Steve Regan: The Return of The King

MY visit to Hull last weekend was a blast. I came, I hugged, I drank and I lost my mobile phone in The Piper. The phone's since been returned to me. A reporter from the Hull Daily Mail had picked it up accidentally and taken it home, thinking it was hers. Friday evening began with me slurping lots of cider in the Spring Bank Tavern then, as I say, onto The Piper.

After chucking out time, I snatched a few hours of sleep then went on an early morning walk-about. Up a side street off Newland Avenue, passing Holiness Hall, then around by St Vincent's Church. The name on the sign outside the building is rendered St. Vincents Church (missing the necessary apostrophe) and that's the case also outside the associated social club.

Tch Tch. It's sad to see standards of education are falling everywhere, even in the Catholic Church. Sad also to see that the big house between the church and the school, which used to be home to a religious community, remains all boarded up and consequently an eyesore.

Onward I went past the St Johns Hotel, an excellent pub, I recall, but one that also has no regard for proper use of the apostrophe. Very early in the morning is just the right time to take a close look at a cityscape and it's a particularly rewarding experience if you are looking around your old haunts, which are so full of memories.

Down the Beverley Road I trundled, past the Bull Inn, with its golden bull sculpture sticking out over the pavement like an Old Testament false idol. It was at this pub, I think, that I once spent a bizarre rainy afternoon as part of a group of lost souls taking part in the Kountry Karaoke session. I put myself down for Witchita Line Man but was never called up to sing it.

Close by is The Swan Inn and next to it an old cinema that was damaged when a bomb fell close to it during the Blitz. You can still see the shards of broken glass from the bomb blast clinging to the cinema window frames. Some 60-odd years have passed since that terrible day the Luftwaffe struck and yet absolutely nothing has been done to renovate or rebuild this site.

Only in Hull is there such municipal lethargy and a lack of pride in the city's heritage that World War II bombsites (yes, there are others) have been allowed to remain untouched.

The lower stretches of Beverley Road hold a fascination for me. Have a look at the Glad Tidings Mission. I imagine a just a few old ladies meet there each Sunday to praise the Lord with the simple piety that marks their denominational tradition. Wherever two or three people are gathered in my name, eh? But how long can these small congregations continue? I expect the next time I come to Hull this lovely little mission hall will have been turned into one of Hell City Council's dreary housing advice centres - or a mosque.

I clocked the jaunty looking Greek Taverna. Never did get to dine there during my time living in Hull. Shame. I bet the taverna is far superior to all those soulless chain restaurants staffed by gormless adolescents that you find littering the city's hideous retail parks.

Steve Regan: The Return of The King continued here..

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