The Idler

Withernsea

So crap even the sand on the beach left about 10 years since.
Like a bad 50’s holiday to the worst seaside resort, Withernsea is where the Neandertal still has yet to become extinct.
Everything is run down, its just dreadful.

Why anyone would want to go on holiday there is beyond me. It’s difficult to get to, and the food on offer is that of the worst seaside fare-fish & chips, or would you like sausage and chips, or perhaps just chips, oh you like French food? French Fries perhaps?

Most exciting part-the amusement arcades (not). Highlight of the year is some dreadful day in August when they drag some bad pub bands who are willing to play in the mini park between the amusement arcades and the sea front.

Sit on the “beach” and look at the muddy water, or marvel at the ships on the horizon pumping out the oil ridden water from their bilges, and throwing there exotic litter & sewage overboard.

Walk along the tide line and marvel at the exotic litter-watch children run up to their pubescent mothers showing them an empty German Condom packet.

A weekly market is where you can buy all of those most needed cassette copies of Humbersides finest country & western singers, or perhaps imbibe in another packet of chips.
Wander around dodging snotty families with pushchairs, and grannies with pull along trollies, marvel at the chinese wares hawked by the Benefit Cheats. Haggle over such classy items as the fibre optic clock with real cat fur on its face… Jesus wept.

M Bond

Withernsea, needles, rats and underage sex

With…a delightful seaside resort with the character of a corpse, and with Hull just down the road, what a wonderful part of the UK to be!

Numerous arcades, full of bandit addicts, alcoholics passing time before the pub opens and 12 year old girls dressed like they are on their way for a night on the street corners of Hull.

Two clubs, if you can call them clubs, both playing shit teeny boppy music and playing host to the many drugged up, pissed up, peodophilic wankers that you get on a Friday night in this town.

So much for a beach, rats, dog shit, litter and needles are scattered over the broken bottles and rocks they call sand.

Its even better in the summer, with the place swarming with townies taking a holiday from Hull, need I say more?

Nicola.