That's one reason why I go the other way. I don't even like going within 100 meters of the Kingdumb Hell.
Not so much because of being physically allergic to it. But, all it would take is to get within around 100 meters of the Kingdumb Hell and some hounders on their way to the Kingdumb Hell, or the dingbat that dragged me into the cancer, to insist that I need a lift to the Kingdumb Hell. That, even though it is only around 100 meters and I could walk or pedal there if I so chose. Then, once I get on the grounds, there would be no leaving until after the boasting session (and I know I couldn't handle the "new and improved" Kingdumb maladies). As it is, I am still having occasional dreams about still relapsing and attending boasting sessions--as if quitting was as difficult as to quit smoking or drinking.
Now, if only silver were to surge in price to around 900 billion toilet papers an ounce, I would then have the freedom to move somewhere halfway around the world where the hounders do not know me, and going within 100 meters of the Kingdumb Hell wouldn't mean risking a hounder or pio-sneer (or group of them) escorting me to the boasting session and making sure I stay through.