You’ll notice it’s the youngsters like BRAPA and Blackpool Jane that can still pull out the mega blogging. Us folk approaching middle-age, like Duncan and myself, can only manage short posts, and I didn’t even have the energy to lump Hinckley’s many cultural highlights in with the faggots and Pedi post.

Cultural highlights ? Well, this is what Trip Advisor came up with;

Sadly, the Haunted Antiques Paranormal Research Center was closed, and you should never trust a place which spells Center like that.

Leaving my plate licked clean of Frank Parker’s faggots, to the sound of an Old Boy whispering “Moonlight Sha-dow“, I turned left and found my town map on a tea towel.

I’ll be honest; that tea towel makes it look a lot more interesting than it is. Last time here the Bass trail was the highlight of a town that looked a little scruffy but full of promise.

This time I bring you memories of another brewing legend, I guess the man responsible for Brew XI.

Loads of blue plaques. I had to look up “pugilist”.

I’d have popped in the ancient looking town museum to bring you more “istree”, but Monday is a bad day to do anything, it seems.

So instead I walked the bounds. Blimey, there’s a lot of nail bars. How many nails do people need ?

Sadly, the Holly Bush remains derelict,

joined by the sports bar, which may be the most oddly shaped of any building in town.

But it looked neater than 5 years ago, the centre nicely pedestrianised, and the street art shows promise,

but I’m happy to call it the “Kettering of the Midlands” and leave it there.

Go for the Bass. And the lunches at the Greyhound.

Until recently you could have gone for Nervous Records, run by local legend Gordon Hayes for 45 years till his death in January.

The obituary to Gordon says the following;

He had no intention of leaving Hinckley for long, only being away for 15 nights or so in his lifetime. When I asked him why he stuck around – as nothing ever happens in Hinckley – he said “I know, that’s why I like it“.

and I can’t say fairer than that.


  1. The Kettering of the Midlands is bang on, though if you visit at the weekend it has much more pubs worth travelling for. One of the Midlands top Charity Shop towns too, to the point locals complained the high street had more charidees than proper shops.

    Sad to see the record shop gone, though if I’m honest I found the prices a bit steep for such a scruffy shop.


  2. “only being away for 15 nights or so in his lifetime” reminds me that the owner of the Roebuck there ( the one you have a photo of half demolished ) told me that a few old Uttoxeter had never left the town, not only for a night but also not even for a day.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. You can approach middle age from two directions, of course.

        But I can confirm that pub tickers have an actual “real” age of about 17 compared to the beer tickers 67.


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