How flat whites are replacing tattoo parlours in the ‘Margate of the South West’
All summer we will be taking the pulse of our most famous traditional seaside towns, examining the efforts being made to regenerate them, and opining on whether they are still worth visiting. This week, Paul Bloomfield explores Weston-super-Mare.
Maybe it was the epilepsy-triggering neon. Or the aural anarchy of robot squeals clashing with turned-up-to-11 Noughties “hits”. Or the unicorn-poo-hued candy floss I’d wolfed. How else to explain why I found myself leering dementedly at a sea of 2p pieces, pumping in shrapnel and praying for an avalanche of copper?
Till visiting Weston-super-Mare, I hadn’t realised coin-pusher machines still existed. (Full disclosure: I hadn’t realised 2p pieces still existed, either.) My inner snob shuddered. My inner nine-year-old gleefully surrendered to sugar-rush nostalgia.
You might say that the Grand Pier represents the unreconstructed face of this most kiss-me-quick Somerset resort. Except it isn’t – unreconstructed, that is. Opened in 1904, its pavilion was incinerated in 1930, then again in 2008.
The latest iteration is, in many ways, a metaphor for Weston. Its ghost train, donut factory and 500-plus games contrast with a £500,000 investment in all-electric go-karts, and interpretation boards discussing birdlife, war history and architecture. Likewise, chippies, crazy golf and cheap boozers rub shoulders with craft brewpubs and cutting-edge street art in town. Weston is an arcade game of two halves.
The excellent museum tells its rags-to-riches-to-rags story in illustrated detail. How Brunel’s railway, completed in 1841, brought boomtime to a fishing hamlet, seeding a honeypot that attracted nearly 80,000 on pre-Second-World-War bank holidays. But budget overseas trips popped the tourism bubble, and decline ensued. Weston went from super to having a… well, you can join the dots.
What’s it really like?
Nursing your oat milk flat white and gazing across two miles of golden sand from the terrace of Revo Kitchen – formerly an aquarium, latterly designated pier status – you could believe the Bristol-on-Sea hype. Weston’s property prices are a third lower than its larger neighbour, and waves of urban escapees are bolstering demand for artisan bakeries and alternatives to traditional entertainment. Witness the Front Room fringe theatre and hipster-baiting bars of Grove Village.
That image is tempered somewhat by the parade of tattoo parlours, throbbing bars and shops touting garish buckets and spades.
“A few years ago, consultants tried to rebrand the town as ‘more Waitrose and less Aldi’,” one local guffawed. “But Weston’s market isn’t people who go glamping in Cornwall. It’s people from Birmingham and Wales who come for a donkey ride and an ice lolly on the beach – and that’s OK.”
There are mutterings that Weston could emulate Margate, fellow fallen-on-hard-times seaside pariah come good through art. Since Banksy installed his Dismaland “bemusement park” in 2015, street artists have daubed buildings across town, topped up each year during Upfest. Trace the Weston Wallz trail to admire more than a dozen new murals.
Among other regeneration initiatives, tranches of cash – the latest a £20m chunk secured from government Levelling Up funds – have revived shop fronts along Walliscote Road, luring independent retailers including an excellent art gallery, Thai bistro and toothsome bakery. Opposite stands the Plaza cinema – formerly an Odeon – a 1935 Art Deco gem retaining its original Compton pipe organ, also being refurbed.
Stays are evolving, too. The once-weary Commodore on Sand Bay has been transformed into the boutique-y South Sands Hotel, exuding whiffs of, yes, Cornwall.
What’s not to like?
The Telegraph’s gentrification index ranked Weston Britain’s third worst seaside town. Running the gauntlet of amusement arcades and sports bars along Regent Street, it’s not hard to see why. At 9.30am, I watched a solitary punter shovelling coins into adjacent fruit machines amid migraine-inducing beeps. He wouldn’t be alone for long.
Haile Selassie, the emperor of Ethiopia from 1930 to 1974, loved the Art Deco lido – once Europe’s largest open-air pool – during his 1930s exile, but it’s now a gravelly lot occasionally hosting events. Enhancement work to create an 8,000-capacity venue should start this summer.
More apocalyptically dilapidated is Birnbeck Pier, northernmost of three sea-jutting landmarks, opened in 1867. Another beneficiary of Levelling Up investment, this Grade II-listed ghost should be restored and reopened to the public next year.
You’ll never want for tattoos or takeaways. The high street is literally and aptly sandwiched between two Greggs. The large, well-run and, when I visited, bustling Fridge of Free Stuff foodbank is a reminder of issues afflicting Weston. So is the Knife Angel currently towering over the Italian Gardens, created using 100,000 blades seized by police or donated during amnesties countrywide.
In fairness, few units stand empty. And Weston’s variety keeps things spicy. As Shakespeare, quoted on plaques above the high street’s Grade II-listed WHSmith, wrote: “Come and take choice of all my library, and so beguile thy sorrow.” Or, as street artists exhort: “Dream Big! Believe! Keep Going!”
Do this
Make a splash. Weston was way ahead of the wellness trend: as long ago as the 1830s, Dr Edward Long Fox promoted the health benefits of sea bathing here. Today, the enclosed Marine Lake provides a clean, free and – I can happily testify, even on an overcast May morning – warm spot for a safe sunset swim.
Then cool off at the craft beer bars of nearby Grove Village. The pick of the bunch are the Fat Head Brewery & Taproom – Lemon Head pale is a quaffable, reasonably priced cask ale – and Black Cat Micropub. Round off the evening with a board meeting at The Stable Games Room or swaying to a weekend world music performance at Grove Park’s bandstand.
Eat this…
At first glance, Weston seems the kind of place where getting five a day means ice cream, chips and candy floss, doner and donuts. So you’d imagine a menu featuring gochujang cauliflower and vegan West African peanut stew would raise eyebrows, if not hackles. Yet, Loves Cafe has been delighting locals with delectable meat-free morsels for well over a decade. Come for global flavours, stay for live tunes.
Too hipster? Grab a regular (though, let’s be honest, very large indeed) portion of proper chippy chips from old-school seafront Winstons Fish Bar, and munch contentedly with sand between your toes.
But don’t do this…
As more than one local muttered to me, somewhat euphemistically: “Things can get a bit… boisterous in the centre at night.” Walk directly inland from the Grand Pier and you’ll reach the kebab-and-cheap-pints zone along Alexandra Parade and beyond where, word has it, Saturday night’s alright for fighting – best sidestepped on a summer evening.
And don’t be tempted to dash across the sands and into the surf when the sea’s coming in. Weston reputedly experiences the world’s second-highest tidal range, regularly reaching nearly 15m; many an overenthusiastic visitor has been caught out by inrushing waves or sinking mud. Take note of warning signs.
From locals
“Before I came, my father-in-law said: ‘You’re not going to Weston-super-Mud? I wouldn’t go there if you paid me rent!’” recalls Mag, a resident for 30 years. “But there’s a lot of civic pride. They work hard at keeping the beaches and gardens clean. Even the bikers tidy up after themselves.”
“There’s an active community dedicated to making Weston better,” agrees Kelli Rapson, the owner of Sustenance bakery. “Historically, all the money has been just outside of town, whereas now more is being invested in the centre. It is Weston – you do get people hanging around – but they’re generally harmless. And it has the best sunsets anywhere!”
From tourists
“I like the fresh air – I always sleep better after I’ve been to Weston,” smiles Veronica Sawyer, enjoying a day trip from Gloucester. “It’s cheap and cheerful – I don’t want it too posh. I wouldn’t stay here for a week, but it’s great for a day trip, which cost us £20. What else do you get for £20 these days?”
“They spent a fortune paving the promenade, and they did an excellent job,” says Wendy, a Midlander who’s been visiting for three decades. “But they removed the lovely set of lights strung along the prom, which was the epitome of seaside-ness. The ones installed to replace them are rubbish.”
Get there
Weston’s a breezy half-hour chug from Bristol, with wooded hills lining horizons north and south. Direct trains from London Paddington take just over two hours. The seafront is a 10-minute walk west of the station.
