We didn’t actually walk the eighty-one miles of the Essex Way, but I can recommend ten good things done the Essex way:
Wivenhoe
[C17 pargetting, like a huge custard cream]
There are so many old railway stations and lines which once linked the small towns of Essex but most are disused, repurposed or have simply disappeared. Wivenhoe station (1863) is at the end of the line yet still has a slow but regular train to London Liverpool Street. Or, looking at it the other way, London is directly linked to lovely Wivenhoe (artists, makers, books, nice buildings, bow windows and pargetting). Lucky London.
Maldon bookshop
[one of my all-time favourite scenes in stained glass, in All Saints. Maldon]
Maldon, which is much larger than Wivenhoe, once had a very fancy railway station but it is now marooned next to a retail park. Still, the two main churches have lovely C20 stained glass and are open all day long, there’s the Hythe Quay, and there’s the excellent independent Maldon Books opposite St Peter’s where I bought The Seaside which came with a stick of rock.
Tollesbury Wick
[lightship, very much mired in the mud]
We didn’t see the Maldon Salt saltings, but we did look at the other-worldly/Great Expectations marsh and saltings landscape at Tollesbury Wick. In an ideal world, we would have flown over it to appreciate the labyrinthine reed beds, salt marshes and mudflats.
Fish and chips in Frinton
I’ve long been fascinated by Frinton-on-Sea, not least by the fact that the locals banned pubs and fish and chips shops for years, assuming they would inevitably lower the tone. The first pub opened in 2000 and the first chippy arrived, to outrage, in 1995. And guess what, the revolution didn’t happen. The fish and chips are brilliant. It’s ironic that they serve curry sauce in Frinton as I’ve found that there is some serious curry sauce snobbery around (let’s be honest, in the south), and fish and chips shops which consider themselves a cut above won’t deign to serve it. (The famous chippy in Aldeburgh announced in 2020 that they were now selling it. I don’t know at what cost to their dignity.)
Modernist buildings in Frinton
Frinton did, however, allow in developers in the 1930s, and it was the Frinton Park Estate, a unique Modernist housing scheme lead by Oliver Hill, that I really wanted to see. It was an experiment in living and I can’t decide if it is great or awful. Ideas of fresh air, light, hygiene, and white houses with flat roofs and Crittall windows are all very well in warm climates where the rain, sea air and pollution don’t ruin the whiteness, lack of central heating isn’t an issue, and roof leaks don’t happen. On the other hand, I like their contemporary boldness, uncompromising newness, curves, lines, simplicity. Some of the Frinton houses are in good repair, most have lost their Crittall windows (crucial to the appearance), and some poor decisions have been made in terms of modernisation but, as the largest group of Modernist houses in England, it’s well worth a walk round. (Only around 40 of the planned 200 houses were built, so there is also a lot of Tudorbethan/bungalow neighbour incongruity.)
Groovy 1970s wall art
Something else which has mostly fallen out of favour taste-wise is the public wall art of the 1960s and 1970s by sculptors such as the prolific William Mitchell. A lot of his work has been removed or demolished, but efforts are being made to save what’s still in situ. I grew up with Henry Collins and Joyce Pallot’s BHS mural in Stockport, so enjoyed seeing something similar in Colchester (1976). Great local details, nice new location opposite the Curzon cinema.
Cinema i
I very much like Curzon cinemas; the one in Colchester is in the former Keddie’s department store which was built late 1960s so has very stylish staircases. We saw Plan 75 which I thought was brilliant, beautifully made, a shockingly possible solution to an ageing population. Simon felt it laboured the point, but I think he found it just too depressing; I have no problem talking about end-of-life decisions and plans, and this film opens up all sorts of important discussions.
Cinema ii
I abhor Tim Martin’s politics and really wish he’d just stick to saving important old buildings and turning them into watering-holes with astounding carpets (it’s funny that several Wetherspoons are in former Methodist chapels). The Playhouse in Colchester was built in 1929 as a theatre but was soon converted to a cinema when the glamour of Hollywood trumped local cheeky chappie and principal girl acts. It’s still got all the original fixtures and decorations, balcony, boxes, stage, and it’s quite a place to have a 20cl bottle of Prosecco - or indeed the glam Tanqueray Spritz and Peach Blush Spritz which were delivered to our table, sent remotely by Phoebe via the app which amused us greatly.
Municipal planting
I’m always singing the praises of municipal flowerbeds and floral roundabouts in France, so it’s good to see nice, colourful planting, the Essex way.
Happy Sunday!
I want to do an Essex road trip now 🚗
I love the links you put on here! The Playhouse reminds me of a Wetherspoons pub in Cardiff, called the Prince of Wales. It was a theatre and is well preserved upstairs.