Stepping off the train at Frinton-on-Sea, a blackboard advertising fresh cream teas and the absence of any vending machine made it clear I had travelled not only across the country but back in time. At first I thought it was a ten-year jump, but I soon realised it was far longer.
War-time ditties blared from pet shops and brass military anthems played from charity shop sound systems. Inside the Frinton War Memorial Club, or 'the Mems', the decor was frozen in time at the first VE Day. Queen Elizabeth II’s portrait hung above royal blue velour seats and a matching navy carpet. A wall of Union Jacks covered one wall, with an altar-like construction underneath bearing fake poppies, trophies, and a book titled Commando Call of Battle: The Best 10 Commando Comic Books ever!
The locals were noticeably wary of newcomers. Upon entering the Mems, heads turned, and I had to sign a form with my name, address, phone number, and the details of my contact Pierre, who held a temporary membership. The club’s £5 pints may have contributed to their territorial behaviour.
The Frinton Summer Season, a series of week-long plays, was held in a magnolia pebble-dash theatre opposite the club. Before the play, the audience – average age around 60 – rose to sing the national anthem with hands on hearts.
Seeking a change of scene, we headed to the beach for fish and chips from Young's Other Place. A small and large battered cod with chips and mushy peas cost £32. Ketchup had to be bought by the bottle.
Returning to the air-conditioned train to Liverpool Street felt like a relief. Walking through Bethnal Green, even perfumed with the stench of hot summer drains, felt like finally being back in 2025.
