| Dens of Iniquity The deprivation of the inner city; the slums, the one-time planners dreams of the sixties turned sour. Giant tower blocks forming a fierce landscape on cheaply built overspills. Grim reminders of past failures. Not many with boarded windows, yet still inhabited by squatters, and in use as dens of iniquity. The squalor, scandal and deprivation; drug addicts, prostitutes, meths drinkers, society’s unfortunate people. Areas of another time; unreal in the merry England of Sherringham and his contempories. More reminiscent of the Bronx in Harlem or the Ghettos of Fort Apache and the like. Badlands pit was around an acre in size. An old mill lodge of the Lancashire cotton era, now a former shadow of itself as it now lay in a rather melancholy state. Littered with rubbish, both on the banks and in the water, it was horrendously disfigured by the surrounding malaise. The place was a toilet. Prolific and abundant weed covered the entire area. Old railway sleepers with oil drums tied together with rope floated where school children had built long forgotten rafts during the previous school holidays. Plastic carrier bags and large lumps of foam rubber adorned the remaining spaces. In the depths lay numerous shopping trolleys, old bicycle frames, car wheels and even a Reliant three-wheeler sat nestled below the dam, a fate unbefitting to this once picturesque little pool. It was towards the end of the sixties, as a young lad, that I had bailiffed the pool, which at the time was controlled by the once mighty Greenhall Whitney Angling Association. A smaller spring-fed backwater ran into the main pool. The main pool being approximately  When you purchase through links on our site, we may earn an affiliate commission, which supports our community.
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