but generally they would be: ‘Sod off’, ‘She hasn’t gave me, me bread (or whichever commodity) back from last week yet’, ‘A swift belt around the head and the door slamming to’, or occasionally they would encourage their dog to attack and chew on my leg.’

Oddly enough, I cannot recall any of our neighbours coming to our house to ‘borrow’ food or anything else really.

Woes02RizlaFor a while, apart from the nub collecting, fag making, and hairnet packing etc – I was ensconced into a job in the wood yard, either bundling the wood or collecting scrap from building sites etc.

It was a friend of mothers who owned the yard, and he paid very well… it soon ended when he was sentenced to three years for nicking the wood in the first place.

Mummy Returns – Work Commences

Just as I was about to leave school at 14 years of age, Mummy re-appeared on the scene after a nice 3 year break.

And Dad once more relented and took her back in, a move he much regretted later. (So did I)

Dad got me job as goffer and van lad at Whiteheads Robin Hood Confectionery, Imperial Street, Bulwell. (the building is still standing today. (January 2014)

The wage was £3.3.0 a week (£3.15), for a 50 hour week.

Woes15 Whitehe

Of course mother got most of it out of me by guile or stealth, to help her with her addiction to the weed, bingo, and betting.

I enjoyed the job, when I was out on the delivery run, a great adventure to me – but the few times when I had to help in the factory – I really liked!

Apart from helping yourself to any toffees in the production lines, it was the women and girls there that made my day, they would help themselves to me whenever they liked!

They would even play with me in the dinner hour and a half.

It reminded me of ‘Auntie Mabel’.

But with a little more input from me!

Boy did I get further educated!

I was their toy, and did they enjoy their toy!

If only I could go back to that time…. Ah well, on with the disastrous dilemma of the Tales of Woe.

Several moves of abode

Later, I cannot recall why, most likely they were going to pull the house down before it fell down, but we moved into 52 Ipswich Circus, Sneinton Dale, into a council house.

Woes15 Tesco

Couldn’t resist this photo – how many of us can remember the brand packs on show?

I swapped jobs and went to work for Tesco, working my way up to assistant manager eventually.

And I met Sue, the love of my life, and started ‘Courting’.

But I later lost her. Best thing perhaps, because she always deserved better than me.

So, the house was gigantic to me, and the garden enormous!

So big, I built a little shed for my motorbike to go in. (Fair enough it fell down within two weeks, but I did make the effort)

Then after about 10 months or so, I returned home from Tesco one Friday night, pushed my motorbike round the back where the shed used to stand, and went into the house – only to find the lights not working – so I stumbled my way through to the front door lobby where the electricity metre was, digging out a shilling to put in it from my pocket on the way.

As I entered the front room, the light from the street lighting, offered enough illumination for me to see that there was no furniture in the room – nothing but the television set! (and that was on tick from Wigfall’s Pay-Slot Rentals.)

Had we been robbed?

Surely not, they’d be hard pushed to get a tenner for everything in the room.

I made my way to the bottom of the stairs, all the clothes pegs were bare, I went upstairs, everything had gone, curtains, everything, I went back down stairs, thinking I was going mad, was I in the right house?

Woes15 EvictI opened the front door, looked around, confirmed I was in the right house, turned around to go back in, and then saw the ‘Eviction Notice’ on the door. Mummy had been at it again!

A neighbour, rushed up to me, apologising for missing my arrival, she’d hoped to catch me and break the news to me before I got in the house.

Dad had been given a railway house, and had taken all the stuff with him.

Mummy had done another bunk, and I could stay with her (the neighbours) house until I found somewhere to live!)

This seemed to please her Security Guard husband’s Alsatian no end, as I able to supply the snarling, vicious, yet pampered beast with a choice of bone selections for him to chew on overnight, as I slept on the settee.

To Follow:

Part 16: A Nottingham Lad’s True Tale of Woe – Inchy goes into an ex-offenders hostel – without realising it!