Up bright and early and heading out into a frosty dawn, I drove the few miles to the coast this morning to take some photos of out of season tourist tat.
I wound up doing a twenty mile beach walk and taking lots of pretty stuff, too, but I'll post that later.
I love tourist resorts in the winter.
They are as sad and tacky and empty and shabby as my life and I can't resist 'em.
Shazza's beautiful post about her own stretch of New Joisey coast last week made me determined to document my own local littoral, so this is the first installment of many (or at least several).
I was tempted to follow Shazza's lead and use black and white, but I feel that colour adds to the sheer awful hopelessness of a resort out of season.
This is Great Yarmouth - "Gem Of The East Coast" as they tell the tourists; "The Arsehole Of England" as it is known locally.
To set the scene, imagine a really tinny crap PA system playing Elvis, singing "You Are Always On My Mind".
That's what was playing on the pier.
Just for me.
Hot and cold snacks … Fab!
Fun …
A panorama of Yarmouth.
The Visitors Centre. Do you feel the warmth of the welcome?
American Highway … apparently …
Anyone with 20p to spare can look at the wind farm.Whee …
Much more tat coming right up.
10 comments:
Wow, how sad and a little creepy. Having lived in NJ for several years, I remember those spots on the sea--this isn't too far from it.
The wind farm is kind of cool, though.
Hee hee.
"Sad and a little creepy" describes me to a tee, Robyn.
Great Yarmouth, home to about six million record shops that sell four quid accordian music CDs for alcoholic pensioners.
We stopped at a cafe to have lunch in G.Y. and were almost frightened out of our skins by some psychotic blokes at the next table. One of them threatened to stab another in the hand with his fork.
What a classy joint.
Ah, that would be the Yarmouth Tourist Board AGM you stumbled on, Betty.
I still can't get over your statement: "We stopped at a café to have lunch in G.Y."
Was this some kind of CIA rendition thing you were caught up in?
NOBODY stops to eat in Great Yarmouth unless they're being threatened by the CIA or the Mafia or are doing it to win a fucking HUGE bet.
I know what you mean! I really do feel for Great Yarmouth because it is tourist dependent. I went in search of a gypsy fortune teller last December, but was told she was only there in the summer. Everything is seasonal!
Have you heard of Dowcra's? They make the best chocolates in Great Yarmouth. We especially love the chocolated dipped strawberries. And guess what. They don't make them in the winter!
When I first went to Great Yarmouth I thought it was a bit tacky, kinda like a cross between a carnival and a going-downhill Las Vegas.
joy
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The American highway is interesting - it's every man for himself on the roads here.
I live the concept of win farms - we have a guy named Ted Kennedy (you may of heard of him) trying to block one from being built, can you imagine. Who's pocket is he in?
Joy: Great Yarmouth is indeed a tacky and a deeply unpleasant place in the summer, but in the winter it can be shabbily charming (as long as you manage to avoid the violent, binge-drinking chavs that inhabit the place).
When I was younger, Docwra's used to make all the "Yarmouth rock" and you could tour their factory, but I think it's all shut down now.
Rich: I really wanted to have a go on the American Highway, just to experience what the real thing's like, but it was closed.
Dammit!
We have loads of wind farms around here and we love 'em. Ted must have his crooked daddy's old oil cronies breathing down his neck to oppose them.
Back in 2006, I spoke with someone at Dowcra's and he said that we can still watch people make rocks and chocs, except on Saturdays. Should be fun.
joy
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I would have been looking around for little men in little bowler hats to be found peeking around the corners at me. Those pictures made me go all David Lynch.
I have this sort of terror of big empty places like that. I'm always certain that something unspeakable is going to happen and I will be the only one who sees it.
My worst nightmares are in these kinds of settings. Empty, big places.
The rock factory used to be good fun, Joy. The sheer, mind-rotting quantities of sugar on display stagger the mind.
Maria: Sorry to compound your nightmares but this series is only going to get scarier.
Hee hee hee.
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