It's all reminded me, actually, that my brother had a long-term relationship with a working-class, extremely socialist girl from Doncaster.
She broke up with him in the most unpleasant way, and all her (similarly-backgrounded) friends, who had been jointly friends with him too, cut him out of their lives, leaving him quite friendless, lonely, and very depressed for months in his 20s.
By your reckoning I should be saying that I hate Doncaster and everyone in it, they're a bunch of socialist working-class wankers who spend money on flat caps and dog racing and warm pints. That I never want to go there and not a single person who lives there is worth crossing the road to piss on if they were on fire.
I, er, don't think this.
This despite the fact I've never actually met anyone else from Doncaster to prove otherwise.
I just assume some of them are lovely, some dreadful, most just fine.
If your point was to make a wider point about the house pricing crisis in London (which I don't think it was, I think you've just sort of segued that way because your initial posts about your brother's health and the vile Londoners in general who had caused it were quite rightly argued down), then that't a different matter. House prices are nuts. True. I don't think it's the same issue as the one your first raised, though.