Pity about the Prittlewell prince

Was in Southend last Monday on a very rainy day and after a bracing walk from Leigh-on-Sea thought I'd take a look at Southend Museum's artefacts from the 'Prittlewell Prince', billed in the press as 'Essex's answer to Tutankhamun'. The burial chamber, found in Prittlewell, contains lots of lavish grave goods such as a beautiful blue glass beaker. It was thought to belong to Seaxa, not a heavy metal guitarist but the brother of King Saebert of Essex, who in the seventh century was the first Anglo-Saxon king to convert to Christianity.

The only problem was that after finding the museum, it was padlocked as it closes every Monday. So we had to make do with the pictured poster. Just a thought, but if the museum really does contain the UK's equivalent of Tutankhamun's tomb and Southend is now set to rival Cairo, shouldn't it be open all week?

What have the Romans ever done for Essex?

Just enjoyed a day trip to Colchester. Arriving at Colchester Town rather than Colchester station meant a fine view of the ruins of St Botolph's Priory from the train. Exploring the ruins in closer detail they're a fascinating mass of huge cylindrical columns and arches made of recycled Roman brick and stone trashed by Henry VIII. Yet in historic Colchester they are almost an affterthought.

Colchester Castle was as magnificent as ever and it's still an immense thrill to take a tour of the foundations, which are those of the Roman temple sacked by Boudica's Iceni tribes. The museum has some great finds including the beautiful gold bangles and earrings found under Fenwick's department store in the charred layer of town left by Boudica's rampage. Plus there's the Roman doctor buried with a complete surgical kit, the tombstone featuring a Roman Centurion trampling over a defeated Brit, and the magnificent Colchester vase with it's gladiators and whips.

Then it was on to the Balkerne gate with its two intact arches and an astonishing mass of preserved Roman city wall. My sister and I still had time to make it the Firstsite art gallery before catching the six o'clock train back to London. Colchester has just as much history as town s like Bath — it really should be a top tourist attraction.

Thurrock: the worst services in Britain

Good to see Essex win another trophy in addition to Love Island. Thurrock services on the M25 topped a drivers' poll of Britain's 111 service stations as the absolute worst. The Guardian went along to the services at Thurrock. They don't sound that bad compared to other dodgy service stations, just very chain dominated with branches of Burger King, M&S, W H Smith and Costa. Plus there's some smelly showers according to the lorry drivers. The services were opened in the 1990s and are now under redevelopment. Operators Moto do score highly for euphemisms though, describing being voted a bit crap as "a negative impact on our customers preconceptions."

Chateau de Essex

My daughter's pal Katy, who grew up in Brentwood, has just presented our family with some Essex wine as a thank you for holidaying with us. Bacchus 2016 Reserve is brewed by New Hall Vineyards in Chelmsford and is a fine fruity wine which we enjoyed drinking. Proof that Essex is very much the Bordeaux of England…

Essex Yeoman goes up the Junction

Visiting Upminster the other week I was surprised to find the Essex Yeoman pub by the station has now has changed its name to the Junction. The change happened back in 2015, but it's still a shame to lose Essex from a traditional pub name, even if Upminster is now in the London borough of Havering. As described in my book The Joy of Essex, I used to go in to the Yeoman for a pint with my dad after returning from West Ham games, before driving home to Great Warley. Where are the Essex Yeomen now? Probably all on Love Island, I guess.

Canvey's promised land

It's not often you hear Dr Feelgood on Radio 4's religious programme Sunday. But the Thames Delta tones of Lee Brilleaux singing Going Back Home were used in Sunday's feature on a small number of Haredi Jews who are moving from Stamford Hill to the "promised land" of well-kosher Canvey Island. The orthodox Jewish families have been deterred by the high house prices of Stamford Hill and are now favouring the sea air and cheaper homes of Canvey. So blokes in tall black hats and soberly-dressed women can now be seen on the Island. Canvey has always been a bit different and so far it seems to be going well. The Oyster Fleet Hotel and Dr Feelgood manager Chris Fenwick was interviewed and recalled last year finding two Hasidic Jews standing down by the jetty immortalised by Dr Feelgood, asking his advice on moving to the area. "I can not see any problem at all, they are making the right steps to interact with the community and this is a piece if Canvey history," said Fenwick. "I say bring it on, it totally works!"

Konchesky's cafe is mash of the day in Brentwood

Opening of Konch's Kaff        Picture: Brentwood Gazette

You can take the boy out of Dagenham… Former West Ham defender Paul Konchesky, now playing for QPR, has proved true to his Essex roots by opening Konch's Kafe, a pie and mash shop in Brentwood. The Brentwood Gazette pictures Towie's Chloe Lewis at the opening and described it as "mash of the day". The cafe was formerly Angie's Pie and Mash. Konchesky has bought it and installed his mum Carol, who lives at Kelvedon Hatch, in charge. Should be ideal for his old West Ham mates to refuel in before a night at Sugar Hut…

The Battis gets a makeover

Readers of my book The Joy of Essex might recall my mention of Romford's dodgy alleyway by the railway, The Battis. My friend Katie Dawson, a former Green Party councillor and Romford resident turned Islingtonian, revealed that the Battis was the stuff of childhood nightmares, a sort of Lord of the Rings netherworld that was terrorised by Romford Orcs.

She told me: “My mum and dad were quite relaxed and easy going but when I was a teenager the one thing they said to me was ‘we don’t care where you go, but whatever you do, don’t go up the Battis!’” Well now it seems the Battis has had a makeover. On a recent visit to Romford I discovered it had gone technicolour, in some strange attempt by the London borough of Havering to make it more touchy-feely and less like something from A Clockwork Orange. Is there no end to gentrification? 

Clacton stations

Plenty about Clacton in the media today following the defection of local Conservative MP Douglas Carswell to UKIP. The seafront has been awash with TV journalists doing vox pops and today's Guardian editorial, headlined "Schism-on-Sea" describes Clacton as: "A failed North Sea resort area, parts of it synonymous with deprivation, inhabited by a mainly white population that has missed out on Greater London boom times, Clacton could have been designed as a prime Ukip target seat." Of course, the Tendring Peninsula was once more welcoming to European adventures, hence the famous joke, "Harwich for the continent, Frinton for the incontinent." Meanwhile the existing UKIP candidate in Clacton has been on Radio 4's Today refusing to stand down, which threatens to turn it all into a right old Essex bundle.

This is how the world will end in Essex — not with a bang but a Wimpy…

What is it about Essex and Wimpy restaurants? The brand was created by American Eddie Gold in 1934 and the first 'Wimpy Bar' was opened in the West End by Lyons in 1954. For a time they thrived as Britain's first only fast food restaurants. Indeed some of my childhood was mispent visiting the Wimpy in Brentwood High Street. But then McDonald's arrived in the 1980s and I'd assumed they'd all been closed down. Yet during my recent visit to Upminster I spotted the Wimpy there still prospering. A bit of a Life on Mars moment. I've also come across branches at Barking, Romford, Basildon, Grays, Colchester, Maldon, Witham, Wickford, Braintree and just about everywhere else in God's Own County. Wimpy Mania is something I first remarked upon in my book The Joy of Essex. The Benfleet Wimpy was even chosen as the site of a relaunch by new owners Famous Brands in 2007 featuring, somewhat improbably, Geoffrey Hayes of Rainbow dressed as Mr Wimpy. When Essex falls in love with something it remains incredibly loyal to the brand. In fact I'm sure there's a few Neolithic axehead shops still thriving in the backstreets of Grays…

Good moos from Havering

Havering Council has made headlines on ITV and Radio London for using Red Poll cattle to graze the 215 acres of Bedfords Park. Apparently they're cheaper and more sustainable than employing humans to cut the grass and free up staff to work elsewhere. And all they need is a Red Bull for refreshment. The placid breed of cows help to preserve the park's 155 species of wildflowers, which suffer from traditional hay or grass cutting. The cattle are also less likely to disturb or kill mice, voles, amphibians and reptiles. Last year Havering used Suffolk Punch horses to clear woodland and it is now claiming to be London's greenest borough. Clearly a bovine triumph for the council's steer-ing comittee.

Juke box Dury

Nice to see Ian Dury's Spasticus Autisticus, a song that was very controversial in the 1980s, included in the opening ceremony of the Paralympics. What an Olympics for Essex it's been so far with the inclusion of Dury, the Prodigy, Blur, Underworld, Jesse J, Russell Brand and I'm Forever Blowing Bubbles.

Essexy beasts and Essexism

So the Essex Lion appears to be an overfed cat. The police have called off the search and the papers are revelling in a superb silly season story. The Sun has three pages on the "Essexy beast". The Daily Mirror has a front stage story "Revealed: The Lion of Essex" next to a picture of Tom the ginger cat who sparked a two day lion-hunt. It also exposes a Twitter fake picture with the memorable headline, "You can't hide your lion eyes".The story also makes the front page of the Guardian and the paper includes an internet picture of the lion superimposed upon the Towie cast in front of their Essex logo.

Meanwhile the Independent opts for the moral high ground with a piece by Patrick Strudwick lambasting anti-Essex snobbery. He claims "There's no moral difference between laughing at people simply because of where they were born and mocking people because of the amount of melanin in their skin, their chromosomal make up or their inability to walk." This PC viewpoint rather ignores the fact that much of the internet commentary, such as the brilliant Essex Lion Twitter account, was very funny and that most Essex people can laugh at themselves.

"Essexism, it seems, is the last unchallenged prejudice," writes Strudwick. Sounds like the geezer needs a slap from the Essex Lion round the back of Sugar Hut. (Sorry, that's a joke, been reading too much of the Essex Lion, Bruv.)

Yes, there's some truth in the stereotype in Estuary Essex, but most people are intelligent enough to know that not everyone in the county is like a Towie character and that Saffron Walden, Maldon and Manningtree are different in character to say Basildon or Grays. And the one thing worse than having a dodgy public image is not having one. Essex could be as bland as Bedfordshire were it not for the jokes.

The lion that roared in Essex

There's a lion on the loose in Essex. The big cat is said to be near a caravan site in St Osyth near Clacton and is being stalked by police marksmen. It was spotted by a man who shouted in Essex style "it's a f***ing lion!" Presumably the lion should be easy to spot, as it will be one of the few things not wearing leopardskin, arf arf. No one is sure where it came from. A circus has accounted for all its animals so was it some geezer's trophy pet? The Essex Lion twitter account has been trending with quotes from the lion such as I'M GOING TO LAKESIDE FOR A NANDOS AND PERHAPS A YOUNG FAMILY and I'M HIDING IN JD SPORTS. POLICE ALWAYS HAVE IT IN FOR ME JUST COZ I'M A LION. Plus ON ME WAY TO THE CARPARK FOR A PROPER FIGHT. BRUVS GOING DOWN. LISTENING TO CIRCLE OF LIFE TO GET PUMPED and, best of all, LEAVE HIM ALONE SIMBA, HE AIN'T WURF IT! All stereotypical nonsense of course, but rather funny. Now all we need is Elton John to compose the movie score and Joey Essex to prove himself as a lion tamer.

The best Essex Arg has ever had

Rather too much information on the Arg/Gemma Towie romance in the latest issue of Heat. "The best sex I've ever had!" is the cover quote from Arg. Don't know about you, but I keep thinking of Mark Wright's description of his mate's "burger nips" at this point. Nurse, the screens!

Olympian Essex

Something of a result for Essex in the Olympics opening ceremony. The score was by Romford's Underworld, plus we had an unforgettable airing of I'm Forever Blowing Bubbles and a video of Firestarter by Braintree icons The Prodigy. All it lacked was a Towie tribute and a giant Jamie Oliver puppet seeing off Voldemort with a bottle of virgin olive oil...

Vajazzles Down Under

We're in Sydney and the news is that The Only Way Is Essex has hit Australian TV - surely a natural home for TOWIE. We're returning to the Uk this week to discover the Essex world turned upside down.

Amy Childs is on Celebrity Big Brother and has quit TOWIE and Mark and Lauren have split five months after getting engaged. There's also a rumour Mark might also be quitting TOWIE to, erm, crack Hollywood.

And no doubt Joey Essex will soon be leaving to crack the Consservative Cabinet and Nanny pat is Cameron's new riot tsar offering tough love and sausage plaits... Get me a drink in Sugar Hut, quick.

Oh I wish I was Brentwood bound…

Why Paul Simon wished he was homeward bound to Brentwood

As a teenager I’d heard a rumour that Paul Simon wrote his classic song Homeward Bound while sitting at Brentwood Station in the 1960s. Back then it was easy to imagine him in the moribund waiting room writing lines about shades of mediocrity.

But in the internet age it’s possible to verify such assertions, and the truth is that Simon penned Homeward Bound in either Ditton or Halebank stations in Widnes, while waiting for a train back to Brentwood, where he was living with his girlfriend. Blimey. Yes, it was Brentwood that made Simon and Garfunkel get all poetic.

SITTING IN THE RAILWAY STATION
He made his UK debut at the Railway Inn Folk Club in Brentwood in 1964 and met Kathy Chitty there, the inspiration for Kathy’s Song and America. She was a 17-year-old Essex girl on the door selling tickets to bearded men in cord jackets. They dated for two years until Paul returned to the US. Kathy now lives in Wales and maintains a diplomatic sound of silence on all Simon-related subjects. Although I can picture her as a slightly folksier version of Celebrity Big Brother’s uber-Essex babe Chantelle.

These days if Simon was homeward bound to Brentwood, he’d walk out of the station, trudge 100 metres up King’s Road and come to the Amstrad headquarters. You wonder what Sir Alan Sugar would make of the wandering folk troubadour:

“Paul, shut up a minute will yer, you’re doing my head in! You took a bloody trip to Widnes to play a gig and all you could do is whinge about yer bleeding girlfriend Kaffy. No sales figures, just lyrics scrawled on a British Rail timetable. I’m not having that. Shut up, I am talking! OK, you can knock out a decent tune, but you ain’t doing it for me. If I asked you to build me a swimming pool you’d be knocking off every time you saw some leaves that are green turn to brown. With regret, Paul, you’re fired!”

Literary Geezers — Would Mr Darcy now come from Essex?

David Nicholls is channelling Essex for literary success via Southend-on-Sea

Would Mr Darcy now come from Essex? It’s interesting to note that the hero of David Nicholls’ very funny novel Starter For Ten is a character called Brian from Southend. The opening scene sees Brian and his two old mates from school on the end of Southend Pier, drinking beer and contemplating his imminent departure to university.

The novel is heavily autobiographical, but even though Nicholls himself hails from Hampshire he makes Brian an Essex man. These days coming from Essex is a form of literary shorthand for an unsophisticated bloke who drinks too much and then has many comedic moments trying to bed a posh bird with middle-class bohemian parents who walk around the house in the nude. And having to overcome the prejudice against Essex men makes it all the better when he finally gets a girl.

DICKENS' PUB LANDLORD
Indeed, Essex characters have a long history in literature. A recent reading of Charles Dickens’ Barnaby Rudge, published in 1841, made me realise that old Dicko had created the Pub Landlord 170 years before Al Murray. Dickens’ character of John Willet, landlord of the Maypole Inn in Chigwell, likes to sit by his fireside boiler ‘tackling’ subjects in his slow-witted boorish manner, surrounded by his barroom acolytes. He would almost definitely read the Daily Express, dislike the EU and insist on a white wine for the lady. Dickens’ enjoys his comeuppance. There’s a very funny and poignant scene where a stunned John is finally rendered speechless as anti-Papist Gordon Rioters smash up his pub.

Hopefully there might one day be a sophisticated Essex character in a novel. But perhaps the comedy of Essex characters is just too good for authors to resist. Indeed, there may well be a PhD to be had studying the role of the Essex Geezer in literature.

The Road to Southend Pier

In Southend you can stand in the middle of the Thames Estuary and still keep your feet dry…

We’re eating fish and chips on the gravel beach in the rain. A typical English day trip, but the chips are good and we’re just about sheltered by two deck-chairs. For my nine-year-old daughter Nell it’s a real adventure. And after eating chips she then finds three dead baby crabs and we dip a toe in the sea. It’s hard to believe we were in London an hour ago.

It’s less enjoyable for the Essex family with teenage kids behind us on the front. “What a shit day… only ‘cos you made it shit… move your fat arse… shut up!… but I’ve got a soaking wet arse!”

Still, the weather clears up and it’s pleasing to see Southend, once a solidly white working class resort, now being used by many ‘new’ EastEnders. We spot families who are black, Bangladeshi and orthodox Jewish in 100 metres on the seafront.

The listed domed front of the Kursaal — the world's first theme park — is still there, which brings back memories of Rod Stewart and the Faces and Steve Harley and Cockney Rebel gigs in the 1970s. Today it’s full of fail-to-grab a soft toy machines, ten-pin bowling and staff in electronic illuminated bunny ears.

ADVENTURE ISLAND
Nell loves Adventure Island, the fun fair by the Pier. We avoid the chuck a ball at something for two quid stalls and my daughter enjoys the high windmill slide and crooked house. It’s staffed by friendly studenty types and obviously hugely popular with families.

But the real highlight of any trip is Southend Pier — although sadly the nearby Pier Bar where my mate Nick used to bop in his Teddy Boy days appears to have disappeared.

There’s a newly rebuilt glass and wood entrance hall with Matrix-style futuristic lifts. We buy walk there/get the train back tickets (£3 adults, £1.60 kids). The Pier appears to stretch into the sea forever. Nell decides to walk only a little way because she says she’ll be scared walking over water and even more scared on the train. She tackles her fear by crawling on the planks and looking through the gaps at the water below. A splinter in her finger puts a halt to this but at least takes her mind off being scared. I entice her onwards by revealing it’s the longest pleasure pier in the world at 1.33 miles.

ESTUARY ENGLISH
Southend Pier has had a battered history, but it refuses to die. It’s suffered devastating fires in 1959, 1976, 1995 and 2005, plus in 1986 the MV Kingsabbey sliced through the pier and left it with a 70 feet gap. But as Sir John Betjeman said “The pier is Southend. Southend is the Pier”. And they just keep on rebuilding it.

It’s calm out at sea after the busy promenade. We wave at the passing train named the Sir John Betjeman. And stopping at the shelters on the way, fortified by a shared Mars Bar at the vending machine half way out, we find ourselves edging towards the pierhead and sensing just how wide the mouth of the Thames is.

“Look, we’ve come a really long way. You can’t see the name of Adventure Island anymore!” says Nell.

It reminds me of my own childish excitement when our family first ventured down the Pier. The Isle of Grain and the Isle of Sheppey are vivid and enticing across the estuary. The sea is flat and on a hot day there’s a pleasing breeze. Boats sail past, tantalizingly close.

END OF THE PIER SHOW
Finally we reach the rectangular platform at the end of the pier. There aren’t many places where you can stand 1.33 miles out to sea. It’s much better than say Brighton pier. The tacky amusements have gone and there’s just a reasonably priced café and a new lifeboat station with a RNLI shop and the lifeboats on display through glass windows.

From the café Nell rings her sister: “Lola, I’m 1.33 miles out in the sea!”

People fish from the end of the pier, or sit and gaze at Kent and Cooling Marshes and the mouth of the Thames in the distance. Nell looks through a pay and display telescope and watches the cargo ships heading towards Tilbury.

It’s all rather splendid. There aren’t many places that have a world record anything, yet so close to London we have the world’s longest pleasure pier. And for children and dads it’s a great day trip. Perhaps we should succumb to pier pressure a bit more.