Welcome to Bexhill - home to beggars, butts and bikers

Is it my imagination or are more and more people asking me, and others, if we have any ‘spare change’?

Having worked in London for 20 years, you develop a nose for the patter and the con.

Even so, and after eliminating the usual suspects, I was astonished to be approached by a woman on a mobility scooter!

Another occasion, a woman asked me if I could help her with a train fare back to London as she had been “dumped” here – I didn’t have any money on me. I checked this out with the local PCSO because she said she had spoken with police officers in their vehicle by the station, so it appeared to be genuine.

Next – and I know this isn’t my imagination – the streets are filthy; never mind that they have gone beyond crumbling and are now breaking up.

Cigarette butts, dog pooh and pee, stains of I don’t know what. And everywhere, like a ginormous white splatter painting of an earlier heroic time, bird droppings.

Nor are the promenade and grass areas exempt.

No matter how thoroughly you think you have wiped up, you haven’t. Particularly on the grass.

Motorcycles – stop me if I’m boring you! The noise is deafening, very intrusive. Several times a day and especially in the evenings, presumably because there is less traffic.

Like cyclists, many don’t wear crash helmets. It’s a racing track for them.

I’ll just give one, lunatic, example: top of Parkhurst Road just out of sight, revving and revving, then roaring into view front wheel up, doing probably 60-70 miles per hour.