Read my Southampton travelogue here.

The twenty-second city on my list is the West-Midlands city Stoke-on-Trent. You will find this city 145 miles North-west of London.

Stoke-on-Trent has a very straightforward etymology. Stoke comes from an old English word meaning place. The Trent is the river it was founded upon so it literally means ‘place by the river Trent.’ Over the years other suggestions have been made including ‘holy place.’ Perhaps this was in reference to either the Stoke Minster church. Stoke achieved city status in 1925 despite being initially rejected for having too low a population.

My journey to Stoke wasn’t great, but first, let’s talk about the ordeal that is Euston station. Anybody who knows Euston knows what I’m talking about. But for the uninitiated, it is pure chaos. Thy don’t announce your train until five minutes before it leaves, so you have a whole ocean-load of people descending onto the train – of course, there are no ticket barriers to help filter them.

This meant that I didn’t get a seat, so I was standing from 10.46 when my London Northwestern train left Euston to 12.50 when it arrived in Stafford. In the past, *cough *cough * with Hereford, I’ve not had much luck with changing trains. Since then I’ve always taken direct trains instead of changing somewhere. However, the train tickets to Stoke were super cheap, I decided to change in Stafford. But this was where my cheapskate ways backfired on me.

My train arrived into Stafford nearly 15 minutes late meaning I missed my 12.43 connecting train to Stoke. Station staff told me my next available train would be at 13.43. But I had arrived into Stafford at 12.50. Now I wandered if I could walk to Stoke, but it was sixteen miles away, or just exploring Stafford, but then the 13.10 Crosscountry train to Manchester via Stoke arrived. The nice train man said that even though I shouldn’t be taking the train, I should do it anyway, so I did. Luckily, there were no ticket inspectors on board, so I arrived in Stoke at 13.25 – 25 minutes behind schedule.

Now Stoke does not have a good reputation. Despite once being an industrial hub, it has since become quite rundown. Alas like many towns and city across the midlands and Northern England, it suffered greatly from de-industrialisation and has never really recovered. The lack of town centre didn’t help either. I’ve never heard anybody use “Stoke” and “beautiful city” in the same sentence. When I arrived, I understood why. There were major roadworks outside of the station – a bit like when I arrived in Gloucester or Salisbury.

Yet, as I headed into the “city centre,” the roadworks only continued. Stoke’s station – like Lichfield or Milton Keynes is on the outskirts of the city meaning it was a trek uphill to get to any civilised area.

Granted my first impression of Stoke wasn’t great, but my second was much better. As I soon discovered the pleasant Hanley Park that had been built on the Trent and Mersey Canal in what had been a massive clay quarry. Stoke once had a thriving pottery industry.

They also had a duck-feeding station where you could buy food that ducks can actually eat. As I’ve been telling people for years, you should not feed them bread. It isn’t good for them and can attract rats. And who likes rats?

But what Stoke has never had is a cathedral, so there was no over-sized church for me too look around. it was nearing two by this time, so I headed further into the city to find some lunch. At least that was the idea. I got side-tracked by what I thought was Stoke Minster, but it was actually St Mark’s church which was closed for renovation. The nice builder told me that I should come back on Thursday when it will be open again.

After this disappointing detour, I resumed my waking into the city centre where I saw a statue of poet Arnold Bennet and the Potteries museum, which was closed on Mondays.

I also saw lots of signs promoting Stoke’s 100th birthday yet the city was half-dead. Half the shops were closed and there was only one charity shop (????) selling a donated jacket for £15 (????.) Crazy. Plus, the city centre just seemed lifeless. Despite the lovely weather, things were not nearly as bustling as I was expecting. Hull was livelier than Stoke.

Anyway, I headed into the indoor market section of the Potteries shopping centre. But like Doncaster, the market was half-closed with far fewer lunch options than I was expecting. In the end, I went to the Yaya cafe where I bought a classic breakfast for £4.50.

Sure, it wasn’t fine dining, but for £4.50, it certainly filled a hole. After Doncaster, I think this was the cheapest food I’ve eaten.

The cafe also had a Thai menu and the, presumably, Thai chef, said he liked my beard and he was trying to grow his own. It is not easy for us East Asians to grow facial hair, but with patience, anything is possible.

At this point, it was 3pm and I was puzzled as to my next steps. All the museums were closed and there weren’t any churches or charity shops for me to look around. However, I saw many signs to the Central Forest Park, so that was my next stop. I also saw this:

which is very important in Stoke.

The Central Forest Park was certainly a highlight. It looked brilliant in the sunshine. It was certainly worth the aching calf muscles I received from hiking up a very steep hill, which maybe I shouldn’t have hiked up.

I did try hiking down an equally dangerous route, but my common sense prevailed and I returned to terra firma in a more sensible way where I saw some anti-emo graffiti.

Poor emos. You would think that with all their nihilism and angst, they’ve been f*cked enough. I also saw these two massive boulders in the park.

As I like rock climbing, I scaled them easily enough. At the top, I met a fellow climber and we chatted a little bit. When I say I like rock-climbing, I mean indoor bouldering where there are crashmats if you all. There were no crash mats under these boulders, so even though they were only twelve feet off the ground, it was still scary.

At 4, I headed back to the city centre where the shops were already closing. Seriously, what a dead city. You know what else was closed? The gent’s toilets in the potteries’ shopping centre. But this nice lady gave me the key she uses for the disabled toilet, so I could use that. She even called me sugar when I returned it. =D. The people in Stoke were so friendly.

At 4.45, I headed to the city’s CEX where I bought the films Lord of War and American Gangster. My train home was in a couple of hours, so I ambled back to Hanley Park. En-route, I tried and failed to look inside the local Catholic church.

And then I took a lovely walk along the Trent and Mersey canal.

where I saw some anti-Tory graffiti.

Although you would think that with Kemi Badenoch and being massacred in the last election, they’ve been f*cked enough.

Anyway, at six, I decided to get dinner before heading back, I bought a chicken burger and chips from a kebab shop – yep I know, I ate super healthily yesterday. How were the chicken burger chips? As good as you would expect. The chips weren’t well seasoned, but it was only £6.

Then it was time to get my 18.58 train back to Stafford. Except I couldn’t as it was cancelled. Instead, I was told to get the 19.04 train instead. I was debating whether I could be cheeky and get another earlier train, but, in the end, it didn’t make any difference.

I caught the 19.04 train and arrived in Stafford at 19.21 – plenty of time to catch the 19.32 train to London Euston, where for the first time in ages, the inspector actually asked to see my rail card. But that concluded my day in Stoke.

I do understand its poor reputation. The city sadly never recovered from deindustrialisation. As such, it was half-dead, but it did have some gorgeous natural scenery and some very nice people. It definitely wasn’t the worst city I’ve visited, but it was up there for sure. If you want to go to Stoke, firstly, why? But secondly, do not go via Stafford. Get a direct train even if it’s more money.

It was a day of anti-emo sentiment, outdoor climbing and the friendliest people north of Watford. Winchester. You’re next.