Because it’s cheap. Or at least, cheaper than the shiny NCP ones. When you’re in Nottingham for a night out or a quick shop, that lower price whispers sweet nothings in your ear. “Come on,” it says, “I only cost a fiver for four hours.”
And the location is unbeatable. You’re right on Upper Parliament Street, steps from the Victoria Centre and all the tram stops. It’s the closest you’ll get to a parking space that doesn’t require a mortgage. Location, location, location—even if the location smells faintly of petrol and regret.
But let’s be real: the spaces are tight. Like, “hold your breath and hope your side mirrors survive” tight. If you drive a big SUV, you’re basically playing Tetris with your own car. I once saw a Mini Cooper park there with room to spare, and I cheered.
The People-Watching Potential
This car park is a theatre of human dramas. You’ll see someone trying to reverse into a spot for five minutes, then give up and just abandon their car at an angle. You’ll see a family unloading a massive IKEA flat-pack, swearing gently in the fluorescent light.
Parking near Crowne Plaza Nottingham from £5
Then there’s the anxiety of the lift. The lifts are old, slow, and smell like a mix of floor cleaner and hopelessness. Every ride feels like a gamble: Will I get stuck? Will the doors open onto a concrete wall? It’s the mystery you never asked for.
And the stairs? Oh, the stairs. They’re like a spiral into a video game dungeon. Graffiti-covered, echoey, and lit by a single flickering bulb. I’m convinced they lead to a secret level of Nottingham where lost socks go to retire.
