Brace Yourself!

Every year, since we've been able to do so, my wife and I have bought Senior Citizen Railcards with the intention of "seeing a bit more of this country, this year", and, every year, just like clockwork, we realise that we're coming to the end of the Railcard's natural life and that we haven't done anything with it.  Panic sets in and we hunt about for possible locations for a day out, which will go some way toward justifying the expense of the Railcard in the first place.  This is a long-winded explanation of why, a week or so ago, you could find us heading out to the east coast for a day by the seaside.

Where did we go to?  Well, to a certain extent we were retracing the steps I've described in 'The Curse of the Jolly Fisherman' albeit with better weather.  I don't want to upset the City Fathers unduly, so let's utilise a cryptic crossword clue:

1 (across) Confused eg. SS Kens

 Yes, that should save any red faces.  Therefore, we were not going to Mablethorpe or Chapel St. Leonards, despite the undisputed attractions of those rival resorts.

It's been quite a few years since I've been to this particular resort as a destination.  I've passed through it and by it on numerous occasions but haven't actually aimed to spend the day there.  I can now understand why not.  Here are a few observations:

1.  I've Got Wheels!

It must be the mobility scooter capital of the world.  I have never seen so many in one place at one time.  Of course, there's nothing inherently wrong with mobility scooters and for some, they're an essential part of living a relatively normal life.  However, the majority seemed to be employed in moving the morbidly obese from one eating venue to another. What amazed me was not the number but the sheer variety.  As well as the conventional scooter there were also monstrosities bedecked with chrome and faux exhaust pipes that looked like miniature U.S. Interstate Trucks. Some sported trailers, in addition to the scooter itself, containing shopping or dogs or, on one memorable occasion, a full sound system belting out C&W hits.  Often there was a panoply of rear-view mirrors, in the manner of Mods motor scooters, although these clearly had no functional purpose because it is your role, as a pedestrian, to get out of their way, not for them to be aware of you.  There was even a Sinclair C5, albeit pedal-powered only, just think how differently it might have turned out for Clive Sinclair if he had just thought to add on an Interstate Trucker option?

2.  The Smell of the Briny

It isnt there.  We took ourselves to the end of the pier, which is as close to the sea (when the tides in) as you can reasonably get at this resort without getting your feet wet.  My wife remarked that she usually enjoyed the smell of the sea but that this was conspicuous by its absence.  Actually, it might well have been there but, if so, it was completely overwhelmed by the overriding aroma of hot fat.  Deep fried fast food being the principal diet in these here parts.  I imagine that, if you were a vegan, vegetarian or just someone committed to a relatively healthy diet, you would die of starvation here.  As we walked down to the sea front, the eateries were largely focused on variations on a theme of the good old English Breakfast, with small breakfasts, large breakfasts, sausage cobs and bacon rolls predominating.  Then, as we got closer, fish and chips became the order of the day with any number of venues competing to be the best in town (allegedly).  By the time we got to the sea front proper our nostrils were assailed with the dubious combination of doughnuts, burgers and more fish and chips.  Every possible nook seemed to contain a deep fat fryer and griddle and a queue of people eager to partake of something, anything, deep-fried.  There wasnt a lettuce leaf or a vegetable in sight.  My wife expressed an interest in pizza and I told her that she was probably being wildly optimistic, which proved to be true.  We settled for fish and chips.

3. It's a State of Mind

Clearly the resort meets a need, otherwise it wouldn't exist in the form that it does.  As I was wandering along, I tried to imagine just what state of mind you would need to adopt n order to get the most out of the place and I came to the conclusion that you would have to be one of three things:

a)  Intoxicated

b) A child, or

c) Intoxicated and childish

As I've been all three of these at various points in life, I can see the possibility of an attraction and I'll bet it gets interesting late at night when deep-fried anything coupled with a go on the fairground rides, always seems like a good idea.

Overall, it's not the resort's fault that it didn't find favour with me on this particular day.  At another time in life I might well have greeted it like a long-lost friend and looked on it as akin to Disneyland.  Perhaps I should view it in the same manner that I might view an attractive but outrageously clad young lady - as someone who might well have been a dream come true 40 years ago but wouldn't fit the bill, now?

It would seem that we were not alone in our judgement, either.  Having arrived at 13.00 with the plan to head home atound 19.00, we came to the conclusion that we had exhausted the resort's charms by 15.30 and rushed to catch the 16.10 train home.  We were met by a long queue of like-minded souls which threatened to fill the two-carriage train back to Nottingham. 

We left the resort to the whir of mobility scooters and the enjoyment of Groups (a) (b) and (c) and headed back to the relative tranquility of the East Midlands.