One pleasing anomaly to the recurrent theme of chavs, children and chips is the northern pier and its delightfully deserted sun lounge. Like a Victorian greenhouse filled with plastic white chairs (loungers).
This is probably the quietest part of Blackpool, populated for the past hour or so by just a couple of grannies and a pair of deflated mums (children pinging off the walls in the arcade). Happily the Fosters/Stella bar was abandoned, giving the whole place a touch of Mary Celeste.
In fact the whole pier was quite a treat, with die hard over-60s sunning themselves through sunglasses, gritted teeth and protective glass on the promenade section. Occasionally shut in the event of high winds. Diving is not permitted.
The two clinically obese girls with very tight bootcut jeans and figure-hugging McKenzie gym vests synchronising to the responsive dance mat game in the arcade was curiously mesmerising, if not one of the most amusing things I’ve seen. I didn’t dare to look for longer than a couple of seconds.
From a safe distance. Substantial gold earrings look dangerous if you jump while wearing them.
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