for many, many people, look you see, to refer to Hartlepool as innovators is to do them a serious, if not quite grave, injustice. it is rather better to refer to them as the ambassadors of innovation, or even the personification of what it is to innovate.
most famously this is, to be sure, illustrated and emphasised by their strict, no-nonsense approach to the French, France in general and anything which might be French. you can read the specifics by clicking these words here, but in short basically if you might be interpreted as being even slightly French then do not step a single foot within Hartlepool, for you shall be hung until you are dead, and then again.
the approach taken by Hartlepool towards all things French is one that the vast majority of the world simply say "yes" to, or oui if they are feeling particularly brave or at a safe distance from their penchant for impromptu yet fabulous show trials. it remains to be seen whether or not the similar view Hartlepool has towards cars catches on the same.
yes, dear reader. i went to Hartlepool. proof of this is pictured above, and so may it also be below, in the form of a penalty fee i was given for having the temerity, audacity and nerve to not so much go in an automobile but to park it and step outside of it momentarily.
it's quite difficult to know what they want, really. the fine was issued within one single, solitary minute of a so-called "offence" being observed. perhaps the Borough Council of Hartlepool, in their infinite wisdom, have plans, ideas, ambitions and desires to turn their anti-French plains into a quasi Jurassic Park area, as in you may go there in a vehicle but under no circumstances may you exit that vehicle.
oh, sure, where i stopped there was some sort of sign saying "permit holders only", of which i was not a member of such a select band. but every street near where i was required to be had the same. as every single business premises bar a bookies was boarded up, shuttered and had for sale or to let signs on them i figured a momentary stop would do no harm. now, to my cost, i know better.
and just how much am i to pay for the privileged of parking in an exclusive area of the generally exclusive world of Hartlepool? £70, reduced to £35 if i pay within 14 (fourteen) days of the issue. the latter is proving complex and tricky, for their website where they said i could pay says that "the service is not available". perhaps Hartlepool is struggling with all this new "internet" thing, or has suspected it of being French and currently are hanging some servers and fibre optic cables after an impromptu, mostly fair trial.
is it that Hartlepool harbours a dream of being the first truly carless land in our fine nation? whilst they have roads, and surely some of the fine citizens of the place have learned to drive, they seem keen not to let anyone actually stop their car anywhere. maybe it is a tribute to that one episode of Doctor Who, where all the space aliens drove round and round in their space cars for several years. it was a David Tennant Doctor Who episode; that is all i can recall.
yes, a little later in the day - for i was not going to allow the small matter of a "you are not welcome here" fine prevent me from enjoying the picturesque charms of Hartlepool - i did indeed discover where they keep all the lavish parking bays where you, a commoner who is not a permit holder, may park. for a fee, of course, but £1 for 2 hours is somewhat better than what i paid for a few moments.
quite, i did indeed curse my misfortune at finding an alternative, suitable and perfectly serviceable parking area later on. but, what is done is done.
my recollection of the incident day was that it was pouring with rain and there was basically no one else around. this, indeed, is the circumstance in which many believe Hartlepool is best experienced. anyway, i suspect the traffic officer was the only other person around at that time, not that i saw them. undoubtedly he, or she, felt that their day was all the more worthwhile and beneficial for issuing me with this penalty.
right, i am going to go and watch those splendid scenes of Rob Brydon in Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels on repeat, see if that cheers me up.
there it is, then. a painful, hurting, humiliating scar associated with me and my character for life. anyone who investigates or otherwise audits me shall see this and know that i did something what upset the employed authorities of Hartlepool. they will wonder how i escaped a trial.
do i consider the so-called "Hartlepool dream", which is to say visiting Hartlepool, worthwhile despite this most unfortunate incident? sure, why not. if for some reason you want to go there, or need to be there, just battle through their confused, bewildered and quite scared approach to cars. they will get used to them in time, i have every confidence.
be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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