I guess the British seaside is something unique and I could write for hours, maybe, in describing what makes a seaside resort and as to why it has been in decline for the past 30 or so years.
The answer to the last point is easy, cheap holidays in Spain and the suchlike where glorious weather is just about guaranteed. Some resorts have lasted better than othersa; whilst some are grim and a haven for drugs, vice of the stag weekend, those on the south coast, an hours or so train ride from the heart of London have done much better.
And so to Eastbourne; situated on a low sandy and stoney part of the coast, between two long and high lengths of chalk cliffs; the one to the west being the world famous Beachy Head, Eastbourne occupies a sweeping bay with shallow stoey beack and a grand Georgian and Victorian promenade overlooking the beach. It has lost some of it's past glories, but not much; buildings are well maintained and most have had a recent lick of paint. But look closer and you'll see the high street has mainly charity shops and the pier is in a pretty poor state.
The British pier is one of the wonders of the seaside; most built during Victorian times to allow people to parade in their Sunday best, or promenade, a stucture bult on cast iron frames with a wide wooden walkway heading out onto the sea with cafes and amusements to entertain the throng.
So, after breakfast we headed out in our little Polo and up the M20 to Ashford to the new International Station to pick up the train along the coast to Sussex. We can catch Eurostars here as well, and from Ashford Paris is just an hour and fifty minutes away! As you can imagine a spring vacation is being planned.
There was enough time to grab a coffee on the platform, not the usual burnt to a horrible taste of times past, but flavoursome continantal cups with flavoured syrups and chocolate and marshmellow options; maybe Starbucks did bring some good after all?
Anyway, just after 10:15 we boarded our two coach train and soon we were heading out over the Kentish countryside out west and onto the Romney marsh and to Rye. The white cliffs around Dover creat spoil by long-shore drift which has created a wide marshy area at the western coastal area of Kent called the Romney marsh. A haven for wildlife, it is great to travel across by train keeping an eye out for wintering birds and lost photographic oportunities.
Rye is built on a chalky outcrop over looking the marshes, and we stop here to collect some more passengers. Then it is off through Hastings, St Leonards-On-Sea, Bexill before arriving at Eastbourne.
A short walk along the High Street, brought us out in the bright winters sunlight on the prom and the sight of the stoney beach and magnificent Victorian pier stretching out into the English Channel.
We head to the pier, with me snapping away all the time; it was bright and sunny, but a keen wind had got up, casing the sea to stir into what I described as not survey weather.
The pier was pleasant enough, but look closely and the paint is peeling and the supports are rusting badly. Best not think too much about it. A brisk walk to the end of the pier shows most places of entertainment are closed, but that meant no people and good photographs!
Time for lunch, and a Belgian Cafe was spotted, and as well as the more usual beers sold, they had a selection of rich dark Trappist made beers; all smokey flavoured and very, very strong. Julie had risotto and I had a salad, both followed by Creme Brulee.
With our heads spinning we wandered back to the station to catch a train back east, and then on to home.
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