Southend-on-Sea

Standing at the end of Britain’s longest pier, on a cold and misty morning, looking out across the Thames Estuary, I wondered, for the umpteenth time: why do people take the piss out of Southend? It’s got no airs and graces. It doesn’t take itself too seriously. Yet out here, surrounded by still grey sky and still grey water, with only a few seagulls for company, I’m struck by its barren windswept beauty. You’d never guess London was only an hour away.

Southend-on-Sea has been a running joke for as long as I can remember. Even the train to London was known as the Misery Line, on account of its endless delays. Yet lately, something’s changed. The railway is vastly improved (quite possibly because the route to Fenchurch Street station is run by an Italian company), but there’s more to it than that. The same thing is happening here that happened a generation ago in Brighton. Young Londoners, priced out of the Big Smoke, have discovered this slightly scruffy seaside town is a fine place to raise a family.

I had lunch with local entrepreneur Marc Miller at his latest venture, a posh fish and chip shop called Clarence Yard. Marc spent a million quid on this old bakery, restoring its Victorian brickwork, vaulted ceiling and cobbled floors. It’s a perfect metaphor for Southend’s modest renaissance, a smart restaurant with a rich heritage that’s still refreshingly down-to-earth.

Marc’s family run traditional entertainments around town, including Sealife Adventure and Adventure Island (Britain’s no. 1 free-admission fun park, apparently). They also own Radio Essex, which feels fitting, for Marc is the quintessential Essex businessman — friendly and full of energy, with a keen awareness of the bottom line.

After I’d stuffed my face with cod and chips (the mushy peas were delicious), my friend Tracy drove me out to Southend Airport — sorry, London Southend Airport.