Tiptree jam today in China

The Chinese are in love with Tiptree jam. BBC News' 'Tales From The New Silk Road' features footage from Wilkin & Sons' factory at Tiptree and an interview with Chinese brand ambassador Tingting He, who sells Tiptree products to Chinese hotels. In China they're developing a taste for British cream tea, scones and lashings of jam. Twenty five years ago the spoof Essex Liberation Front (namely Phill Jupitus, Richard Edwards and myself) predicted a UK economy based on Tiptree jam — and now it might just be the post-Brexit future. Click on the link to read the whole feature.

Essex water poet in the Guardian

Chelmsford's Sarah Perry                          Picture: Jamie Drew

Great interview with Sarah Perry, author of The Essex Serpent, in today's Guardian. As befits a Gothic novelist, she had an unusual upbringing in Chelmsford in a strict Baptist family. The youngest of five daughters, she attended the wonderfully-named Ebenezer Strict and Particular Baptist Chapel. She aways felt an outsider at school, before losing her faith in her twenties. No wonder The Essex Serpent has such evocative descriptions of the Victorian crisis between faith and science, all set on the Blackwater estuary. It's also sad to read that she has contracted Graves Disease, an auto-immune disorder. She jokes: “I know! It was one of the first things I said: I’m a gothic novelist with Graves’ disease.” Let's hope she manages to get it cured and write another great book. Click on the link to read the whole piece.

Is Shenfield the nation's most influential school?

It's been a good week for my old school. Former Shenfield School pupil Philip Hammond became Chancellor in Theresa May's shuffle. Meanwhile another old Shenfieldian, Richard Madeley, revealed that Hammond was "a Goth back then, he used to arrive in class in a leather trench coat." While Popbitch added that Hammond also used to run a mobile disco in Shenfield. The Goth story is a little unlikely - in the mid-1970s Phil would surely have been more of a trenchcoat-wearing hippy carrying a Led Zeppelin album. Not to be outdone, another old Shenfieldian, Ross Kemp, was on our TV screens getting shot at in Syria in Ross Kemp: The Fight Against Isis. Never mind Eton. Now Cameron and Osborne have departed the scene, it seems that Shenfield, now a comprehensive, is the nation's most influential school.

Strange news from Essex

Just finished Sarah Perry's The Essex Serpent, which is a riveting read. Set in 1893, the landscape of the Blackwater estuary is in many ways the star of the book — Perry does for rural Essex what Hardy did for Wessex. Most of the action is set in the fictional village of Aldwinter, which is on the River Blackwater and appears to be somewhere around St Osyth and Brightlingsea.

The reader comes to know Perry's village intimately — the mist rolling across the salt marshes, the village church with its carved serpent on a pew, World's End cottage at the end of the village and home to the slimy-coated Mr Cracknall, Traitor's oak, the ribs of the wreck known as Leviathan, the changing skies and the rubbing of boats on shingle as the locals fear that something lurks out on the water.

There's lots of simmering passion between wealthy fossil-hunting widow Cora Seabourne and married local vicar William Ransome as they take long walks through the Essex woods, plus more love interest in the form of pioneering surgeon Luke Garrett.

Perry makes good use of historical detail; Cora first stays in Colchester, where she meets Thomas Taylor who lost his legs in the Colchester earthquake of 1884 and now begs by his shattered house. The myth of the Essex Serpent comes from a real source too, the 1699 pamphlet Strange News From Essex, alerting the villagers of Henham-on-the-Mount to the Essex Serpent.

The Essex Serpent is enjoyable for its exploration of Victorian themes, science versus faith, the stirrings of feminism, the slum housing of Bethnal Green and advances in surgery. And on a personal level, as my great great grandfather died from tuberculosis at the age of 33 in Whitechapel in 1872, it's very moving to read Perry writing of the disease's debilitating effects on one of the novel's main characters.

Overall it's an enticing, beautifully-written book for anyone who likes Essex history intertwined with a Victorian love story.

Southend brought to standstill by onions

In a truly Monty Python-esque scenario, Southend was yesterday brought to a standstill by 50,000 onions, reports the Southend Echo. A lorry overturned on Eastern Avenue spilling the said onions, blocking the road and causing gridlock. This eye-watering news could certainly lead to tears in Essex and is proof that for one day at least, the Southend world is just a great big onion. Police advice is to keep 'em peeled.

Essex's Eliza and the Bear say I'm still Standon…

The Standon Calling Festival on the Herts/Essex border runs from July 31 to Aug 2 and it's good to see that on the Standon Calling website the highlights of last year's festival are accompanied by the song Friends from Essex band Eliza and the Bear. The five-piece band are old mates from the Upminster/Romford region and specialise in anthemic indie-folk (or "euphoric folk-pop" to quote the Guardian). As for the name Eliza and the Bear it comes from the title of a book of poetry by Eleanor Rees… you can check out Eliza and co's forthcoming gigs via their Facebook page.

John Cooper Clarke on God's own county

Nice interview with punk poet John Cooper Clarke in the Travel section of the Guardian today in which he discusses his favourite Essex beaches. He mentions his approval of the revamp of Clacton, stating: "Clacton-on-Sea, Walton-on-the-Naze, Frinton-on-Sea. Fantastic places. And Essex, well it's God's own county. It never rains there." He also gives a mention to Point Clear and Jaywick Sands and admires the art deco riviera of Frinton. He compares Frinton, "the snotty neighbour of Clacton-on-Sea", to St Annes-on Sea which has a similar superiority complex over Blackpool. Click on the link to read.

The Ecstasy of Wilko Johnson

“Canvey is the new Lourdes,” reads a memorable piece of graffiti on Canvey Island’s sea wall. Just seen The Ecstasy of Wilko Johnson at the Barbican and it’s a great film and something of an Essex-fest too. Director Julien Temple has Wilko playing chess with the Grim Reaper on Canvey’s sea defences, as you do. Or Wilko's sitting in front of the Labworth Café or down by the jetty, then reminiscing by Hadleigh Castle about his early Game of Thrones-style fantasies. There’s also a memorable final shot of Wilko emerging from the dome of the telescope on top of his Southend home. Let's hope he's enjoying Pluto.

As a meditation on life and death it’s inspiring stuff. Rather than do chemotherapy Wilko opts to live in the moment, feeling an ecstatic love of trees, clouds and everything else around him. “If it’s going to kill me I don’t want it to bore me!” he suggests.

Utilising Wilko’s love of literature there’s plenty of quotes from Milton’s Paradise Lost, Shakespeare’s Hamlet and even Icelandic sagas. Though Johnson remains resolutely atheist and looks forward to only “oblivion”. Temple intersperses it all with slow motion shots of petals unfolding and old film footage of David Niven as a crashed RAF pilot in A Matter of Life and Death. It all works surprisingly well.

We also have more vulnerable moments with Wilko still traumatised by the death of his wife Irene, and reminiscing about the joy he felt when his violent father died and the fact his family were always an embarrassment to his relatives.

There’s footage of a crazy arm-waving Japanese audience at his farewell gig and also the great recording sessions with Roger Daltrey for what was meant to be his final album. Just as it’s turning into a death-affirming eulogy, Wilko is offered hope when Charlie Chan, a photographer and surgeon who was in the audience at one of his gigs, suggests he have some tests at Addenbrooke’s Hospital. He’s not sure if he’ll ever wake up after the operation, but after having a tumour the size of a baby cut out of his stomach Wilko survives and shows us the scars.

The scenes on the seawall of Wilko playing his guitar again for the first time since the operation are genuinely moving. “Bloody hell man, I’m supposed to be dead!” Julien and Wilko have done it right.

Check out ecstasyofwilkojohnson.com for details of screenings.

Prime-time Jaywick in Benefits By The Sea

Despite the sensational title of Benefits by the Sea, the Channel 5 documentary presents quite a positive view of the residents of Jaywick, officially Britain's most deprived town. Those living in the former holiday chalets at Brooklands — the poorest part of Jaywick —  are struggling with poor housing, rubbish roads and street lights that go off at midnight. In the first two episodes we've met Fred an ex-gangster who just wants to be with his cats in an unheated caravan; Carl who is trying to be a good dad to his two daughters but has lost his benefits because he can't read the forms; alcoholic Disco Dave who drinks "Jaywick champagne" (cheap cider from the corner shop) but is trying to go into rehab and being helped by Boo, a recovering alcoholic herself who manages to set up a Jaywick soup kitchen; and Naomi and Stu, a young couple who were previously homeless in Southampton. 

Most heroic is Councillor Don Casey, who spends his time trying to help Fred get heating for his caravan and get lighting after midnight following a horrific machete attack (the residents succeed in getting it turned on until 1am). Yes there are some toe-rags and violent offenders, but most of the residents seem to want to better their lives and are not content claiming benefits, and the impression is that need help rather than censure. And there's always the beach which is a fine diversion from everyone's problems. With the right investment and government aid (the houses only cost 50k) there could still be hope for Jaywick.

Wilko lives!

Great interview with Wilko Johnson in Saturday's Guardian. Alexis Petridis visits Wilko at his Southend home and his piece gives a fine account of Wilko's upgrading to greatest living Essexman after Julien Temple's film Oil City Confidential, his uplifting attitude to impending death and then the miraculous operation that has left him very much alive. Or as Wilko puts it: "Bloody hell man, I'm supposed to be dead!" Though bizarrely, Wilko's periods of depression lifted when he was under a death sentence, but have returned now he's recovered. Made me want to listen again to Wilko's excellent 'farewell' album with Roger Daltrey Going Back Home. The other good news is that Julien Temple has made a film, The Ecstasy of Wilko Johnson, in cinemas from July 17, in which he compares the Canvey Island philosopher to both William Blake and a medieval saint, as you do.

Essex hipsters?

Barking may soon have the cachet of Shoreditch, Bethnal Green and Dalston according to a recent piece in the Evening Standard headlined "Essex Hipsters? It's not such a Barking idea." Guess anything's possible, as I've just discovered a hipster coffee bar has opened at the Whitechapel end of the Commercial Road, near where my great great grandfather traded as a saddler. House prices (which used to be among London's lowest) are rising faster in Barking and Dagenham than in any other borough and there's just been a folk festival there with Barking's favourite bard, Billy Bragg. The Standard also discovered there's an artists' colony in a derelict warehouse on the River Roding, which is now known as the Ice House Quarter. Soon it seems Barking might be away with craft beer, beards and designer cereal shops.

True Blue in Romford

Here's one man who will have enjoyed George Osborne's Budget yesterday. Walking through Romford I came across the offices of local Conservative MP Andrew Rosindell. His constituency office is covered in Union Jack bunting and it also has a St George's flag flying. Oh, and it has the name "Margaret Thatcher House" emblazoned above the door. Inside Margaret Thatcher House there are pictures of Maggie on the wall and a blue plaque dedicated to her outside. The spirit of Simon Heffer's Essex Man clearly lives on in Romford.

The only way is dogs

Essex cultural stereotypes number 247: Spotted this all stations to Barking van in Gidea Park offering dog walking and boarding in God's own county from The Only Way Is Dogs. The dog on the side has presumably already been offered a column detailing his diet tips in several celebrity magazines…

The only way is… Norfolk?

Stumbled across this shop in King's Lynn. The Essex stereotype has spread out into Norfolk it seems and the Essex Boutique sells, would you believe, very high heels and handbags. Yes, there is a part of East Anglia that is forever Towie…

Tilbury meets Frankenstein

And talking of Tilbury, just discovered that Tilbury Fort gets a mention in Mary Shelley's novel Frankenstein. Frankenstein the scientist (the monster is never named) describes sailing from Rotterdam to England where: "The banks of the Thames presented a new scene; they were flat but fertile and almost every town was marked by the remembrance of some story. We saw Tilbury Fort and remembered the Spanish Armada…" Another monster literary triumph for Essex.

Tilbury: Are you Grimsby in disguise?

Tilbury is doubling  as Grimsby says a report on Sacha Baron Cohen's new film Grimsby in the Guardian. Tilbury might seem a bit run-down and once had what the Sun termed "the hardest pub in Britain", but at least it's not as bad as Grimsby it seems. Tilbury had to have a makeover to increase its Grimsbyness, with extra litter, graffiti and burned types being added.

Nice quote from Tilbury resident Bethany Casey, 19, in the Thurrock Gazette upon finding all the shops now had 'Grimsby' written on them: "I thought I was drunk. I tried to get to the off-licence and thought ‘what’s going on here?’ so I went to the other one further down and noticed a run-down park had sprung up – but I didn’t think anything of it because, if they did put a new park in Tilbury, it would get wrecked straight away.”

Still, I'm sure Grimsby doesn't have any hidden jewels among the containers like Tilbury, such as the superb defences of the thoroughly recommended Tilbury Fort (pictured) or Coalhouse Fort, the Bata building or the famous port terminal where generations of immigrants first arrived in Britain…

Essex c'est magnifique

“Essex has never looked nicer,” declared the ITV co-commentator as Le Tour De France moved through Essex, before he then eulogised about the “ripening fields full of wheat and barley.” Indeed, ITV’s coverage was one long travelogue for Essex.

Every person in Saffron Walden appeared to be on the streets and its thatched houses, beams and yellow cottages can rarely have looked finer. The helicopter camera gave us great aerial views of Audley End and a long extended advert for Felsted School, where four of Oliver Cromwell’s sons attended and girls were only allowed in the Sixth Form in 1970.

The commentators seemed very keen on churches, enthusing about St Mary’s Church in Saffron Walden (the largest church in Essex), William the Red granting St Michael’s to Great Sampford, and enjoying the tile and lead roof of St Mary’s in Radwinter.

It was great to see a giant Essex flag as the riders entered Chelmsford and credit to the farmer in Rayne who managed to etch “Rayne Welcomes TDF” on his field. We even had the rare sight of a prang on an Essex road without the threat of fisticuffs, as two of the riders at the back had a minor collision but just carried on cycling.

“And the riders continuing their pastoral journey cross Essex,” enthused the commentator as the race neared Epping Forest. The golden fields and hedgerows of Essex looked fantastic and the organisers must have been impressed by the turnout. Not so much Le Grand Depart as Le See Ya, Mate. Never mind Yorkshire, this was a great day for Essex.

Le Tour de Essex

Good to see that Essex is finally being recognised as a world-class sporting venue. The Tour De France comes through God's own county on July 7. It will certainly prove to TV viewers that Essex has lots of nice country lanes to offer in addition to leopardskin and sticks to the prettier parts of Essex, taking in Saffron Waldon, Rayne, Felsted, Chelmsford and Epping. All very scenic, particularly when the four-wheel drives are off the roads, but my mischievous side would like to see Le Tour tackle some grittier Essex roads. Perhaps the subways and avenues of Harlow or maybe have the cyclists riding through the Festival Leisure Park aka Bas Vegas and then whizzing round the Hollywood-style Basildon sign on the A13 before reaching London and taking on the East Ham and Barking by-pass and the East India Dock Road… or failing that a nice jaunt down the Southend Arterial.

Towie told to folk off in Leigh

Just read a very entertaining piece by the columnist, playwright and actor Sadie Hasler on Towie applying to film at the Leigh Folk Festival. She wasn't too keen to judge by lines like these… "So when I heard that the dimwitted clothes-horses off TOWIE planned to stage a day trip, a diarrhoeic diaspora to film with the Folkies, I got a bit riled. BOG OFF, YOU BOTOX-CLOGGED NUMBSKULLS."

She is at one point almost nice about Joey Essex writing: "I know I sound a bit harsh. I’m sure they’re not all completely deplorable deep down. Some of them are probably even a bit alright. I hear ‘Joey Essex’ in particular is quite cute and a bit heartbreaking. But by god’s great balls I would wrestle him to the death in a vat of cold beans to wrest my county’s name from his moniker for the greater good."

Not sure if the producers of Towie will want to take her up on the cold bean offer, though it sounds like good TV. Hasler ends her column with the news that Towie were denied access to the Leigh Folk Festival and ends by making a moving plea in defence of non-stereotypical Essex: "The no is important. Essex gets maligned and misrepresented enough. Essex gets taken over by lots of forces we can’t control, quite often by the wearying potency of television, and it’s important to defend and exercise what power we have when we can. We are not the tired old tripe, the blinkered lazy stereotype. We are not the shit on the box. We are not that Essex. No." To read her complete uncensored column click on the link.

Record-breaking in Chelmsford

Thanks to Hannah Salisbury and all at the Essex Record Office for a great tour of their eight miles of archives. Situated in Wharf Road, down by the Dr Feelgood-esque backwaters of the River Chelmer, the ERO has thousands of fascinating Essex documents. 

We pondered old Victorian maps of Brentwood, photos of defunct Essex cinemas, saw King Charles the First's Bible and ancient parchment from 1381 detailing the penalties imposed after the Peasants' Revolt, that started in Brentwood (make your own jokes here). Quite sensibly, the Peasants burned all the manorial records, wiping out any poll tax claims. It's fascinating that Essex Man had an eye for the main chance even then. The ERO's Katharine Schofield  showed me the court records from Abbess Roding detailing a payment of 12d as the expenses of the bailiff and two men sent to Writtle to recover a cow taken during the revolt. Dodgy characters Richard and Joseph Herde had also taken the chance to nick eight pieces of timber, a pair of double harrow with rings and clasps of iron and four cartloads of hay… 

The ERO also has a sound and video archive including Paul Simon playing at a Brentwood folk club and an amazing jingle enticing residents to South Woodham Ferrers. I'll be talking about my book The Joy of Essex as part of the ERO's open day on September 14 — it's also going to be filmed and will go into the eight miles of archives. Posterity beckons…