Peterborough itself is both urban and rural – but it is not a single place. For people who have made the city, literally built it or made money through investment in it; who have slept out on its streets, lived in its Travellers’ sites, rented for a time in a crowded house, found solace or shelter by the Nene, attended its churches, mosques, temples or gurdwaras, experienced the pain and ecstasy of its football club, worked in its factories, brought up its children or cared for its sick and elderly… For people who have done any of these and other things, the city can and often does mean different things, reflect diverse experiences.

Saturday afternoons were painful because my mother would often go into town especially if one of her sisters came, they’d go into town shopping and my dad would just sit glued to the radio and you had to be quiet when the football was on.