I worked out of Bedminster for a short while – aside from getting hooked on sausage rolls made from mechanically-separated meat (I was young and stupid), I struggle to think of an equivalent hell-hole.
The thing that sticks out in my mind about that place is the day that on a lunch break (probably buying sausage rolls), I spotted a lad break away from his mother unnoticed and run straight into the road. I (heroically, natch) ran and grabbed him from in front of the braking bus (was never going to hit him but it was a scary sight) and returned him to his Mum, who was now aware of what had happened, saying something like “I think this chap is yours”.
“Get your hands of my f***ing kid”.
A bit stunned, I told the story to a lady at the office I was at there, afterwards.
“What do you want, a f***ing medal?”
I moved on shortly afterwards. Great sausage rolls though – 3 for £1 at the time.