Ahhh. Spa towns. They conjure up certain images don’t they? There’s something about a town with the word spa after it. It brings to mind images of affluence and glowing healthy well-dressed people. If indeed that is the norm for spa towns then Cheltenham must be the exception. Oh don’t get me wrong it’s not a complete scum hole like say Coventry. (Wouldn’t Coventry sound more appealing if it had the word Spa after it?). But it’s not all I imagined it to be. Firstly let’s deal with the main street, the promenade. One tourist blurb web-site described the promenade as beautiful. Well it may well of achieved that status had it not been lined with a thousand and one average shops like Next and BHS, plus when I was strolling along it there was a mangy old dog spewing luminous green shit all over the place. That will be forever etched on my memory meaning the promenade will never acquire beautiful status for me!
When you've finished spending silly amounts of money on virtually non-existent footwear you may want to reward yourself with a light refreshment or two. Now I didn't frequent that many pubs or eateries whilst there. I can tell you I had the weakest Latte I've ever had the joy to experience in a coffee chain called Soho coffee, which then made me exceedingly ill later (NB. This may be due to my peanut allergy not the fact that their coffee contains unpleasant toxins, just in case they think about suing!) and a distinctly average Tuna and onion baguette from a local bakery. Sandwich matters aside I can half recommend a café bar called Peppers. Although we went on a Sunday afternoon where there was apparently one waitress dealing with at least 50 covers, the steak when it arrived some 10 hours after ordering was very nice indeed. Perfect hangover food. Ahh yes the hangover.
This would be because my guide for the evening before foolishly decided to point out a place called J's, which is basically known as the Vodka bar. I say foolishly as my thirst for Vodka is unquenchable and he didn't like Vodka. Notice the use of the word didn't there! An hour in the Vodka bar sorted that out for him. Should you ever find yourself in this place, I say purchase yourself a Kipplin which is a shot glass with Vodka, Chambord and something else (not sure what, 'it's a secret!) in it. Yum yum. Few of them and you won't care that Chelt has very little to offer in the wee hours other than a variety of cheesy night-clubs. Certainly you won't care when you get thrown out of J's at 11.20pm and end up in the very townie Bar Med as we did with a strange cross section of society. A couple of drinks in there and you won't give a hoot if your male compadre decides to stand at the bar proudly wearing your very girly glittery beanie hat. Hopefully as well by this time you'll have forgot that you ate in a very sub standard Mexican restaurant earlier in the evening and spent £4.10 on possibly the worst Margarita in the world, a glass full of Lime cordial basically. You'll won't remember what the food tasted like but it can't have been that great as you spent most of the evening arm wrestling over the table much to the bemusement of the other normal customers.
Yes there are ways to amuse yourself in Cheltenham if you manage to get inebriated enough to not care that come midnight you're rolling around underneath a tree on a patch of grass at the side of a main street with fairly amused passers by commenting on your behaviour every now and then.
I suppose for a more normal less garment staining way to amuse yourself you could visit bar Q on the main street and go upstairs and play American pool, which I did, badly. If the weathers fine, then take a seat one afternoon outside the Hogshead and do some serious people watching. Never before in my life have I seen such a cross-section of society pass before eyes in the space of two hours. I don't know whether it was mine or my friend's comments or just the gin but I was more than fairly amused.
That's not to say that Cheltenham is full of freaks before anyone starts to complain. I could find silly quirks in the most normal of people. Honestly. Ahem.
The rest of my stay I spent with my friend staying in, eating pizza and playing Tony Hawks on the PS2, for yes I had seemingly exhausted the delights of this spa town in a matter of 24 hours or so. My advice to you should you find yourself here without the convenience of friends with a nice home, ability to purchase takeaways and a games console, is head for the train station and put yourself on the next train to Bristol and civilisation.
Izzy Brooks.
pixie@happyandlost.co.uk
Previously in the Garbled Guide To The UK:
1) Devon.
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