Nottingham city centre at 9pm on a Saturday night would typically be alive with thousands of people, with pulsating music from clubs and bars while neon lights danced around them. But now the silence of the city is sobering. Reporter Joseph Locker filmed his experience during his daily walk.
On March 23, the Government imposed a strict lockdown amid the worsening coronavirus pandemic.
Ever since, our pubs, bars, clubs, cinemas, theatres, shops and restaurants - arguably the establishments that bring our city to life and give it its vibrant character - have been closed.
Beginning in Lister Gate, near the intu Broadmarsh shopping centre, the shops lie dormant.
Making your way up Low Pavement towards Fletcher Gate, home to hugely popular bars and pubs such as The Cross Keys and Das Kino, the only sound you can truly hear is your own breathing and the rustle of trees in a cool breeze.
Trams still run every 15 minutes, but they snake past you with an imposing screeching that pierces the silence.
In Old Market Square, time stands still.
The only sight that brings you back from the surreal into the real is the slow movement of the clock on the council house and the sound of whispers from a group of rough sleepers a doorway near MOD Pizza.
Kings Walk almost feels like a tunnel, due to the sheer darkness and the echoing from your own footsteps.
Forman Street is usually bustling with hundreds of people eating, drinking and laughing in the forecourts outside Antalya, Bella Italia and the Little Langtry's.
Trundling back down Market Street towards Old Market Square once again, the only sounds come from the rumbling of the trams and the rushing of the fountain.
Friar Lane offers a now familiar sight as Bierkeller, Cafe Sobar and other buildings stand hollow. Your mind frantically attempts to fill the emptiness with memories of months past.
Back in February, Nottingham was hit by some of the worst traffic congestion in the world as the A52 Clifton Bridge was closed for extensive repair works.
Maid Marian Way was stacked with vehicles for hours into the late evening throughout the month, commuters growing ever more frustrated as they attempted to get home.
But now that seems a distant memory as Maid Marian Way sits empty.
Finishing by Nottingham Castle and the Robin Hood Statue, the low hum of drum and bass emanating from the window of a flat, the only real way to describe the experience is that it is haunting, in some.
But it offers some hope, as the people of Nottingham are evidently playing their part in staying at home, at least on what was previously one of the busiest nights of the week, to help stop this terrible virus in its tracks.
