Nottingham is surprisingly chavvy.
Walking through some of the streets
I'm reminded of the 102 bus stop in the Perth CBD: scary looking teen mums with piercings, tattoos, and a delicious looking ciggy hanging from the corner of their mouths. Shouting profanities at their own children and at passers-by.

Luckily, they don't spend their time near the castle, which was the primary reason for my being here. It's enormous, with lovely grounds and a vast museum.
It's sweltering here, too. Only forecasted to be 18 degrees, I can feel myself burning.
Pleasant, but unexpected.