My wife and I retired to Eastbourne a fortnight ago and already we find it to be quite the pleasantest place we have ever lived.
We are discovering the coast walks and intend to explore the Downs. Last Sunday we delighted in a wonderful (and packed) concert by the London Philharmonic at which the orchestra were magnificent and the audience was well-behaved.
We came out to enjoy what must be the finest fish ‘n’ chips on the south coast. As I write, I am looking forward to tomorrow’s theatre trip to see “Dead Guilty.”
The shops are various and well-stocked and everyone we meet is cheerful and helpful. We can get to anywhere central in a ten minutes’ walk and, if we want to ride, the buses are prompt and frequent.
The micro-climate ensures we are one of the sunniest towns in England.
So what’s the matter with The Herald’s correspondents and all their talk on the letters pages about “a third rate resort,” moanings about litter and dogs, the bus service and anything else you care to mention?
Don’t you know when you’re well-off? These folk should count the multitudinous local blessings and, instead of writing carping letters, get out a bit more