Shitty little town where I grew up. Beckenham is a smallish suburb of Greater London, sequestered away between Bromley and Penge. As such, it's somewhat precariously balanced between leafy suburbia and the banlieues. Chief attractions? Fuck all. There are two pubs full of old men playing cribbage, one bar popular with young men in striped shirts and very shiny shoes who like loud music and fake tan, an endless parade of charity shops, a cinema that should have been burnt down years ago, and very little else. Demographic? White. Old. Resentful. It's also worth noting that Bromley is the only borough of London with no tube stations, thus making it a bitch to get anywhere else in the city. In hindsight, I grew up in the suburban equivalent of the Hotel California. If you find yourself in Beckenham, get out while you can. Do not wait. And most definitely do not try the fried chicken place on the high street first, unless you like intestinal parasites.

DesperationQuest. 8/20. 42 minutes.