Where I'm from 6: Visiting Kingston

Visiting Kingston is like taking some illicit drug. The anticipation and excitement at arriving in a place that you know is bad for the soul but at the same time, you just can't resist its pull. It passes itself off as one of the more affluent areas of London, but it has the look and feel of just any town centre. Not metropolitan enough to be cool; not country enough to be quaint. A sort of stuck in the 'middleness', something that is trying to be more than the sum of all its parts and is always trying to cry out for more attention.

I suppose I am being harsh on the place, but having gone to school here for seven years, you can't harbour nice feelings about the town. There is something inherently wrong about an education system that leaves you scarred by its utter futility. How many of the skills I actually learnt at school are necessary to the current life that I am leading? Chemical formulae, Technology lessons, the rules of German grammar? All of these things have absolutely no bearing on my life. And because of those things, even today I approach Kingston Upon Thames with a sense of dread.



Shivering my way through the one way system you realise that the town centre has been butchered by its own relief road. Everything within the lines of mad drivers is clean, functional and expensive. Everything on the 'outskirts' is dirty, dysfunctional and cheaper. Nothing is dirt cheap however as this is London. This is daytime Kingston. However at night, 'Hyde' comes out and the respectable suburban character is uncloaked in an orgy of drinking and illicitness. Going through the town centre is to put it bluntly an unpleasant experience. A mix of wannabes and filth wandering where they please, trying to get laid and always glassing the general public. Smash ups abound and the MET seem to wander around sirens ablaze but actually do very little. Despite the proliferation of CCTV, you can actually get away with a lot.

The crowning point of Saxon Kings, ancient market town and an important crossroads in historic times, it seems quite hard to find the gems in this town centre. In fact it seems as if the council takes a deliberate pleasure in hiding anything that seems worthwhile from the general public. Instead, the 'Royal Borough' seems intent on cramming as many people in during the day to shop and in the night to drink. A useless economy, the economy to shop is what keeps Kingston alive and at the moment thriving (the nearest threat is Croydon, not an Out of Town Centre). Rumours are abound for bigger shops and bigger bars. Expect the pleasantries to increase.



However there are a few gems to be found in this town, but you have to look hard for them. Kingston's great delight in hiding anything of merit becomes apparent when you actually find out there are a few ancient monuments scattered around the town centre. The Coronation Stone, Clattern Bridge, All Saints Church. The pretty marketplace, the spectacular riverside. Further out, there is some great nature in Richmond Park and along the Hogsmill River. And there is actually a lot of interest about the town, hard to believe when you walk through it. But my goodness, it is hard work.

Getting there: Maybe. It's on the train line from Waterloo and at the centre of South West London's bus network. I'll explain more at the end of the month when I revisit this lovely town.