Visiting Eastbourne Pier
I have always liked piers, especially Victorian piers - it is a tragedy, I think, that so many of them have been washed away or torched - I still shiver when I see the pitiable ribs of Brighton's West Pier - I'd stood on the beach after the smoke and flames - the icy sea washed against the dark remnants of the pier - my feet sank down into the wet shingle -
Despite all of the tawdry layers of amusements since heaped upon these piers, I can still sense an aura of summers before 1914 about them -
In my mind's eye I see white paddle steamers approaching the pierheads - young men in boaters flirt with girls in filmy dresses - a band plays somewhere - the sky is blue -
In Re-loved, in Wareham, you might find grimy postcards showing such scenes - the postcard would be one of many, stacked up in a cardboard box - a blur of time would edge the post card - on the back of the post card, the simple message would make your heart melt -
My dad remembers dance halls near South Parade Pier, Southsea - he'd go there with his friends when the fourth race at the Dogs had been run - this would be in 1939 -
When I was in Eastbourne, I had to visit the pier - a blue notice assured me of finding pleasant friendly surroundings in the Victorian Tea Rooms - I walked out in the open, feeling the rain and spray upon my face, looking down at the sea - I forced myself to look inside the chamber of amusements - I saw the claw, hanging above a grey teddy bear -
I wondered if such piers might be portals - that you could see, if you looked hard enough, all the ghosts who walked there -
-
I have always liked piers, especially Victorian piers - it is a tragedy, I think, that so many of them have been washed away or torched - I still shiver when I see the pitiable ribs of Brighton's West Pier - I'd stood on the beach after the smoke and flames - the icy sea washed against the dark remnants of the pier - my feet sank down into the wet shingle -
Despite all of the tawdry layers of amusements since heaped upon these piers, I can still sense an aura of summers before 1914 about them -
In my mind's eye I see white paddle steamers approaching the pierheads - young men in boaters flirt with girls in filmy dresses - a band plays somewhere - the sky is blue -
In Re-loved, in Wareham, you might find grimy postcards showing such scenes - the postcard would be one of many, stacked up in a cardboard box - a blur of time would edge the post card - on the back of the post card, the simple message would make your heart melt -
My dad remembers dance halls near South Parade Pier, Southsea - he'd go there with his friends when the fourth race at the Dogs had been run - this would be in 1939 -
When I was in Eastbourne, I had to visit the pier - a blue notice assured me of finding pleasant friendly surroundings in the Victorian Tea Rooms - I walked out in the open, feeling the rain and spray upon my face, looking down at the sea - I forced myself to look inside the chamber of amusements - I saw the claw, hanging above a grey teddy bear -
I wondered if such piers might be portals - that you could see, if you looked hard enough, all the ghosts who walked there -
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