Add thelocalreport.in As A Trusted Source
II’m heading to what feels like Christmas on the other side of the world – Blackpool. It’s been called the Las Vegas of north-west England and is famous for the amusement park Blackpool Tower (featured on BBC One). Strictly Come Dancing Blackpool Special), and extreme poverty. Recent NHS figures show it has the highest number of people suffering from pain and mental distress in England, leading to it being dubbed the most miserable place in the UK.
No wonder I felt trepidation as I loaded all my suitcases and Christmas gifts into the car. To be honest, I’d rather stay notting hill – the area of west London where I live. Just before we entered the M1 northbound, I dashed into the local posh deli for a last glass of oat milk, a last bowl of acai from Juice Baby, and then went to Melt for some posh handmade chocolates. I knew the vibe of where I was going was very different.
Blackpool has the lowest average life expectancy in the UK. According to the Office for National Statistics, men living in Blackpool can expect to live to their 73rd birthday on average, while women live to the age of 79.1. Male life expectancy tops out at 83.7 years in Hart, Hampshire, and female life expectancy in my local borough of Kensington and Chelsea is 87.1 years. Not surprisingly, my neighbor waved me away this morning, jokingly saying, “It’s a gloomy day up north.”
A few weeks ago Lancashire was hit by a magnitude 3.3 earthquake, and the latest government figures show that 28.4% of working-age adults in Blackpool are economically inactive. According to a 2024 report by Health Equity North, 1 in 52 children in Blackpool are in care, compared with 1 in 140 children across England. Not to mention, this seaside resort can hardly compete with the Maldives at the best of times, let alone in the winter.
But this is where my children’s grandmother lived. My late partner Alex (the father of my children) grew up in Blackpool. His mom, Carol, was born and raised here and is a huge fan of the place. She still lives near Blackpool Promenade where we will spend most of Christmas, although we will be staying in Alex’s cousin’s house 10 minutes down the road in Lytham St Annes – a more affluent area.
This year, since I’m estranged from my family, this seemed like the perfect place. My children, Lola, nine, Liberty, seven, and Dog Muggle, eleven, can’t wait. They loved visiting Grandma and always had a great time on our previous summer trips up north. But I could only last three days before flying back to London, and this time we were going for a week – in December.
As I soaked up the final moments of Notting Hill, they waited patiently in the car until Lola shouted: “For God’s sake, hurry up, Mum. We want to see Granny!” I took my chance and set the sat-nav to Blackpool. As we drove north we sang cheerfully to the Christmas songs playing on the radio. The conditions at the gas station get worse the further north you go, until Preston, about four and a half hours later. It was then that we saw the Blackpool icon – Lara Croft and Liberty started cheering.
To be sure, this is not the place for last-minute Christmas shopping. There are fish and chip shops and tattoo parlors on almost every corner. The Metropole Hotel, a historic Victorian landmark on the promenade that once offered seaside charm, is now closed to general visitors and used to house asylum seekers, attracting flag-waving demonstrations. Along the roughest central avenue are rows of boarded-up takeaways and squalid housing.
I’ve been here in the summer when it’s packed with tourists, but in December it was deserted as we drove through the Blackpool Illuminations, which stretch for six miles of dazzling lights, including hanging soots and mermaids. We passed the casino, arcade and a giant reflective disco ball on the waterfront. I couldn’t help but wonder what the hell I was doing here.
We felt relaxed upon arriving at the quiet tree-lined street where we would be staying. “Blackpool” is a symphony of electronic sounds, character voice clips, flashing lights and the distribution of coins from an arcade game. There were no restaurants or cafes that looked inviting, and Wetherspoon’s wasn’t on my to-do list.
But we can walk our dogs on the beach next to the Victorian St. Anne’s Pier. We dropped by the arcade, which offers traditional seaside games, coin pokies and family entertainment, a quiet contrast to nearby Blackpool, where Lara Croft and Liberty won tickets delivered through a machine and then redeemed their prizes in the toy shop.
When the girls kept losing stuffed dog toys in the claw machine, I became convinced that the claw machine was rigged and I complained to the manager who very kindly opened the machine and handed them two gifts. Children ate fish and chips at the entrance to the playground. I’m starting to look dirty.
To be sure, this is not the place for last-minute Christmas shopping. There are fish and chip shops and tattoo parlors on almost every corner
We regularly go to Booths, which is a type of Waitrose, where we walk aimlessly down the aisles just to do something “normal”. The night before Christmas we made a mad dash to Primark, the only clothing store I knew, to buy Lola a pair of festive pajamas, but it was closed when we got there. I headed to Marks & Spencer food store in Lytham St Anne’s to do all my Christmas shopping. Good news? My food shop is incredibly cheap compared to London.
Christmas was spent with family playing charades and eating mince pies, without the tension I was used to. That alone makes the trip worth the price of admission. But Lola and Liberty soon grew bored.
There wasn’t much to do on Boxing Day so we headed back to the play center on St Anne’s Quay while the kids earned money with more teddy bears. The next day we planned a big trip to the Blackpool Tower which is lit up in red at night.
It was a major tourist attraction from its opening in 1894 to 1969 and housed many wild animals, including lions, tigers and bears, in cages on the top floor. Conditions here have often been criticized, and the zoo’s closure has led to the animals being moved to new zoos.
As we stepped out of the elevator into the ballroom, I felt like I was in Oz and meeting the Wizard. A man sits with his back to the audience on a dramatic golden stage with a Renaissance backdrop and a huge pipe organ playing dancehall music. We arrived just in time for the tea dance, where white-haired couples twirled on the dance floor or drank tea at a small table nearby.
“It’s so boring, why are we here?” Liberty shouted, wanting to go back to the playground. I couldn’t help but marvel at the ornate golden ceiling, with a dove flying here and there, towards “Sweet Caroline.” The girls’ aunt offered them a £10 bribe to dance with me, which Lola reluctantly accepted – and we danced cha cha on the floor. It’s time to go! Across the road is Blackpool’s Tower Festival Headland, which has been transformed into a winter wonderland with open-air rides, but I managed to lure the kids back home.
On the fourth day the girls’ grandmother dragged us from the arcade to Blackpool North Pier to witness the murmur of starlings. At dawn and dusk, large flocks of birds dance in the air before settling under the pier. It’s truly breathtaking as the sun forms a giant orange sphere over the Irish Sea. The only thing I miss is studying at the beach with Romany Gypsy Petulungro. She has been accurate for me in the past, but this year I went overboard with channeling and didn’t want to mix things up.
We were lucky enough to have great weather; just blue skies. There is no place more depressing than Blackpool on a rainy day. It’s a hard place to survive – and not just at Christmas. It is currently undergoing a major £300m regeneration project led by Blackpool Council, which will take several years to complete. A £90m housing investment scheme approved last year will transform Blackpool’s run-down inner city.
We are just visitors but have family ties. This meant we spent Christmas embracing Blackpool for what it is – a decaying and unique seaside resort. Even though there was no acai bowl, it was much better than I expected. Thanks to Lancashire’s wild coastline and of course the arcades, we came back feeling surprisingly refreshed rather than depressed.
But the best part? Have a great time with your family at Christmas without any arguments.