Property News · June 8, 2012

Let's move to Frinton-on-Sea, Essex


No pier? No kiss-me-quick? No ice-cream? No fortune tellers? No whelk stalls? It’s not for the likes of meWhat’s going for it? Like Bognor Regis or Tunbridge Wells, Frinton is one of those towns that’s derided as a small-minded place of retired colonels, starchy collars and stiffer morals. No smoke without fire. For the doughty Sir Richard Powell Cooper, who oversaw Frinton’s development 100 years ago, heaped it with draconian bylaws to attract the right sort. No cyclists. No commerce on the seafront. Certainly no pier, like its vulgar neighbour Walton, let alone amusement arcades. The esplanade is bare save for sand (allowed) and huts (ditto). Its first pub opened in 2000. Men were allowed to wear shorts in the golf club only in 2008. All symbolised perfectly in the Frinton Gates, level crossing barriers marking the posher end of town and its attempts at keeping Sodom, Gomorrah and Clacton at bay. Well, they did mark it, until Network Rail unceremoniously demolished them in the dead of night in 2009, despite a three-year local campaign to save them. As Frinton’s mayor said: “Paris has its Eiffel Tower, London has Tower Bridge, in Frinton we have the gates. All over the world people talk about them.” Frinton is beyond parody.The case against No pier? No kiss-me-quick? No ice-cream? No fortune tellers? No whelk stalls? Not for the likes of me. Insufferably conservative in a Ukip kind of way. But I’m sort of glad it exists. Not nearly as smart as it thinks it is. Continue reading…

Source : theguardian.com
Read more…Let’s move to Frinton-on-Sea, Essex

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