Canvey Fantasy
Last Saturday the Shabby Seaside Appreciation Society went to Canvey. This man-made island at the end of the Thames estuary in Essex was the subject of a recent documentary (which I've not seen yet, but which you can read about in a recent post on Fantastic Journal). It was quite a grim day to visit quite a grim place, but we had a great time, despite the poor weather and the air of neglect.
It's hard to believe Canvey was once a popular seaside resort full of people; not just because peoples' holiday tastes have moved further afield, but also because there's a hulking great chemical refinery in the middle of it all. Canvey is one of those places that would probably seem very boring to most people, but I found something pleasing or interesting to look at in most corners we explored, whether it was discovering graphic design in the amusement arcades, trying to work out the purpose of bizarre industrial pipework in the refinery, or spotting an elegant egret stalking across the mudflats.
Downtown Canvey is a tiny crossroads of small streets filled with amusement arcades and ice-cream kiosks, which is a haven of fantastic lettering design, so I was pretty happy there.
There's an adorably tiny cinema, which was showing Oil City Confidential, amongst more mainstream fare, and a couple of nice examples of seaside moderne architecture in the shape of The Labworth Cafe (still a popular venue) and the Monico (now a tacky pub). However, there was a definite dearth of any useful shops to buy everyday things like cigarettes (I don't smoke; one of the people I was with does though).
That's pretty much all there is to downtown Canvey, and the best pub in the area is a good 30-40 minutes walk along the coast, past a couple of caravan parks and the refinery.
I could have happily spent the day just exploring the industrial architecture if we could have found a way in that didn't include getting caught up on razor wire or mauled by guard dogs, but it's not exactly a picturesque scene for a holiday, and the sight of rows and rows of holiday caravans huddled up against rows and rows of gasometers was quite an odd one. (Sadly I didn't take a photo of that for some reason.)
When we eventually made it to the pub, it was a welcome respite, not just from the increasingly desolate view but also from the increasingly inclement weather. The Lobster Smack is a rather cosy old-fashioned pub, once a popular haunt of smugglers, and apparently the model for a pub mentioned in Dickens' David Copperfield. It was full of local families having lunch, but we bagged a table, ordered lunch and waited for the others to turn up. Lunch was very cheap (two portions of fish and chips for a fiver) and very good, with huge portions. Some of the others were tempted by the amazing-looking selection of very reasonably-priced puddings, including a gooey slice of triple-decker chocolate cake which could have served about five people, but lunch had filled us up nicely, and we headed off back to the bus stop to catch the bus back to Benfleet station.
On the walk back to the bus stop we passed an old man in tight jeans and shiny shoes, running erratically down the middle of the road. "I'm the fastest man on the island!" he shouted back at us as he ran past. Unfortunately, despite the fact that there was at least 12 of us with a camera, no one got a photo of him! We did however spot this sign from the Canvey Island Independent Party:
No idea if they're better or worse than the Tories, though. We also passed a tiny thatched cottage, which looked almost incongruous amongst the twentieth-century bungalows. It dates from 1621, and is one of two octagonal cottages on the island.
We passed the other one on the bus, a tiny pink house with a funny-shaped triangular extension. It turns out this was a local museum, which I would have liked to have paid a visit to, as it seems likely to be a while before I go back to Canvey again.
More pics here.
Pics also from: Jodi | Arty | Kathy | Dee | Paul | David | Chris |
