Grimsby is the largest town in North East Lincolnshire thanks to fish. It became an important fishing port in the 12th century, lost favour in the 15th century when its harbour silted up then burst back to life in the mid 19th century with the coming of the railways. By the 1950s it was the largest fishing port in Britain, maybe the world, before fishing quotas brought the industry crashing down. Today Grimsby specialises in food processing instead, mainly of fish caught elsewhere. I fully intend to describe it without using the obvious adjective. [map][19 photos][Visit Grimsby]
»» The town centre
This is not somewhere to come touristing, although that's not to say there's nothing to see. There's the big medieval church near the station, for a start, which is Grimsby Minster (although it only gained minster status ten years ago so isn't as important as it sounds). The town hall is an imposing Victorian building in Italianate palazzo style, but sadly the Time Trap attraction in the former police cells won't be reopening before March so you won't be getting in there. Which basically leaves shopping.
Victoria Street is the main shopping street, which paired with the cheerless Freshney Place mall gifts Grimsby sufficient stores to satisfy the extensive hinterland of north Lincolnshire. House of Fraser alas closed its doors for the last time last month, but M&S hasn't given up yet and is about as highbrow as Grimsby gets. My favourite shop was Magazine World, an unashamed newsagent throwback whose window display consisted of shelves of top sporting and household titles (plus a row of Beano and Dandy summer specials at child's eye height). The longest queue, by far, was for Uniform Direct where a horseshoe of glum mums and bored children awaited fittings for the new school year. The Top Town indoor market was rather emptier, an austere grid of part-occupied stalls serving up meat, veg and (of course) fish.
»» The Haven
Grimsby's silted-up harbour was reworked at the turn of the 19th century to create a large rectangular basin for efficient unloading. It now forms a water feature nudging into the heart of town, but overlooked by copious retail parks rather than anything residential. The Grimsby Fishing Heritage Centre opened on the west quay in 1991, telling the story of the national fishing fleet... which I fear means a lot of nets and sou'westers. Its galleries reopened to the public on Tuesday but the faff of pre-booking at a specific time meant I had to give the place a miss. At least tours of the classic side-trawler moored outside, the Ross Tiger, haven't yet restarted so technically I didn't miss that.
The most impressivestructures hereabouts, genuinely so, are the Corporation Bridge and the Victoria Flour Mill. The former is a single-leaf rolling lift bascule bridge installed in 1925, i.e all the traffic stops and one end tips up. An act of Parliament requires the bridge to retain its lifting capacity despite no boat having sailed into the Alexandra Dock this century, forcing the council to set aside £5m for recent repairs. As for the mill, its seven storey redbrick grain silo looks gorgeous but is merely a shell around a central void, hence somewhatunstable. The council are trying to keep it standing while seeking a future use, but can't turn it into flats because the residents would have no windows. Heritage is sometimes a headache.
»» The docks
In the 19th and early 20th centuries Grimsby's docks spread along the waterfront and out into the estuary, to the extent that the average Grimbarian never sees the Humber. What they can see is the 300 foot Grimsby Dock Tower, a supremely elegant Italianate spike which contains the hydraulics powering the lock gates to the tidal basin. The tower's a long way distant, hence off limits, but it's perfectly possible to wander into the nearer reaches of the docks for a fishy eyeful. The railway bridge on Humber Street provides a great vantage point, as well as being the quickest access for workers walking to and from the Young'sfactory on Ross Road.
From up here you can see brightly paintedsheds, lost-looking buildings that were once part of something larger, vast expanses of hardstanding where nothing much happens any more and even the odd trawler. I identified one from Norway, one from Iceland and one from Whitby. These days Grimsby processes more fish than it catches, so the adjacent streets are packed with refrigerated warehouses belonging to numerous independent companies, one of whom might be breadcrumbing your next supermarket purchase. Walking back off the bridge I was blasted by the smell of fishfingers from a ventilation unit, which was life-affirming.
»» The request stop
The railway hugs the coast on the brief journey between Grimsby and Cleethorpes but is only single track, which doesn't aid a good service. Neither does the fact that most of the trains arriving at Cleethorpes have come all the way from Manchester Piccadilly so have a habit of being delayed (mine was ten minutes late due to issues in the Peak District). New Clee station is a single-platformed halt in view of the docks, adjacent to the Flatfish sushi factory and an Aldi car park, potentially serving backstreets on the northern edge of town. But it's only served by stoppers on the Humberlinc line, and then only every two hours, and then only as a request stop, which'll be how it manages to attract fewer than 500 passengers a year. I got lucky and happened to be present when a train actually stopped, but it was going the wrong way so never mind.
»» The football ground
Continuing along the coast we find Blundell Park, the home of Grimsby TownFootball Club, embedded amid a grid of Victorian streets. It's been here since 1899, and its main wooden stand since 1901, so it's not the best appointed of League clubs. The Young's Stand (formerly the Findus Stand) looks considerably more alluring, however, its top tier seats offering panoramic views of the Humber estuary if play on the pitch fails to excite. The club chairman has high hopes of building a new stadium closer to town in East Marsh, one of Britain's most deprived neighbourhoods, but a succession of previous relocation plans have hit the rocks and this looks like another failed dream.
I turned up just after a team practice which meant the gates were open, offering a rare glimpse of the pitch. A couple of players walked out resplendent in their Young's-sponsored kit and unlocked cars rather swisher than most folk have around here. Blundell Avenue, the neighbouring street after which the ground is named, offers an unbroken line of terraced pebbledash with questionable brown splodges on the pavement. Close by is a footbridge over the railway line... which is where I left you in the last paragraph of yesterday's post because Blundell Park is technically in Cleethorpes. Best not mention that when the new season kicks off next Saturday.
