Butterfield wrote:

Have you not made actual snide comments about places before? I'm sure you have!

I think the same could be said about these "urban explorers" (Wandering Turnip) - at least I'm not filming these places for public viewing on social media and making money from it - and didn't even take any photos for myself. I've just always been intrigued by Jaywick - a renowned town of depravation in a contrasting lovely beachside location - and it certainly has an interesting history. Seeing as I was in the area for the first time I wanted to see it for myself. Would it be better if we just forgot about places like that? I didn't get out on this occasion as it was the end of the day and just did a loop of the main road that circles the main part, but I have walked around poor places and spent money in them before, just as I have in posher places. I just like visiting different places - and yes, I might form an opinion on them.

Anyway, I'm back in the landlocked poverty and grime of the West Midlands now. The one thing I did think was that at least with Jaywick there's somewhere actually affordable in the South East - £20,000 for a detached house with a seaview anyone?!

Of course I have (I acknowledged it there). That’s not what I’m saying.

I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you going there, I was just curious why you’d specifically go there and not spend time/money.

I didn’t say anything about forgetting these places - and this isn’t the place to say, but I’ve never voted for them to continue to rot either.

You weren’t being lectured or hectored by me, but now I am by you - for being curious.

I accept and reject the comparison with The Wandering Turnip. I don’t know that what he does is poverty tourism, but I can accept that many (by no means all or most) of his viewers likely only watch to be repulsed with a frisson of ‘thank god I don’t live there’.

Many of his videos couldn’t even be mistaken for the chance to do that. Some of them are deeply sad and depressing, thoughtful. He did one I saw where he looked at cheap properties for sale in London, and he was correct in how absurd what he was seeing really is.

There was one with no floor where he had to sign a waiver saying if disability or death resulted, he or his estate wouldn’t sue. It was on for several hundred thousand pounds. When he goes to dying towns, he speaks to local people, he walks around, he’s compassionate.

Have I looked at a district I’m passing through and said ‘my god, what a dump’ - I have. I think that’s different to having a day out specifically to a well known dump purely so I can look at it through glass and say ‘my god, what a dump’. I was only asking what the motive was.

I definitely reject the charge that I’m ultimately the snobbish one. Snobbish for myself yes, I own that. But the idea that it’s me who’s OK with the existence of these ‘forgotten places’ and that I just close my mind to their existence or suffering is completely offensively false.

And just because I don’t personally live there - and wouldn't want to, it’s not the various Jaywicks and New Addingtons around the country that I have seen through glass but never set foot in, don’t know anyone in, and haven’t walked into a cafe or ever had a night out in a pub in.

I’ve had one night stands on estates and in countries many would turn off if seen on television…

No closed minded sneering snob would dream of doing so.

I didn't have a "day out" to Jaywick - we simply took a short diversion from Clacton (adjoined to Jaywick) en-route back to the caravan park. We'd already passed signs in the days beforehand and as it was close by decided to take a peek. I just couldn't not.

I've since read further about Jaywick and watched some videos to learn more - including how the locals feel about the place (mixed bag, though most suggest it has a good community feel; the rotting junk was also mentioned), and I feel truly educated now, like I've been on a geography field course.

Weekend in Marseille at the end of the month. Just booked a week in August in Albania.

Another needed. Some time in Marrakesh calls once again, especially after this freezing week.

Having contributed to someone else’s Lisbon trip, I’m considering it myself for September. I missed the Museu Nacional de Arte Antiga during previous visits, so that’s a reason in itself. After the unpleasantness of Britain, the Portuguese are always a tonic.

Butterfield wrote:

I didn't have a "day out" to Jaywick - we simply took a short diversion from Clacton (adjoined to Jaywick) en-route back to the caravan park. We'd already passed signs in the days beforehand and as it was close by decided to take a peek. I just couldn't not.

I've since read further about Jaywick and watched some videos to learn more - including how the locals feel about the place (mixed bag, though most suggest it has a good community feel; the rotting junk was also mentioned), and I feel truly educated now, like I've been on a geography field course.

Fair enough, sounds interesting. I was really, mainly, playing devils advocate.

I'm going to the north of Ireland for my summer holiday. Planned activities include
- checking out storage places in Belfast
- going to Derry/Londonderry to see how long the journey takes, for future reference
- going to Dundalk for similar reasons
- also Bangor (NI)
- finding out where you can have a wee on Sunday mornings, as all the big shops are closed till 1pm.

I got ferry bookings, I got a paper car insurance certificate for the Republic, I got nothing keeping me here.

I've just discovered they drive on the left in the Republic, which means you won't have to drive round a weird roundabout, or anything, when you cross the border.

Good idea. Get out of Dodge. Who knew we’d ever be able to say that about leaving GB to go to NI.

cosmictanya wrote:

Good idea. Get out of Dodge. Who knew we’d ever be able to say that about leaving GB to go to NI.

My sentiments exactly. I remember listening to Radio 4 plays about sectarianism in the 80s and being pleased when the characters escaped to the mainland. Now I'm contemplating going the other way.

Quote :

I've just discovered they drive on the left in the Republic, which means you won't have to drive round a weird roundabout, or anything, when you cross the border.

The Irish border, yesterday.

You do seem to be politically on the run all the time. I'm not sure the EU is the best place for you to head for right now...

I believe my (and your, assuming you still inhabit Ambiguousville) right to exist will be protected longer there than in England.

I’m not entirely sure what that refers to, but it’s enough for me to sense you’re probably right.

They are all allowed their own policies on things. Something many Brits still refuse to get. Plus it’s not really about ‘everyone thinks the same’ but about a project of cooperation long term, rather than ‘oh god, France just f***ed up, it’s over’. Something tragically few Brits ever understood.

Of course there’s the basic commitment to things like the ECHR, something tragically few Brits realise that leaving will place them in a category of three - Britain, Russia, and Belarus. That is not a nice little group to join, or even to be at risk of being placed into by a future possible vote.

Good on you, good luck. Looking at family trees (only half of mine was always on this island), I’ve often wondered what exact thing made the others move. Sometimes it’s obvious, but at what point did vague unease become ‘we’re probably better off packing up and getting out of here’.

I spent all my late teens and 20s thinking everywhere in the world was better than where I was (including having brief visions of me becoming a Monk on Lundy Island or Caldey* or wherever it is - then I travelled a little and realised that most places have their problems, the politics is swings and roundabouts (as seen in the EU and America - and here to a degree) so it's better just to put up with what I'm used to and either be myself, or adapt a little. I guess I've done both to a degree.

I just think life catches up with you wherever you are. I thought Northern Yorkshire would be thrilling compared with the grim Black Country, but it isn't really. There are still really annoying people here. A lot of them from London.


*Recent reports suggest that boys were allegedly historically most welcome there.

But there are some nice people in this here London.

It's a proper melting plop.

No holidays planned for this year apart from a couple of days near Dublin for a family event.
(I did have a rather nice week in Mauritius back in March though)..

As for Mauritius...

Weirdest 'holiday' eva.

Nightjar wrote:

But there are some nice people in this here London.

There are. We are unfairly traduced. Mainly by the envious it has to be said.

As Uncle Albert Trotter said, ‘you’ll never meet anymore more honest and genuine than a south Londoner’. And that’s true.

And north of the river, there’s you always helping tourists negotiate Abbey Road, etc.

All the ‘DFL’ digs that the south coast natives go in for - they’re usually horrible people. Likewise the ‘tell it like it is crowd’ up north - horrors all.

We go to these places and lead by example - showing how to live, how to eat, how to dress, how to renovate, decorate, and garden, and all they do is sneer, pull up the drawbridge, and ostracise ex London children in local schools, beaches, and parks. B*stards, to a man and woman.

I’ll never forget going down to clear out my father’s house in Devon. The locals were absolutely vile to us. We had a couple ringing the bell and they began ‘how did he die?’ - literally looking for gossip. They didn’t even dress it up. They stepped forward as if they were on their way in. I had to put my arms out across the doorframe. I suppose they thought I should put the kettle on.

A little while later, another local was walking through the garden to take her dog for a sh*t at the stream that ran through the end of the land. I shouted out ‘what the **** do you think you’re doing?’ and she looked up at me as if I was in the wrong. I said ‘don’t let me see you back here again or I’ll be down there to smear your face in it’. I’ve never seen anything so blatant.

The local pub was hardly a welcoming place, despite the money we were spending there.

The only exceptions were the young local lads, who helped out, lifting, carrying, doing work, and brought beers and weed. We felt sorry for them having to live there with rest of the natives. There were three of them, all about 20 or so, who couldn’t do enough for my sister or me.