SELDOM have I read such a tirade of hatred and loathing as that of Mr Malcolm Rasalas’s letter of February 24.
Had I not known better I would have totally failed to recognise the town into which I was born and have lived ever since. Hideously ugly, a monstrosity, squalid? Where on earth is this man’s sense of grace and proportion.
We have one of the finest seafronts in the south and a pier that, albeit in need of a dose of TLC, is among the most impressive in the country.
Brighton’s beaches are crowded whereas ours are empty (which I take issue with) which is all the fault of our MP and our backward looking councillors, apparently.
Could this not have something to do with the somewhat risque reputation that our sister resort has acquired over the years, coupled with the seemingly ever growing need for sensationalism and instant gratification which is so apparent among many people today?
He complains of ’deathly grey pensionism’, which is very easy to depict, if that is what you wish to do.
All you have to do is look for three or four old people on a seat, one asleep, with his mouth open, and you’ve got it, Eastbourne! God’s waiting room!
But turn the camera 180 degrees towards the beaches where families are to be seen, with young children playing nearby, young people, girls in bikinis, some of them even topless, are sunbathing or swimming, showing an entirely different image of the town, and I do know what I am talking about, having spent my working life on our seafront as a boatman.
I could go on, but enough is enough. One thing puzzles me however. why would someone with such an abhorrence of our town and so many aspects of, choose to live in it?