Essex? A largely unknown land for Philosopher and Battleaxe. We’ve just spent 5 days there, starting in Southend (wanted to go on the Pier), Maldon (Philosopher wanted to see the sailing barges), a day trip to Clacton (Pier again…), Constable country (Flatford Mill etc), then on to Lavenham and a night in the Swan Hotel (Battleaxe loves old hotels). Sadly, we couldn’t carry on from there to see my sister, but we’ve had this trip booked for months, and it was our wedding anniversary, so off we went. Warning! This is a long post!
Overall, we enjoyed our break, but constant Covid pressure was stressful – mask-wearing, hand-sanitising and washing, inspecting places before we went in, pre-booking everywhere, not touching things, avoiding others, giving contact details, worrying about loos. We were glad to get home.
I have been to Essex before – about 17 years ago I helped sort a social housing stock transfer in Chelmsford, which meant many horrible drives from Birmingham, stays in a local Premier Inn and exhausting days dealing with stroppy staff. (Stock transfer? Council housing stock sold off to the private sector via newly formed social landlords). Nevertheless, Battleaxe had unsuitable stereotypical ideas about Essex. Think large white Audis, Katie Price, hot tubs, tanning beds, geezers who are probably retired East End gangsters, gas-fired barbeques, marshes, hairdressers, nightclubs, Lynx – and I’ve never even seen an episode of TOWIE…
There were indeed many white Audis driving fast on very many exceptionally busy roads, plus multiple roundabouts, B roads with huge lorries thundering towards us, and the roaring horror of the A12 cutting the county in half. So many roads it reminded me of navigating through the motorway tangle in the middle of Germany. Much expensive-looking new housing, quite possibly with hot tubs and gas-fired barbeques. Marshes? Indeed. Lynx? See later. Geezers? I dunno but we met some of the most Covid-courteous people we have encountered anywhere. Out on walks they practically threw themselves into rivers to let us pass at a safe distance. We didn’t see Katie Price.
Anyway, we started in Southend. It has a very attractive bit of town with lots of greenery and grand Victorian houses, where we had booked into the Gleneagles Guest House, overlooking lawns and the sea. It was good, Battleaxe would recommend. We had a spacious sea-view room and the breakfast was excellent.
At the Pier we booked a one-way train ticket before setting out on the 1.3 mile walk to the end. The wind was perishingly cold. The Pier sticks out into the Thames Estuary across around half a mile of mud before you get to open water. You can see across to Kent on the other side. When we arrived, frozen to death, we got the clackety little train straight back. Battleaxe and Philosopher love piers – we try to visit as many as possible.
In the evening we went to the Pipe of Port, an up-market Covid-friendly candle-lit cellar restaurant recommended to us by our B & B host. Cellars and Covid-friendly don’t immediately go together, but this was quiet and spacious. Too quiet – we had to ring repeatedly and bang on the locked outside door for ages before anyone let us in. It was a bit like gaining access to a very dodgy secret underground night club. Anyway, the food was good. Overall, we liked Southend – the amusements looked well-used and in good nick, and the town was buzzy, cheerful and busy.
Next day was our wedding anniversary. I gave Philosopher this Africa Marmite Lynx as a joke. It smells horrendous – sickly synthetic with a rancid Marmite overlay.
On the way to Maldon we stopped for coffee in Burnham-on-Crouch. The weather was now warm enough for us to sit outside. Burnham is a lovely little place, full of boats and sailors, but also seemed to be the destination of choice for about a zillion cyclists and a zillion more motorbikers.
Our B & B in Maldon was 32 The Hythe, on the quayside, right by the sailing barges. It only has two rooms, and ours had three windows on different sides of the building, and a big telescope to study life on the estuary. The place was absolutely fantastic – we had every amenity and goody imaginable in our room, and the breakfasts… wow, unbelievable. Battleaxe would totally recommend, but don’t all book at once, we want to go back and have a trip on a sailing barge. Unfortunately, this time, none of the barges were going out.
For our anniversary meal we went to Sark, a ritzy glitzy Turkish restaurant. While the food was excellent and very authentic, it was the nearest thing to stereotypical Essex we found – brightly coloured cocktails, the girl next to us wearing a bra as a top with skin tight pleather trousers and high-heeled boots.
Next day, an excellent walk beside the estuary to Heybridge Basin and and back along a canal. The marsh scenery was beautiful and we saw many birds, including honking skeins of geese plunging into the water, curlews, cormorants and many more. There was a Tiptree tea-room at the Basin, and once again we could sit outside in the sun.
Of course, we knew there was another nearby Pier to add to our collection, at Clacton, so we had to visit it. Poor Clacton looks very depressed, the planks on the Pier looked a bit warped and rotted, and the amusements, rides etc were all sadly deserted. Tacky, but not the tackiest we have seen – that crown still belongs to Paignton Pier in Devon.
One of the highlights of our trip was visiting the Constable complex at Flatford. The weather was dry, but threatening enough to deter most visitors, so the place was virtually empty, and very romantic/atmospheric. There was a big chart showing the location of Constable’s Flatford paintings so you could stand at the various viewpoints. Naturally there was a National Trust tearoom, open-ish – scone in a box, paper cups of coffee. Not really right.
From Flatford, we drove up to Lavenham in Suffolk, ye olde halfe-timbered picture-postcarde place with many knicke-nacke shoppes and a whacking great church. The Swan Hotel is a vast, rambling old place occupying many ancient halls and houses. Now, here’s a thing. Over the years Battleaxe and Philosopher have stayed in any number of famous historic heritage hotels up and down the country, and chances are, they try to take the piss. If you are staying for just one night they try and palm you off with one of their least attractive rooms. The amount of time we have spent dragging our bags up and down rickety staircases and along endless corridors from one room to another – and the Swan was no exception. The first room they gave us was characterless and cramped, with a large dead bird on the dingy flat roof outside the window and the reassuring rumble of extractor fans in the background. Down we trundle to Reception yada yada and quelle surprise, the next room they produced was twice the size, cosy, lots of proper crooked olde beams etc.
But the best thing was this. In front of us at Reception was a man in full shooting garb, even to the plus fours and socks with little fringy bits on. He handed over a long package to the Receptionist, saying: ‘Would you put this in the Gun Room’ We were riveted. Gun Room? Do all posho country hotels have them? We speculated much, but I suppose if you are the sort of benighted person who chooses to go shooting it makes sense. You can hardly keep your guns in your bedroom…
The Swan was a lovely old hotel, but I think we were a bit spoilt by the fantastic Maldon B & B experience, and also the dead bird room was a bit of a downer…
So, here we are, back at home, learning that Essex has asked (apparently) to be put into the next Covid-tier up….
