Sarfend on Sea, as those speaking in an estuary dialect might say it, draws in huge crowds on a sunny weekend.
Quite what the attraction is, is hard to establish.
Of course it is the only real stretch of beach to the east of London. Jaywick and Clacton, further north along the Essex coast, are too far away for Londoners.
And Kent beaches too, such as Margate or Whitstable, are also out of reach.
And so it's Southend on Sea which is very much a Hobson's choice when it comes to a day by the coast.
Beaches on the southern coast of England are much nicer, but again, not so good for a day trip.
But there is really very little to inspire at this estuary 'resort'. The beaches are stoney and the tide always seems to be out, thus a swim is very often out of the question.
But who would want to swim here anyway. Recent media reports have singled out Southend on Sea as being one of many beaches around the country to be affected by sewage outflows.
Indeed it's not so much Southend on Mud, as it is often colloquially referred to, than Southend on Sewage.
But maybe one just came to relax on the beach, tuck into some fish 'n' chips, and enjoy an ice cream.
Well, be prepared to take out a mortgage, as Southend is certainly not cheap.
Getting there will cost a pretty penny, be it by train or car. Train fares from the outskirts of London are around £10 for adults and a little less for kids, so a family of four could be looking at at least £30 or more before stepping onto the promenade.
Driving is a little cheaper in terms of fuel but parking could set you back more than £16 for the day.
So you're finally parked or out of the station and heading to the beach. It's not long before there are demands for food. Fish and chips sell for around a tenner at most outlets, but could cost considerably more. This day out is already getting a little expensive. One could easily be sixty quid down by now and the tide is still out.
"I want an ice cream mummy," your child demands. Before long you've spent another twenty pounds to satisfy their desires and before long a few more pounds are shed to quench their thirst with cans of fizzy pop.
Despite being a stoney beach sand still manages to get everywhere. But finally the sea is in and of course the kids want to swim.
That means someone having to keep guard. Hey, this is Southend. While not downtown Harlem or the Bronx, it's probably not a good idea to leave your handbag stuffed with wallet, mobile phone and keys just sitting on your towel while you all head into the water. Coming back to an empty towel would certainly make an already expensive day an absolute disaster.
But surely there's some redeeming qualities. Well, none that I've encountered.
Having visited primarily to get weather pictures for national papers I have encountered mostly stupidity and rudeness.
Soon after arriving on a recent assignment it all started off pleasantly enough. "Morning," said a passing traffic enforcement officer, happy perhaps that he'd just slapped out two parking fines at only 9 am.
A black jogger ran by on the promenade and proclaimed, "Yo". Why? This wasn't rural France where it's not uncommon for every passerby to greet you with 'bonjour'.
It is in fact the weird magnetic attraction resulting in being festooned with cameras.
Should I have been walking along without such kit it is unlikely the jogger would have said anything at all.
It's not long before you attract the drunks. "Don't tell me, you're 'omeless," a man says as I pass near to the Queen Victoria statue. Clearly already inebriated as he clasped his can of lager, he continued with his vain request that I take a picture of him . "Take a picture of me an' me sister mate." I politely decline and continue.
Then there's the curious and inane. "Are you waiting for anyone famous to turn up my love?" says one woman walking her dog, whilst another young teenage girl asks, "Taken lots of pictures?"
"That's a big one you've got there!" a traffic enforcement officer says pointing at the long lens. Indeed, that's probably the most oft repeated comment. "Wow, can you see the moon with that?" "What are you photographing, Mars?"
And so perhaps it wasn't unusual for several people to make such comments on this occasion. "That's a big one. How far can you see with that?" exclaimed a shirtless lad with wings tattooed across his back. "Can you see the curvature of the Earth?" Puzzled, but willing to oblige his insatiable curiosity, I snapped a picture of the horizon and showed him. "Ah see," he said, apparently vindicated, "No curve. It's flat. Flat Earth!"
Oh my god! They really are out there. Anti-Vaxxers, COVID deniers and flat-earthers. The world truly has gone mad. But at least he was friendly enough, unlike some people one occasionally encounters on the seafront. Snapping a general view of the crowded beach some months back I was harassed by a shirtless black guy holding a packet of chocolate biscuits who threatened to throw them at me should I continue to take pictures, despite not actually taking any pictures of him.
Southend is a draw for all sorts and reflects both ends of the evolutionary spectrum as well as the best and worst of fashion and health.
There are shirtless lager louts, often tattooed from head to foot. The smell of skunk, the slang term for overly powerful marijuana, hangs heavy in the air and youths sit on the promenade puffing away without a care, seemingly oblivious of the police patrols seen walking the length of the beach. But perhaps it should be the fashion police on patrol. It seems apparent that people either don't possess a mirror or are completely oblivious of both body image and dress sense.
Of course, one doesn't expect daytrippers to the beach to turn up in an Armani suit. But it is clear the Brits have no fashion sense at all. Perhaps the worst examples are overweight women wearing skintight leggings, leaving very little to the imagination, revealing strong panty lines and camel-toes! Oh please. Do these people have no shame? And then there are the men in their 40s and 50s proudly sporting beer bellies like large medicine balls hanging over their cheap Primark shorts. OK, some people find losing weight difficult. But why not wear something more flattering rather than clothes that show every ripple of fat and bulge.
If anyone was in any doubt as to how unhealthy the British population is, a trip to Southend will quickly establish the facts. Mobility scooters are everywhere. Obese and overweight men and women fill the beaches and stagger along the promenades. And people can be seen munching on fish and chips, candy floss and downing ice creams everywhere one looks.
There are a few fit people but they are mostly youngsters or teenagers. And even they seem to have little or no fashion sense, wearing clashing colours and often ill fitting garments.
This certainly isn't the place to go if you suffer from cacomorphobia. Give me France, Spain or Portugal anytime. Southend is like hell on Earth and an epitome of Brexit Britain.
Quite what the attraction is, is hard to establish.
Of course it is the only real stretch of beach to the east of London. Jaywick and Clacton, further north along the Essex coast, are too far away for Londoners.
And Kent beaches too, such as Margate or Whitstable, are also out of reach.
And so it's Southend on Sea which is very much a Hobson's choice when it comes to a day by the coast.
Beaches on the southern coast of England are much nicer, but again, not so good for a day trip.
But there is really very little to inspire at this estuary 'resort'. The beaches are stoney and the tide always seems to be out, thus a swim is very often out of the question.
But who would want to swim here anyway. Recent media reports have singled out Southend on Sea as being one of many beaches around the country to be affected by sewage outflows.
Indeed it's not so much Southend on Mud, as it is often colloquially referred to, than Southend on Sewage.
But maybe one just came to relax on the beach, tuck into some fish 'n' chips, and enjoy an ice cream.
Well, be prepared to take out a mortgage, as Southend is certainly not cheap.
Getting there will cost a pretty penny, be it by train or car. Train fares from the outskirts of London are around £10 for adults and a little less for kids, so a family of four could be looking at at least £30 or more before stepping onto the promenade.
Driving is a little cheaper in terms of fuel but parking could set you back more than £16 for the day.
So you're finally parked or out of the station and heading to the beach. It's not long before there are demands for food. Fish and chips sell for around a tenner at most outlets, but could cost considerably more. This day out is already getting a little expensive. One could easily be sixty quid down by now and the tide is still out.
"I want an ice cream mummy," your child demands. Before long you've spent another twenty pounds to satisfy their desires and before long a few more pounds are shed to quench their thirst with cans of fizzy pop.
Despite being a stoney beach sand still manages to get everywhere. But finally the sea is in and of course the kids want to swim.
That means someone having to keep guard. Hey, this is Southend. While not downtown Harlem or the Bronx, it's probably not a good idea to leave your handbag stuffed with wallet, mobile phone and keys just sitting on your towel while you all head into the water. Coming back to an empty towel would certainly make an already expensive day an absolute disaster.
But surely there's some redeeming qualities. Well, none that I've encountered.
Having visited primarily to get weather pictures for national papers I have encountered mostly stupidity and rudeness.
Soon after arriving on a recent assignment it all started off pleasantly enough. "Morning," said a passing traffic enforcement officer, happy perhaps that he'd just slapped out two parking fines at only 9 am.
A black jogger ran by on the promenade and proclaimed, "Yo". Why? This wasn't rural France where it's not uncommon for every passerby to greet you with 'bonjour'.
It is in fact the weird magnetic attraction resulting in being festooned with cameras.
Should I have been walking along without such kit it is unlikely the jogger would have said anything at all.
It's not long before you attract the drunks. "Don't tell me, you're 'omeless," a man says as I pass near to the Queen Victoria statue. Clearly already inebriated as he clasped his can of lager, he continued with his vain request that I take a picture of him . "Take a picture of me an' me sister mate." I politely decline and continue.
Then there's the curious and inane. "Are you waiting for anyone famous to turn up my love?" says one woman walking her dog, whilst another young teenage girl asks, "Taken lots of pictures?"
"That's a big one you've got there!" a traffic enforcement officer says pointing at the long lens. Indeed, that's probably the most oft repeated comment. "Wow, can you see the moon with that?" "What are you photographing, Mars?"
And so perhaps it wasn't unusual for several people to make such comments on this occasion. "That's a big one. How far can you see with that?" exclaimed a shirtless lad with wings tattooed across his back. "Can you see the curvature of the Earth?" Puzzled, but willing to oblige his insatiable curiosity, I snapped a picture of the horizon and showed him. "Ah see," he said, apparently vindicated, "No curve. It's flat. Flat Earth!"
Oh my god! They really are out there. Anti-Vaxxers, COVID deniers and flat-earthers. The world truly has gone mad. But at least he was friendly enough, unlike some people one occasionally encounters on the seafront. Snapping a general view of the crowded beach some months back I was harassed by a shirtless black guy holding a packet of chocolate biscuits who threatened to throw them at me should I continue to take pictures, despite not actually taking any pictures of him.
Southend is a draw for all sorts and reflects both ends of the evolutionary spectrum as well as the best and worst of fashion and health.
There are shirtless lager louts, often tattooed from head to foot. The smell of skunk, the slang term for overly powerful marijuana, hangs heavy in the air and youths sit on the promenade puffing away without a care, seemingly oblivious of the police patrols seen walking the length of the beach. But perhaps it should be the fashion police on patrol. It seems apparent that people either don't possess a mirror or are completely oblivious of both body image and dress sense.
Of course, one doesn't expect daytrippers to the beach to turn up in an Armani suit. But it is clear the Brits have no fashion sense at all. Perhaps the worst examples are overweight women wearing skintight leggings, leaving very little to the imagination, revealing strong panty lines and camel-toes! Oh please. Do these people have no shame? And then there are the men in their 40s and 50s proudly sporting beer bellies like large medicine balls hanging over their cheap Primark shorts. OK, some people find losing weight difficult. But why not wear something more flattering rather than clothes that show every ripple of fat and bulge.
If anyone was in any doubt as to how unhealthy the British population is, a trip to Southend will quickly establish the facts. Mobility scooters are everywhere. Obese and overweight men and women fill the beaches and stagger along the promenades. And people can be seen munching on fish and chips, candy floss and downing ice creams everywhere one looks.
There are a few fit people but they are mostly youngsters or teenagers. And even they seem to have little or no fashion sense, wearing clashing colours and often ill fitting garments.
This certainly isn't the place to go if you suffer from cacomorphobia. Give me France, Spain or Portugal anytime. Southend is like hell on Earth and an epitome of Brexit Britain.
tvnewswatch. London, UK
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