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The longest pleasure pier in the world, to be precise. And, it’s to be found in Southend.

I’d never been to the Essex coastal town before, and as the yesterday morning’s damp weather looked like it would break for the afternoon, we decided to head out in the car, risk a mild soaking, and try our luck.

Southend is actually not by the sea but all, but technically sits on the north bank of the Thames Estuary. With all the usual seaside town childhood memory charm of other similar resorts, it’s the pier that sets the coastal settlement apart.

Records suggest that there has been a structure on the site of the current walkway since 1830. A steamboat extension was built in 1897 to bring in more visitors, while in 1929 the Prince George extension brought the pier to its current 1.34 mile length.

It’s certainly a survivor. Four fires (1959, 1976, 1995, and 2005), a boat crash, and a veteran of two World Wars, the pier stands defiant. The Victorian entrance building is long gone though, and has been replaced with a modern glass structure, which dates from the last revamp in 2003.

Walking the pier is almost compulsory when visiting Southend, so we paid our 50p entry fees and began the stroll along the aged planks, taking in views of the pockets of blue skies when we could get them. Two fishing boats stranded among the sandbanks by the low tide - which later made silhouettes against the pier in the wintry sunshine - contrasted with the views back to the neon-lit shore and broke up the grey expanse of water, which lapped beneath us.

The undercover benches sheltered us from the biting cold, while the pier train rumbled past at well-distanced intervals, sending shuddery vibrations through the rotting wood. The promise of a sandwich and a warming cup of tea kept us going to the pier head, where we rang the large bell, and posed for pictures, wearing the bell as a hat.

A disappointing lack of refreshments saw us turn around and head back to the shore earlier than we’d planned though, and as we walked back past the half-mile markers, we really wished we hadn’t left our gloves, hats, and scarves in the car. A stop for photos on a sandy makeshift jetty on the seafront fulfilled our creative urges, the sky, sun, and silhouettes seemingly posing for the perfect picture in our viewfinders and lenses.

Cups of tea and cakes fuelled and warmed our bodies, before we then headed home, for games of backgammon and Newmarket. Delicious Shepherd’s Pie followed by lemon pudding rounded off the day, and provided me with sufficient feelings of fullness for my train ride back to Ipswich.

Pancake partying, and 1980s reminiscing (courtesy of some shocking home videos) had given us more weekend fun on Saturday.

It was all so very enjoyable, but today, I feel absolutely battered.

Tesco has taken a lot of flak recently, but you can’t deny that out of all the UK supermarkets, it seems to be currently blowing the green bugle the loudest.

‘Together, we can make the little changes that make a big difference,’is obviously going all out for the green-conscienced shopper, and ‘cynical marketing ploy’ could be just three words which could be levelled at the shopping giant. Newly-introduced Green Clubcard Points soften bolster the eco-buyer’s basket too.

But, can the little changes really make a big difference?

Retailers have finally cottoned on to the idea of 100% biodegradable plastic carrier bags, and not only are bags from Tesco environmentally friendly, but the firm also gives the shopper one Green Clubcard Point every time a bag (carrier or other) is reused. Estimates point to the fact that over one billion fewer carrier bags will be used per year.

Printer cartridges are another area in which companies seem to have woken up to the environmental-damaging potential. Over 250 million discarded cartridges go straight to landfill each year, and apart from not printing off that vital document in the first place, recycling them seems to be the next best step. Again, a points incentive is offered by Tesco, with 100 Green Clubcard Points available per cartridge recycled. Or, if you’re of a charity mind, money can be donated to the British Red cross, therefore forfeiting the eco-earning points.

It may be ‘good to talk’, but while we’re all catching up with what Auntie Maureen did last weekend on our new gadget-laden mobile phones, there are another estimated 66 million more old ones that are in danger of being sent to the big call box in the sky. Not environmentally, either. In exchange for 500 Green Clubcard Points, Tesco offers to take these too, and save them from a twilight life in landfill. Again, the British Red Cross will benefit (to the tune of £5) if charity appeals more than having a green conscience.

The supermarket leader has introduced other eco-measures too.

The ‘Tesco Train’ now runs between its distribution centres at Daventry and Livingston, taking the stock of twenty-eight trucks. The figures are impressive. Apparently saving over 14,560 lorry journeys every year, five million fewer miles are driven annually, and moving stock by rail moves 180,000 tonnes of freight of the roads each year.

Those lorries which are still on the road are a little greener too. Tesco trucks now use a 50% biodiesel blend, ‘a renewable fuel made from vegetable oil blended with diesel and petrol’. The company claims that greenhouse gas emissions will be cut by more than 100,000 tonnes per year. More is to follow too, with the availability of biodiesel on its customer forecourts.

Recycling is also key at Tesco, with the company aiming to recycle 80% of its own waste by 2008; 9% up on its current figure.

In-store promotions include double Green Clubcard Points on energy-efficient products between 15 February and 8 April. With things such as changing light bulbs some of the simplest to do to give your home an instantly greener slant, this should prove popular.

But, all these measures are helpful only if enough people feel that they want to give their greener conscience an airing.

Remember, every little helps.

For fish and chips, that is.

We decided to go here for a late lunch today. Although the long takeaway queue was out of the door when we arrived (which must be a sign that the food is good), we managed to find a welcoming table inside. And, I’m pleased to report that the traditional fishcakes with thick-cut chips were yummy, the wine crisp and refreshing, and the restaurant pleasingly empty.

I can why one of the oldest fish restaurants in London has been serving its mix of cod, haddock, plaice and rock platters for discerning Londoners since 1871. On the strength of our visit today, I’m inclined to agree with most reviews I’ve read; it must be one of the best fish and chip shops in town.

Highly recommended.

The Sachsenring Trabant Universal (picture courtesy of arepeejee)

The Sachsenring Trabant, a sign of long-forgotten East German communism, celebrated its fiftieth birthday this week. A motoring legend alongside classics such as the original Mini, Citroen 2V, and Volkswagen Beetle, over 3 million examples were manufactured in pre-unified East Germany, over thirty-four years from 1957 to 1991.

Okay, the Mini managed a forty year production run, the 2CV forty-two, and the beloved Beetle racked up sixty-two years. But, for a car that was born almost by accident, and was conceived as a three-wheeler in a similar style to the Reliant Robin, the Trabant achieved much beyond its intended station.

Now very much a cult car, the ‘Trabi’ has a devoted following, with enthusiasts the world over happy to sing its (at what first appear dubious) praises. With its two-stroke petrol engine, the refinement box was clearly left unticked, on early models at least. A licensing agreement with Volkswagen enabled Sachsenring to manufacture a 1043cc Polo engine, which was drafted in for the 1990 model year. In a seemingly ironic twist, Sachsenring’s Zwickau factory now produces contemporary VWs.

And, just like its earlier West German contemporary, the Beetle, the Trabi underwent minimal changes year after year. The cleaner Polo engine was the most radical overhauling the little car had seen since the introduction of the model that most represents late twentieth century Eastern Europe, the P601.

But is it possible that older cars can have a green conscience too? Maybe the Trabant was more radical than first thought.

The bodies were formed of ‘Duraplast’, a composite material made up of Phenolic resin (similar to Formica or Bakelite) reinforced with cotton fibres and ground wood pulp. More durable for car manufacture than GRP (Glass Reinforced Polyester), Duraplast panels could be pressed, as in conventional steel car production.

There was another reason for the low-tech production process too; Russia had stolen most of the steel presses from East Germany during the Second World War. Although the East Germans had little choice but make their cars with this material, it was often seen as a particularly communist technology, and therefore wasn’t universally popular.

Of course, the resin, cotton fibre, and wood pulp mix could also mean that the tiny Trabant was one of the first cars to use recycled waste in its construction. Ironically though, the resulting material is notoriously hard to recycle itself. Maybe the small mechanical East German’s environmental scorecard should be docked a few points.

But, then again, the later Volkswagen-derived engine produced less harmful emissions than its loud, smoky forerunner. So, could another string be added to the Trabi’s environmental bow?

Whichever way you look at it though, keeping an old car on the road must be viewed as a form of recycling. Admittedly, that can only be considered recycling to a certain point, but stringent annual vehicle tests operate in most European countries, and emission levels are closely monitored to wheedle out any catastrophic polluters.

And, let’s face it. The world’s environmental needs aren’t going to change overnight. Keeping an older car running at least makes owners like me feel a little noble about not having bought a brand new car, and the potentially-damaging environmental manufacturing processes and by-products that go with it. That’s not to also mention the spares and repair specialists being kept in work.

Invariably, older cars can also have more ‘character’ than newer ones, and, if their owners are enthusiasts, can give a great sense of satisfaction and pride.

So, maybe this little automotive piece of communist history is worth a second look. It has charmed thousands of owners, and, I can see why. Though not in production any more, against the odds, it survives.

And besides, I think the estate-like ‘Universal’ models have a certain utilitarian coolness about them.

Happy 50th, Trabi.

It’s been five weeks since I last had my hair cut, and as it was in danger of making me resemble a mushroom with it’s growing sides and resolutely refusing-to-get-any-longer-top, I decided that today, I would get it trimmed. It has grown differently the last few years; the texture has changed, the sides seem to grow thicker, and the 33 year-old hairline is slowly but surely receding.

As to where to go, it’s never a hard decision to make. There’s an independent place in Romilly Street, which I’ve been going to, almost exclusively, for the last few years. Its wood-panelled walls are lined with black and white rock star pictures, and the selection of quirky and bright framed postcards add to its charm. The charge of £5 is very reasonable too, beating some places back home. It’s true, for that money, a basic cut is all you get, with no finishing touches or styling products. But, when you don’t have that much of a barnet to cut, why pay over the odds?

But, also vying for my money is Mr Toppers in Old Compton Street, just literally around the corner. Charging £6, it’s already on a losing footing, but with its happy (and sometimes loud) gaggle of largely Aussie and New Zealand girls, it’s sometimes more fun, with interruptions to the chirpy banter welcome, should you feel you want to contribute.

And, if you should fancy ‘Doing a Britney‘, it’s certainly the place to go. Last time I visited, I was trimmed by a Spanish guy, who was talking to one of the bubbly girls about her most recent piercing. I was trying not to eavesdrop, what with one of London’s commerical radio stations playing overhead, and the shop’s generally loud volume, but the conversation proved too intriguing. ‘What were you talking about?’, I asked? I soon wish I hadn’t posed the question.

‘We were talking about her piercings,’ the guy answered back. ‘Do you have any?’, he then enquired. ‘No,’ I replied, not really knowing where the conversation was going. He then explained that there was a body piercing and tattoo parlour ‘downstairs’, and then asked if I was sure I didn’t want any.

And there was me thinking a barber’s shop was just a barber’s shop. How very 2006. The conversation went a little quiet after that.

Not qute as quiet as the time I went into the Toni & Guy Academy in New Oxford Street, though. For a cheap £5 cut, I had to let a trainee let loose on my hair. As I normally have a grade 2 clip around the back and sides, with a short scissor cut on top, and as ‘clipper’ is a dirty word at Toni & Guy, it took over two hours. Each of the hairs were literally cut by hand, and after the bleached blonde punk-gothic trainee had cut her finger after the first five minutes, I knew it was quite literally going to be painful.

It does have other uses though. Some Londoners use it as a dating service. Cute.

But, as I didn’t fancy following the latest attention-craving popstar trend, I went back to the Romilly Street place today.