DAY4

Thursday, May 26^th 2016                                                       

Southend to Lowestoft                                                                         Miles 218

Today I was joined by my good friend Jim.  He has taken over the navigation, having brought with him all of the Ordnance Survey maps for the trip over the next few days.  I have not given up on my female companion (in the GPS) but I am able to have more of a conversation with Jim.  Indeed we have spent so much time reminiscing and catching up that we missed a few turns!

I woke up this morning in “Sarf fend” (as the natives call it) to bright sunshine and this remained with us throughout the day.  It was made even sunnier later when Jim told me that he heard on the weather report that this region of the UK was the only place that would be sunny to day.  I must be truly righteous after all! 

I was not due to meet Jim until 12.44pm at Clacton-On-Sea, 50 miles away, so I had plenty of time to review more of Southend and places in-between.  I was last in Southend aged 11 years old, when I was taken as a day treat from London by a much older (20+ years) cousin.  We traveled out of London on the train and the return was on a boat to Tower Bridge.  I remember going to the fun fair, which is still there on the beach. However, the only other thing I remember is the journey back on the boat and throwing bottles into the water.  Unfortunately one of the ship’s crew took hold of me by the scruff of the neck and marched me up to the Captain.  The Captain was more understanding of the actions of an 11 year old, especially when he saw me crying and shaking.  He said don’t do it again and let me go.  I never told my cousin, but she could not understand why I was so quiet for the rest of the journey.

Southend has the world’s longest pier at 1 ¼  miles.  They had to build it this long to allow holiday makers to at least see the sea.  The tide goes out a very long way and this morning was no exception.  I stopped to take a photo and a young woman in another car did the same.  “It’s so unbelieveable this place you just have to take a picture don’t you” she said.  The mud is not all bad.  There was a man with a rake, spade and bucket, close to the pier, digging for lug worms as fishing bait.  No doubt they would be shriveled up by the time the tide came back in and he was able to fish. 

 Southend Pier from Shoebury

A Southend Lug Wormer

Close to the Pier I saw something called a “Genting Club”.  Now I know that Americans make up words all the time, but I had not come across this word in England.  I tried to imagine what such a club would be for.  It said Casino and entertainment, but I imagined that the emphasis more on the entertaining rather than the casino.  I did not see a “Ladying Club”, but I dare say that in the name of equality and fair play there must be one in Southend, probably just a bit further down the road I expect.

Going eastward along the esplanade you run into Shoebury and Shoeburyness.  This is the posh end of town, just the sort of place that you would expect to find a Ladying Club (but I still did not see one).  This is also where the Beach Huts start.  The other posh area is West Cliff.  I did not actually explore this, so perhaps the Ladying Club is located there.   If Sarf fend were by the Mediterranean rather than the Thames Estuary it would be a mecca for all gentlemen and ladies.

I then had to travel back inland quite aways to get around the River Crouch and down to Burnham-On-Crouch.  This is known to have quite an up market sailing club.  I met two members from here once and they told me that it was up market and very select, so it has to be true. 

I had stopped briefly in South Woodham Ferrers to buy some fresh milk for a cup of tea.  As I paid I asked the cashier “is there a toilet in the store”.  She answered quickly, “Yes, just behind the next aisle, up against the wall!”  “Isn’t that a bit too public and will I be arrested if I use it”.  This brought a hail of laughter from everyone else in the line-up.  But she was unphased and said “If you go behind the next aisle you will see door in the wall, you can’t miss it.”  Rather than allow her to say even more, I thanked her and went behind the next aisle and sure enough there was a door in the wall, which said, toilet.  But to add to the irony the products for sale on the shelf right by the door were babies and adults diapers.  Obviously they encouraged people to purchase these before the door was built!

In the car park of Burnham Yacht Club I brewed a cup of tea – in a teapot of course.  I purchased a butane stove and kettle before I left Devon just so that I would not miss out on a good cuppa.  I bought the stove just over a week ago in Budleigh Salterton in a camping shop that was having a sale.  I got it for £14.99, 50% off the list price.  I was chuffed with this, but they were out of the butane canisters.  Two days later I purchased some canisters at Darts Farm Shop in Topsham, which has a camping section.  After buying them a man came up to me and said he had just purchased a stove and what did I think of them.  I said they were brilliant and he would find them really handy.  I then made the mistake of asking him how much he paid for his.  “Oh, £12, the regular price”!  This quite spoiled my weekend!

Anyway back to my cuppa.  My kettle on the stove boiled quickly, but as I was pouring it a workman with a blower came along. He began blowing the grass cuttings that he and his colleagues must have just mown.  He then decided to blow off his clothes the grass that had stuck to them, so he turned the blower on himself.  He and his mates clearly thought this was a good idea so they turned the blower on each other.  What they did not appreciate was that though the blower blew away the grass, the dusty gravel and mud of the car park was also getting blown and it made a huge dust cloud that enveloped them.  I only just got back into the car with my cup before it passed over me as well.

After my tea I set off to meet Jim in Clacton, which again meant a big inland journey to go around the river Blackwater.  At its head is the town of Maldon.  Here I was amazed to find as I drove over the bridge, lying on the mud banks, three old Thames barges that looked in good order.  These were once prolific on the Thames and carried many different goods, both on the river and along the coast.  Years ago the boatmen used to have races with them.  Few now remain, but these no doubt are some enthusiasts pride and joy.  After leaving Maldon I had to drive to Colchester in order to get around further estuaries and get to the Clacton road.  I came off the main highway and drove a narrow B road as this was closest to the ocean.  I am so glad I did as, suddenly a I came around a bend, I saw a field of bright blue stretching into the distance.  This was flax, which in ancient times was used to make cloth.  I don’t know what they use it for now, but it certainly lights up the countryside.  I pulled off onto a narrow track to take a picture and had just done so when of course the local farmer and his tractor decided they wanted to drive down the track as well.  With many apologies I reversed back onto the road, but I got the photo I wanted.

I got to Clacton in good time so drove along the front to Jaywick, a very odd place where the roads were crowded with people driving rather thin motorized mobility chairs with plastic covers.  I expect that the elderly death rate in Jaywick is quite high, as they seemed oblivious of the traffic or of any rules of the road.  I was told later that Jaywick tops the list of the most of the most socially deprived neighbourhoods in the country.  I therefore assume that the residents being unable to afford a car have been able to persuade a doctor that they have some form of disability and thus qualify for one of these mobility chairs.

Jim’s train arrived spot on time and it was good to meet him again.  We quickly toured Clacton; sunny and charming.  The residents here can look out and see a forest of wind turbines about a mile out to sea.  There must have been fifty of them, but despite being a breezy day, not one of them was turning.  Why would someone go to the huge expense of building a wind turbine farm if they were not going to turn them on?  Perhaps they already had enough electricity for the day.

Jim advised me that where he lives in Norfolk the local folks spend hours looking at the wind turbines.  They have to stand so that two or three are in alignment and then they wait and wait and wait for that one moment when all of the blades are in perfect symmetry, for just that one split moment.  Apparently it makes them feel that their lives are worthwhile and is the big thing to do in Norfolk!

One thing that I did not see in Clacton was beach huts (maybe they were hiding them).  Continue along to Frinton-on-Sea and Walton-on-the-Naze and they return in droves.  Both these places were exceptionally clean and inviting, apart from the rather ghastly looking, but obligatory, pier at Walton-on-the Naze.

We traveled by narrow roads around Pennyhole Bay to Harwich, a major ferry port to Holland.  Quite a small town for such a large ferry jumping off point.  From Harwich the journey is back in-land again to cross the River Stour. We crossed the river at the pretty town of Mistley, but as Jim had his maps he identified a Tattingstone as a suitable place to take afternoon tea and eat the large tea cake he had purchased in Walton-on-the-Naze.  We stopped by a lake and brewed fresh tea and shared our over-large tea cake with a friendly Muscovy duck. 

Jim and his friend the duck

We had to go to Felixstowe as it would be a “hole” in the coastal journey to miss it.  This then meant a 7 mile journey down the opposite bank of the River Stour and back up again afterwards.  Felixstowe is Britain’s largest container port and reminded me of Vancouver and the container ships we see from our house.  Felixstowe is less then a mile across the river mouth from Harwich and there is a ferry, but not one that takes cars, so we had to take a drive of 35 miles just to get 1 mile as the crow flies.

Felixstowe is in the ancient and beautiful county of Suffolk and certainly the rest of our drive was through amazing countryside with picture book villages.  As I have mentioned before, although we are driving the road closest to the ocean, it does not necessarily mean that you can always see the sea.  But we did appreciate the country-side and all of the blossom and hedgerow flowers.  It really did make me feel that I was in England.

From Felixstowe we drove around Woodbridge.  Unfortunately it was now 5.00pm and we were not able to go to Sutton Hoo, the site of a Saxon burial.  Here the king, or at least person of high status, had been buried with his longship.  The grave site gave up lots of jewels and a fantastic helmet, which is now in the British Museum and I saw it there just two weeks ago.

We briefly stopped at the Snape Maltings, made famous by the composer Benjamin Britten and now an arts and concert venue.  Snape is close to Aldeburgh also majestic and with a timeless quality.  Driving out of the town we discovered Thorpeness.  This was an absolutely charming little village with a large Mere around which lovely homes were spaced.

Me at the Maltings

Inland again and then back to the coast at Dunwich, where we had dinner in the local Inn.  Dunwich was once one of the largest ports in England with a residency of over 4000 people.  Unfortunately in the 13^th century the whole town and port was overwhelmed by the sea and now nothing remains but a small village of only a hundred souls.  It is said that on certain low tides, at night, you can hear the old church bells ringing under the ocean.

More beach huts - at Southwold

Having eaten well and feeling tired we then drove through the equally charming town of Southwold and on to our hotel for our overnight stay in Lowestoft, which we will explore in the morning.