sunny Sarfend

One good thing about the Shabby Seaside Appreciation Society us that it gives me a good excuse to finally get around to visiting loads of places I've been meaning to see for ages. A couple of weekends ago, I jumped on a train to Southend on a gloriously sunny day and had a lovely time. Even the signage and building decoration seemed intent on reminding us that the sun was shining.

It was too hot for a full meal of fish and chips, and most of the places weren't very cheap (not as cheap as Margate or Hastings anyway), but we did get chips from Bailey's Fry Inn, which has fantastic vintage 1970s signage.

After that we went and had tea at The London Restaurant, because the pretty red-and-green awning had caught my eye from down the road. It's a very old-fashioned cafe/restaurant, which looks like it hasn't changed since the late 1960s. They were even showing Thunderbirds when we walked in (then they switched to the racing).

The funny thing about this place is that I later found out from my mum that her aunt (who I never met) worked there, probably some time in the 1950s or 1960s! Maybe it even had the same decor back then…

Gorgeous blue skies and blazing sunshine called for ice cream, and Southend just happens to have its own chain, Rossi's, who've been serving ice cream to the holiday-makers of Essex since the 1930s.

We had ours on the pier, after a loooong walk from the shore — Southend Pier is the longest pleasure pier in the world; over 2km (almost a mile and a half). That meant there was about three miles of bunting (on both sides), made from actual fabric remnants rather than the expected scraps of plastic. It's the the longest line of bunting in the world!

If you don't fancy the walk, there's a train track, with a couple of cute trains, as well.

The pier is so ridiculously long because there's a massive sandbar which means that the tide never gets very high even when it's full. In fact, even over a mile out there are spots under the pier without water when the tide is low. All the same, you wouldn't want to walk around under there, because there's no sand or pebbles; the ground is thick with crusty barnacles instead, and a few squishy starfish that got left behind.

The tide being so low so far out leaves you with the somewhat surreal sight of people standing slap in the middle of the Thames estuary with the water barely coming up to their waists, as you can see in this handily annotated picture I took from the pier:

We actually watched those three people in the middle walk up the end of the pier. It was surprisingly dramatic, as a lifeboat came racing around the end of the pier, and a security guard dashed past us to intercept them as they climbed up. You can see the lifeboat and the trio in the distance here:

We got a bit worried, as we noticed one of them needed to be carried up the slope. It turned out she'd had been stung by a jellyfish just as they'd reached the pier (we'd spotted some in the water ourselves). She was okay, though, as we found out on the train back to shore, because they sat next to us. They were three teenagers who'd made the walk on a dare, and it had taken them a couple of hours. Security felt sorry for them and let them catch the train back for free!

The little old-fashioned train reminded me of the train journey in Spirited Away, and it was quite fun. It was interesting to see the difference in the tide from when we went out and when we came back:

Our evening ended up in a quiet little beer garden of what turned out to be "Southend's premier gay bar" where we had a great time bonding with the landlord on the subjects of good gin, Batman comics and gloriously rude innuendo. Pity about the limited selection of beer (only extra cold stuff, and no ales), but it was a much more cheerful and friendly than the enormous and depressing Wetherspoons pub across the road.

I was almost sad to leave Southend so soon, but got back to London in time to watch Catherine mess around on a couple of street pianos at Fenchurch Street and the Royal Exchange before they all disappeared the following morning. There's something wonderfully, magically strange about watching someone play a piano at midnight, in the middle of the street, as red double-deckers drive past you and the Bank of England. I was almost expecting passersby to break into song and dance at any moment, but all they did was break into applause. Still a lovely end to a lovely day, though.

More pics here.