Kingston upon Hull (to name its official title) was recognised as the UK city of culture from 2017 until the next city succeeded in 2021. By 2025 Hull is still successfully on its path of resurrection having been named one of the top 25 global destinations to visit in 2026, by the internationally printed periodical, National Geographic, but why would you visit Hull.
Hull is a great place to visit and walk around and to hear music and local contemporary poets. It also has a history unrivalled by many other major British cities and centred for many years around maritime trades and "Hessle Road" ('esl road): the West Hull centre of employment, commerce and social life of families involved with the fishing industry; very rich to very poor, many suffered greatly in the Icelandic Cod War of the 70's and for centuries whenever boats were lost, the Gaul being the most famous and enigmatic. The works of Hull born photographer Alec Gill recorded much of this from the sixties to the present day, but his work is copyrighted and I may not show it. (Search Alec Gill Hull photographer)
Hull is weird place, always rated poorly in the national press but loved by people and visitors alike (many of whom stay to work) and has many questions asked of it by "outsiders".
Since 1299 the title of this city is actually Kingston Upon Hull (the King's town upon the river Hull) and though it has been blighted by poor politics and lousy national press over the years, it is actually a great friendly place to live, with an interesting history, especially the rejection of King Charles 1st's entry into the city; an act by Sir John Hotham that precipitated the English Civil War (and the later death of Hotham). To this day fools are not suffered lightly as there is still a bit of small town clannishness.
N.B. Some words (in the poems below) have mostly local use only:
Larkin = Larking around or Phillip Larkin, the ex poet laureate.
Tigers = Hull City football club. (Whole city)
Robins = Hull Kingston Rovers rugby league team (East Hull)
Airlie Birds = Hull FC rugby league team (West Hull) after street address (Airlie St.) of old stadium.
Quakers = As in the Quakers of quasi religious and benevolent fame (see pictures below).
Whitefriars / Blackfriars = Religious orders whose locations gave Hull street names.
Land Of Green Ginger = A small street in Hull (See web details)
Reckitts / Ferens / Needlers / Rosedowns = A few of many famous families / companies from Hull.
Frys = A famous Bristol based chocolatier Quaker family who inspired the Reckitts of Hull.
Mucky Buckies = Children of Buckingham Street.
Montrose's = The gang in Montrose street.
Farreey = Vast and semi-derelict railway land storing timber, gangs and girls.
Johnny Greensides = His mum was my first crush.
Mitchell Brothers = Of the Mitchell family, the hardest we knew, into bikes and removals.
Anyway, here are poems I wrote specifically about Hull, along with some pictures.
HULL
Hull is not a rat-race.Hull is a nice place.
Hull is not chav-town
Hull has thrice a crown:
a king’s town.
Kingston Upon Hull;
Larkin land,
full or Tigers, Robins and Airlie birds,
and parks and memories of Quakers as great as the Frys,
not the Whitefriars
nor the rare Blackfriars
nor those of the Land Of Green Ginger,
but Reckitts and Ferens,
Needlers and Sizers
bobbers and jobbers
dockers and packers
trawlermen and lightermen,
independent spirits one and all.
Hull is a king's town.
Let no-one put us down!
THIS IS 'ULL
The firm leatherette feel of well rolled tarmacand it’s once warmed smell,
and the blackened knees and hands
of interaction
are familiar prints in my galleried mind.
A grey playmate;
a giver of second-hand chewy
and ciggie ends,
uniquely flavoured
but eagerly sought for secondary use
or swops.
Our street,
our Hull street
was our street,
not for Courtney street's gang,
not Mucky Buckies
nor Montrose's
it was our Upton Street,
a dead end street
of clean houses
of clean people
in clean beds
and mucky, happy kids.
Hull was a small place
till I was 11 but I never knew it,
our world was our street,
our wood yard at the dead end
our "farreey" across the drain
where trains and girls could be explored
in equal measure,
ducking down in the long grass
if anyone came.
I didn't know that I lived in a city called Hull,
but I knew my friends,
their parents and Johnny Greensides
who owned the only car.
and the original Mitchell brothers
on their rocker bikes,
hero’s in leather and white scarves.
I was happy in Hull.
I am again happy in Hull.
Even the immigrants are happy in Hull
’cos we are Hull,
we are Kingston Upon Hull
and proud,
proud to know most people;
southerners and media,
even Yorkshire folk
don't really know us well,
'cos 'ull is our secret,
a hoard of decent friends.
