Lulled into improbable levels of optimism after my recent sunny promenade in Brighton, I was looking forward to taking in the sea air and enjoying some bracing walks in Bognor Regis on Saturday afternoon.
As the train ambled to its destination, the sky grew darker and the rain heavier. My first stop upon arrival in Bognor was the nearest Poundland for an umbrella which promptly turned itself inside out in the gusting wind.
Determined to take in some sea air, whatever the weather, I buttoned my coat up against the freezing gales and headed for the seafront.
It was wet. It was cold. It was, frankly, miserable.
Two walkers, a dog and a can of Fosters.
The rain was so insistent, that it was nearly impossible to stop the lens being covered with water.
Trudging slowly over wet sand
Back to the bench where your clothes were stolen
This is the coastal town
That they forgot to close down
Armageddon – come Armageddon!
Come, Armageddon! Come!
Everyday is like Sunday
Everyday is silent and grey [—]
Rusty overflow pipe.
No deck chairs available today.
Hardy walkers brace the rain.
Fishing boats by the pier.
Bognor’s much-diminished pier.
The old pier cinema/theatre now hosts a suitably garish amusement arcade.
Wet planks on the pier.
Some of the buildings on the pier are in very poor condition.
The pier used to be much longer, but the severe storms of 1964-1965 saw the seaward end structure collapsing into the sea, taking the pavilion building with it.
The rain on the lens adds an impressionist air to this beach scene.
Notice from the Pier Anagemen.
Crazy golf with a fnarr fnarr inducing ”Lucky Last Hole’.
The Belle Vue Hotel, full of 1970s seaside charm.
I stopped off for a coffee to get out of the rain. Here’s what I wrote in my notebook.
We lost the football game 0-4.
Like the nearby Littlehampton branch, Bognor Regis still retains its splendid steam-era semaphore signalling. These things please me disproportionately.
More Bognor photos: