There's a street, well it's a more a narrow lane, near the old town called the Land of Green Ginger. No-one knows why it has this odd name and it really is a bit of a disappointment having mainly law offices , coffee bars and very little of any interest apart from a pub which claims to have the smallest window in England. This is little more than a slit between two bricks and in more enlightened times would be called a con.
Winifred Holtby (who she?) wrote a book called Land of Green Ginger.
Alan Plater, who died last week, wrote a TV play called Land of Green Ginger, one of those gritty "realism" jobs that they always go on about when talking about how good TV was when there were only three channels and you had to get up to change them....Actually this is unfair to Mr Plater, who I once met in the old Hull Truck Theatre, smoking a ciggy and propping up the bar: he did boring so well it was almost an art form, non-events became the focus of his world, with complete fantasies woven into this mundane non-happening. Usually the lack of plot was jollied along with some fine old jazz tunes. I think old Plater was one of the good guys and will be sadly missed.
Wikipedia's article on L of GG recommends that you see also Green Ginger wine; now this I can wholeheartedly agree with; top it up with some whisky, et voilà , instant cure for all that may ail you. Cheers!