Good morning Seaford

Brighton is said to resemble a town helping the police with its enquiries. Seaford, to the naked eye, sometimes looks like it’s already been charged, convicted and banged up in solitary. But I chose to live in the place, and even though there are things about it that make me want to run away forever, I don’t. Having given the matter serious thought, I can only conclude that I quite like it here.

My big worry about Seaford is that it doesn't seem to care as much about its identity as, say, Lewes – which has a smaller but much more vocal and mobilised population. Most of its residents are prepared to burn effigies of anything that annoys them. We don’t do things like that in Seaford; perhaps we should. You get some kindling and a can of petrol, and I’ll start a blog.

I thought I’d get the ball rolling by analysing what I like and don’t like about my adopted home town. The plan is to post on here whenever I feel the urge to share my outrage or delight about goings-on in our bizarre and very windy little corner of East Sussex. But be warned: I am a Seaford resident now. There will be times, I am pretty sure, when I just can’t be bothered. You understand.


10 things I like about Seaford

1. Woolworths. In our charity-shop high street, this is our own little John Lewis. It’s got everything you need, and a lot you don’t. Go in for batteries and some envelopes and you’ll generally emerge with a fluffy hot water bottle, a novelty bird box and a Spiderman outfit.

2. The Bottle & Basket. A lot of good retailers have given up on Seaford, but thank god we have a half-decent wine shop. As for other independent retailers: Intersport is OK, but doesn’t quite have that homely C&E Sports feel. Paul the fishmonger is a civic treasure. I like the health food shop, even though it smells of pills. We need a decent deli, though.

3. Cuckmere Haven. Even the tourists can’t spoil it. No matter how many times you admire the shimmering meanders, the view doesn’t get any less breathtaking. Which brings us to …

4. Seaford Head. And not just because it gives the best vantage point for the Seven Sisters. It’s got little secret pockets to explore, great walks, an amazing golf course if you like that kind of thing, and a steep concrete road which lends us mountain bikers some very welcome gravity. (Tip: do it without braking.)

5. Critters. I can look outside my window and see hedgehogs, foxes, woodpeckers, squirrels, bats, wood mice, red-legged partridges and kestrels. Without trying very hard, I can also find herons, egrets, rabbits, oystercatchers, skylarks, owls, frogs and, if I’m lucky, a sunbathing adder. That kind of stuff is important to me.

6. It’s possibly the least cool place in Britain. That’s a good thing. Don’t get me wrong, I love being close to the bright lights of Brighton, but I can do without the city’s self-obsessed swagger. Boring people move to Brighton, get every part of their body pierced and assume that means they have a personality. Nobody moves to Seaford to be cool. Which is, well, kind of cool.

7. The Seaford Half Marathon. 13 miles of relentless, beautiful and exhausting off-roading. Taking part should be a condition of living here.

8. Bumping into Denis Healey. All true Seafordians see themselves as friends and associates of the loveable ex-Chancellor.

9. The train links. We should count ourselves lucky – we have a nice little station, trains that run regularly and on time, even if they’re populated by hyper 14-year-olds who’ve had too much Lucozade and want to achieve their day’s quota of swear words in the brief interlude of freedom between school and home. Feel free to give funny looks to anyone who gets off at Southease station.

10. Beach combing. The rock pools at Hope Gap are great for all kinds of marine life. Further along, the beach doesn't have quite the variety of shells I remember from when I came here as a kid, but you'll still find mermaid's purses, intriguing pebbles and the remains of frightening-looking fish. Oh, and depending on the circumstances, enough wood to construct a sort of wicker man, which locals could set fire to and dance around while confused Belgians speed off in their camper vans.



Things about Seaford that make me despair

1. The “sea defence”. The sand and the groynes of what was once a gently-sloping adventure playground are entombed under thousands of tonnes of imported rubble, stacked at a perilous angle of 45 degrees. Step two paces into the surf and you’re already up to your neck. Thanks, Southern Water.

2. Morrisons. I genuinely believe you should be able to vote for your town’s supermarket in a democratic election, and my rosette would say Waitrose. The evidence against the big M: shrink-wrapped peppers. Flavoured couscous. A whole aisle devoted to Yorkshire puddings. Signs for “pop”.

3. Seafront flats. I’m talking about monstrosities like Dane Heights, The Viking etc. Perhaps early Nordic visitors to Seaford raped, burned and pillaged, but at least they didn’t erect towering monolithic structures that would disgrace even the least ambitious Soviet satellite state.

4. The Newhaven incinerator. Soon, we will be burning the rubbish generated by Brighton (and, to be fair, ourselves) and breathing in the toxic fumes that this generates. It’s not too late to make those responsible for this planning atrocity feel pretty shitty about what they’ve done to us. They’ve abused local democracy to push this through, and nobody has taken them to account. Thanks, Tories. Thanks, Lib Dems.

5. The town centre after about 7.30pm. That’s when we officially hand over to the night watch of semi-naked, loudmouthed, teenage trolls. No doubt they’ll all undergo a miraculous metamorphosis and grow up to be fine, upstanding citizens who make huge contributions to society. It’s boring watching them pupate, though.

6. A lack of. Fill in the rest of the sentence yourself. You could try “a cinema” or “a decent swimming pool” or “a farmers’ market” or “choice of secondary school” or “men’s clothes shops” or “a proper newspaper” or “evidence that Lewes District Council even knows we exist”.

7. The Salts. Yeah, yeah, yeah, it’s a great big patch of open land and we should be grateful for it and it’s better than a housing estate and it’s somewhere for the kids to let off steam. But it’s so bloody bleak. The last thing I’d want to do there is indulge in “recreation”. There are war cemeteries which feel jollier.

8. People who moan about the town. That's why I'm not going to reach 10 on this list. I can't stand the attitude of people who think they're somehow better than where they live. If you're not part of the solution, you're part of the problem. So just shut up.

Feel free to suggest likes and dislikes of your own. I take it you have them.