The Last Sunset: A Eulogy for Britain's Dying Seaside Towns
Ah, the British seaside town, that once-glorious bastion of fish 'n' chips, donkey rides, and candy floss. A place where the sun never shone, but nobody cared because the arcades were open and the beer was cold. But let's cut the crap, shall we? The British seaside town is dying, and it's not going quietly. It's gasping for air like a fish out of water, and the stench of decay is overpowering.
The Grim Reality
According to the Office for National Statistics, over 5.3 million souls are trapped in these coastal wastelands. Between 2009 and 2018, 50% of these towns saw a decline in employment. That's right, half of them are sinking faster than a toddler in quicksand. And let's talk about age. In small seaside towns, 30% of the population is over 65. It's like God's waiting room with a view of the ocean. A view that's about as uplifting as a funeral dirge played on a kazoo.
The Deprivation Derby
You want deprivation? These towns have it in spades. Two-thirds of them are in the higher income deprivation category. In the east coast of England alone, 85% of coastal towns are in this miserable bracket. It's like a Dickens novel, but with more seagulls and less charm. The only "Great Expectations" here are for the next round of layoffs.
The Employment Circus
And what jobs are available? Well, the largest employment sector in small seaside towns is "Accommodation and Food Services." That's right, your career choices are between flipping burgers and flipping mattresses. And don't even get me started on the "Health" sector. That's just a euphemism for taking care of the aforementioned geriatric population. You might as well put "Professional Bedpan Emptier" on your resume.
The Youth Drain
The young ones are fleeing like rats from a sinking ship, and who can blame them? With poor transport links and even poorer job prospects, staying is like choosing to drown when you can see land. The result? A brain drain that leaves these towns even more deprived and desperate. The only "youth culture" left is a gang of seagulls harassing tourists for chips.
The Political Farce
And where are the politicians in all this? Oh, they're around, making empty promises and taking seaside selfies. But when it comes to actual change, they're as useful as a chocolate teapot. A recent report warned that ignoring these towns could lead to a "political tidal wave." Well, bring it on, I say. Maybe then someone will pay attention. Maybe then the clowns in Westminster will pull their heads out of the sand and realize that the tide is coming in, and it's not bringing treasure.
The Final Wave
So here we are, at the end of the pier, staring into the abyss. The British seaside town is not just dying; it's already dead, and we're just poking the corpse with a stick. But don't worry, there's always Blackpool. Ah, Blackpool, the cockroach of seaside towns, destined to survive even a nuclear apocalypse. A place where the lights are bright, but the future is dark.
In the end, the sun has set on the British seaside town, and all that's left are the shadows. So pour one out for Skegness, Weston-super-Mare, and all the other fallen soldiers. And if you listen closely, you can hear the ghostly echo of a Punch and Judy show, laughing at us all. Laughing as the waves come in, eroding the cliffs and washing away the last remnants of a bygone era.
Rest in peace, you glorious, miserable bastions of Britishness. You will be missed, but mostly forgotten. And as the sun sets on this sad, strange tale, let's raise a glass to the end of an era. An era that was never as good as we remember, but will always be better than what comes next.
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