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So, where is Glossop? Well, it nestles in a valley on the edge of the Peak District. It's technically in Derbyshire, though it's right on the very edge, miles and miles away from Derby. It has Stockport postcodes, the nearest main hospital is Tameside, and the borough council is High Peak. Most people seem to know it because of driving through it from Sheffield to Manchester, or vice versa (the infamous Snake Pass and Woodhead Pass are the main routes through). Older local accents are more Lancashire than anything, but the youngsters have much more of a Mancunian accent. All in all, enough to cause an identity crisis!
Historically, Glossop was a mill town - nowadays it's a sizeable market town, popular with commuters due to the easy half-hour train journey to Manchester. Surrounded by hills, virtually every house has 'stunning views' (an estate agent's delight!) and you can get out into beautiful countryside really quickly. There are loads of lovely local walks - it's possible to explore a lot of the Dark Peak including Kinder Scout without going very far afield at all. In fact, Glossop would make a great base for a walking holiday.
The town itself is an interesting place for a day out - there are some familiar 'High Street' names like Boots and Costa Coffee, and there is a small retail park with shops like Next, Argos, Brantano and Pets at Home, but there are also lots of independent shops, fascinating for a good potter around. Foodies will appreciate the award-winning local butcher, traditional greengrocers and gourmet delicatessens. There are also good bookshops (new and second-hand books) - as well as a good selection of charity shops and an indoor and outdoor market.
For families, Manor Park is well worth a visit. The adventure playground is well-equipped and very popular. There is also a fenced-off area for little ones and a skateboard park for older kids. There are ducks to feed, a miniature train which runs at weekends, a river to paddle in, crazy golf, hard courts, and plenty of space for football, cricket and other games. A kiosk sells very reasonable priced ice creams. There is also a quieter formal garden which is a lovely place to sit.
There are plenty of sporting activities available - including swimming, gymnastics, karate, judo, football, cricket, rugby as well as a busy leisure centre, a Pilates studio and a popular family-owned gym. Amateur dramatics is open to all ages - the local Partington theatre runs workshops for youngsters and puts on a good range of productions. The town also has a strong contingent of Scouts and Guides, at all levels.
I have found Glossop a friendly place to live, with plenty to do, and I really like the fact that despite not being a 'born and bred' local, it's virtually impossible to walk down the High Street without seeing someone I know!
Glossop in itself is a lovely little town situated near the hills. In itself I said, add people and you have something that really does resemble a scene out of The League of Gentlemen. This place is over flowing with weirdo’s. Even the children are weird. They are usually the ones untouched by madness, the sane little individuals of a town. Not here. They are born weird and spend most of their lives being weird. The only thing which they can do to prevent a life long torment of being weird is to leave. And that for a Glossopian is also weird. These people are smashing. They don’t even know it. I’ll now take a different approach to this opinion. I’ll take you through a life in a day (twist on day in the life) of a trueborn Glossopian. Starting with their birth. This is a tricky thing to start off with. Usually relations procreate causing strange looking dividing eggs from the start. This cell division in the female starts to take on child form and when 9 months of incubation is up, out pops a baby. A normal looking baby with an odd brain. Not an oddly shaped brain but an oddly thinking brain. A brain that will spend its entire childhood thinking there is only one place on the flat Earth, Glossop. A brain that will long for the day it burns its first bonfire and torments it’s neighbour. There is one more thing to life for a Glossopian baby and that thing is…Whitfield and Gamesley. Where all the hard nuts live, the kids to aspire to. The only attainable thing in the world of Glossop. Moving on now into infanthood and juniorhood. They go to their local schools and learn the ways of the playground. This involves calling fatty ‘fatty’, throwing stones at dinner ladies and learning to count to eleven. Anything past eleven is a mystery. Anyway there are only eleven roads in the minds of a Glossop kid. There are only eleven football teams to play against on a Wednesday after sch
ool and there are only eleven stars in the sky. If there are more, a Glossop kid doesn’t know and doesn’t care. After eleven comes twelfty or a word of a similar sound. The alphabet. There are a number of letters in the alphabet but it takes time to work out in which order they come. It took me ages. But it came so I can’t be too many pence short of a shilling. To write an opinion on Glossop you have mention the town, where it’s situated, what the buildings are like what there is to do. To put all that description in a sentence and as the well known phrase goes a sentence tells a thousand words – think Last of the Summer Wine. You’ve got it. That’s what it’s like. Highlights are the river that flows fast enough to get through the town without becoming too disturbed, and the reservoirs. My theory is that the reservoirs are held back without dams. They lie on the fringes of Glossop and they don’t want to come any nearer. They look on over the skyline, which consists of a large grey chimney towards Manchester. The water knows that in Manchester it will be polluted but not mentally disturbed. So it lets a thin trickle through the town of Glossop which moves so fast it can look like a raging torrent. But it’s not that’s an illusion. People outside Glossop slander us but luckily for them we don’t realise. We don’t understand the word ‘slander’. We don’t know our libel from our slander from our salamander. We haven’t got a clue. They call us chicken chasers, hillbillies, country bumpkins, inbreeds, special people. The latter is right. We are special. We are very special. I still live there.
Before I start I better say that I am writing from a slightly biased opinion because Glossop is the place I have felt most at home at (Iv'e moved a round a bit) I think that Glossop is a great town with lots of good things. Firstly its right near the peak district, lots of beutiful countryside. Its also near Manchester city center (approx half an hours train/car journey) so lots of shopping, jobs, entertainment,pubs,clubs etc. Glossop also has the highest ratio of pubs to people in England so you are spoilt for choice on that front! If you are in the area its definately worth a visit. Here are some places I would recomend. The George hotel (opposite the train station) the staff are friendly, the rooms are nice and the food is good. The Mannor inn (opposite Kwik fit on high street east)very quiet, small pub with several rooms. The kwie ping chinese resturant(next to Lun Poly on the highstreet), This is the best chinese food I've ever eaten anywhere in the country- also has a good vegitarian menu. The Lokanta (On high street east, next to Esso) Lovely turkish food,the resturant doesn't look very good from the outside but inside it's great.