England-Essex Flag

Frinton-on-Sea >  Google™ Map  Essex Coat of Arms

England-Essex Flag UK > England > Essex

Sep 2020

Essex Coat of Arms

There's often a smaller, posher neighbour to the traditional seaside town and so it is in Essex with Frinton.

It's what Lytham St Annes is to Blackpool, what Overstrand is to Cromer and up in North East England, why it's only Whitley Bay's... Oh! That one doesn't always work[1].

Four miles east of Clacton-on-Sea, the fact that Frinton is fancy is already known but it's also remembered to be one of the driest places in Britain but not in a Moray kind of way.

Residents' objections to alcohol licences lasted until the year 2000 when their first, and only, pub opened. This, no doubt, down to them not wanting visitors going crackers like what they do back in Clacton.

Post- Lockdown 1.0™ restrictions apply making the sourcing of some sauce doubly difficult. That's a shame since it's a lovely day and this one's gagging for a pint.

[1] Possibly Seaton Sluice at a slightly posher push?

Greensward park and garden adds elegance to the Esplanade before a sloping path leads down to the beach.

That looks to be the only way down so while they might be a right bunch of Nimbys in Frinton, they're the fittest bunch of Nimbys in the country.

This stretch of more-than-serviceable sand is all kept in place by the now familiar, yet necessary, concrete, not that you'd necessarily know this was a seaside town.

Back up top, with your back to the saltwater, there are no 'musement arcades or tatty knick-knacks, neither. All excluded in the same puritanical charter that banned the booze when the town was founded in the 19th century, you see.

These high-rises aren't thought to be where they used to film The Bill. No, these ones come with sea-facing balconies and prohibitively high service charges, probably.

The  Star of India tempts you up to the high street and the chance of a tipple, perhaps? Feathers are being spat after that lug up from the beach.

Erm, no starters, thanks, and no mains, actually, just eight poppadoms and two bottles of Cobra, the big ones, ta. Each.

The high street is two halves of a game with the far end dedicated to things that people actually need and the unnecessary knick-knack providers concentrated nearer the coast.

Considering the surrounding residential, not shown, it's clear that nothing is exactly routine but it's no Shangri-La, neither, and rumours of Frinton's la-di-da-ness appear to have been greatly exaggerated.

Generations of objections to a town centre  pub are best explained as to all being nearly a generation ago but it's not like it was ever going to be the  Blind Beggar?

Not that these whistles are going to get wet, seating and spacing restrictions apply, remember, but it looks like the luck might be in at G&T's and of course that's our Porsche[1].

Oh! George and Theodore's Café so not that kind of G&T, then? Following the unsuccessful attempt at the Star of India, however, let's give it another go...

Erm, just a couple of lattes, thanks, but can you make them Irish? Stick a couple of whiskies in 'em, would you? Doubles.

[1] Yeah, right.