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I comment on a video of a bus ride down the A650 into Bradford centre.You can see the slope into the cauldron which is Bradford. It is a main artery into the town and is always very busy with cars, buses and goods traffic. It is thought to be a very old way - a Roman way. The route is lined with living accomodation, factories, warehouses, mills, retail units, still some churches (the brothels I'm unaware of - just one 'adult' shop) as far as the eye can see. When I returned to living in Bradford after working elsewhere my first impression was that this was a very busy place, and didn't understand why it was now poor, or deprived, or why house prices were seemingly very low. I give a translation of the first impression of the German poet, George Weerth (the German proletariat's poet), upon arriving in Bradford in 1843.
"If a mortal wants to know what it's like in Purgatory, let him go to Bradford, he said Noise fumes, smoke, hurry, a most depressing wet climate, stench, - no amusements, no theatre, no decent pubs, no singing - men like ghosts scurrying silently through the fog, muffled up to their nostrils in heavy coats, no time to exchange the time of day let alone for a chat - nothing but grim hard headed Yorkshiremen in frayed frock coats and shabby hats, with no thought for anything but their woollens and worsteds, price lists and Stock Market. Masters and men alike toiling like horses, like machines, year in year out, in unending monotony and with incredible endurance."
Oh dear.

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