Not a place where I've ever lived, or spent much time; but my parents grew up not far away, and knew it well. Birkenhead, north-west England; just the other side of the River Mersey estuary, from its better-known, more stylish, glamorous, and dashing "twin", Liverpool. Ever since the cities came into being, Birkenhead has suffered from a massive inferiority complex vis-a-vis Liverpool (for a very long time, the two were even in different counties). Liverpool folk often took every opportunity to sneer at their smaller, duller, less cultured neighbour just across the water; they gave it the name of "The One-Eyed City".
Thanks to this situation, Birkenhead has long been notorious for harbouring a lot of bitter, touchy inhabitants -- it's not a place with obviously benign "vibes". In decades gone by, the Empire Music Hall, Birkenhead, was regarded with dread by novice comedians: the audiences were notoriously hard to please, and inclined to make very clear, their displeasure with a comic whom they did not find funny; often, by throwing things. Birkenhead has its moments; but it's not a big feature of the British tourist circuit.