Camden.
The Somalian drug gangs, the fifteen year olds in their black make up, the chavs racing their fucking hairdryer powered scooters up and down the road outside your bedroom at four in the morning, the heroin addicts shambling around like zombies in "Dawn of the Dead" before jacking up in a local phone box, the constant cries of "weed, weed, oi mate, weed!", the trucker cap brigade, not being able to get off the tube on a sunday morning without strong arming your way through a crowd of hawkers, con men, beggars, thieves and tourists; all contained within a snarling, choking mass of jammed up traffic and exhaust fumes.
lovely place.
