It's the nearest bit of sea.

Did I ever tell you of the time I went to Maldon on Sea. When I rearranged my hours at work, to get a day off each week, I had great plans of going on adventures with my camera.  As you will realise if you read my last post, those plans did not come to fruition, however early on when I was full of enthusiasm I did manage to get out of the county.  I wanted to see the sea.  I calculated the nearest sea would be at the obviously named Maldon on Sea.  It has sea in the towns name.  There must be sea there right?  Remember this, there may be a test later.
Maldon on Sea is very easy to get to.  It doesn't take long.  There is a nice little car park behind the high street that is very easy to find, and does not cost a lot of money.  This is probably a lovely little town in the summer.  Sadly I didn't go in the summer.  I went in the second week of January, and, despite it being very sunny, it was bitterly cold.  The was a wind whistling up the estuary which seemed to be delivered directly across the North Sea, from the frozen fjords of Norway.  However, I had come prepared.  I had on my flat cap, although I had left my whippet at home, and I also had a very cheap but efficient pair of gloves I bought when I had my one, and only, let me emphasise, ONLY, snowboard lesson.
Now when you head out of the carpark there some very clean, if very dated, public toilets.  If you are a born again diabetic, and it's a very cold day, this is a very welcome facility.  Full marks Maldon.  I'm sure the phone numbers on the back of the cubicle door will come in very handy, although I will need to look up some of the words on Urban Dictionary.  After a quick pitstop (check spelling) you head out onto the high street to be presented with a very old church. 

I stop to take some pictures, but the locals stare intently. This may because there is not a lot to do on a cold January morning in Maldon, or perhaps they think I might be casing the joint to steal the church silver, or perhaps it is that someone taking their gloves off to take photos in sub arctic temperatures must clearly be a madman, and surely we need to all the local constabulary, or the men in white coats.  The staring becomes to much so I make my excuses, and leave, like a reported from the Sunday tabloids infiltrating a wife swapping ring in Chingford.
I head down the main street noting the vast number of charity shops, and coffee establisments.  I decide I'm not here to shop or drink coffee, so I head in the direction I believe will be the quickest to see the sea, it is called Maldon on Sea after all! Remember this.
I duck down a side street, and the town starts to get a bit older, and has a more friendly feel to it.  Judging by how people take care of their properties they love this town.  It is starting to grow on me too, but I do love a good seaside town so that isn't too surprising.  I turn a corner, and I see ships.  Definitely ships, ocean going, barnacle bottomed, yo ho ho and a bottle of rum, ships.  This must be where the sea is.  I don't know if other families do this, but when we go near the coast we have this unwritten game of who can see the sea first. Whoever shouts "I can see the Sea!", first is the de facto winner of this game.  Of course I am on my own today, and I am not going to shout out "I can see the Sea!";  the locals already have me pegged as a nutter remember!  But soon I am sure I will be able to see the Sea, at Maldon on Sea; Sea is in the name, as you may recall from the start of this post.  As I head towards the ships I know that soon I will round a corner where these ships are moored, and my quest will be fullfilled; and lo I approach the quay.

 The sun is low in the sky and temporarily blinds me, but I press on.  I dip into the shade of a olde worlde looking pub; the sun sin't over the yard arm, but they are serving breakfast, but no! Focus!  I'm not here to eat breakfast at a pub, I'm here with one purpose, and it is nearly met, my eyes adjust to the bright, morning Essex sun, and at last I can see....mud!  MUD!! Lots, and lots of MUD!!! Mud as far as the eye can see!!!!  My heart sinks a little.  The icy wind that cuts through me cannot penetrate the deepening mire of disapointment, a mire surely thicker than the vast expanse of gloopy, gloopy mud that oozes before me.  This can't be it.  I can't have come all this way to see something that I could have walked down the road to see between the banks of the dying River Colne.
A couple walk past, and look at me with pity.  I can almost hear them whispering to each other when that have passed me "I bet he thought he would see the Sea!"
I decide this can't be it.  There must be a place I can see the sea in Maldon on Sea; it's in the name after all!
I walk past the ships, petulantly trying not to admire them; blaming them for my fog of sea-less disappointment.  I pass the harbour office.  I'm tempted to go in an ask where the sea might be found, but the swarthy looking men hanging around smoking, make me feel inadequate, and so I pass on with what I hope is a nonchalant air.  As I turn the corner I am met with what I now know is Promenade Park. Along one side of this lovely park, and it is lovely, is a vast sea wall stretching into the distance.  A sea wall, SEA wall.  I can barely make out where it ends.  It is surely longer that Southend on Sea's pier; for the record Southend on Sea has a lot of mud too, but you can usually see the Sea, and it also has sea in it's name, and richly deserved too!
I set out along the sea wall.  To one side is the pretty Promenade Park with it's vast expanse of lawns, and flowbeds, it's play parks, and boating lakes; to the other side of the sea wall is, well erm, mud (I hate to mention it again, but mud is as mud does).  As I progress along the concrete walkway, dodging dog drops, I see a figure emerge at what must be the end of the see wall.  A vast figure looking out to erm mud. 

As I draw near I can make out the figure is armed and dangerous. It appears to be a warrior with sword held aloft.  I expect he is there to deter the invaders that would have had to wade waist high in dirt, because as you might have guessed when I get to the end of the sea wall I can see nothing but miles of mud shimmering in the winter sun.  I sit dejectedly leaning against the statue of Maldon on Sea's ancient protector.  I'm not going to see the sea today!
Slowly I plod back to town.  I look around the charity shops, and drink coffee. 
I can't be downhearted for long.  Maldon on Sea is a really lovely little town.  I will come back one day, when it's warm.  An I will bring my children.  We will drink in the pub that announces Ping Pong as one of it's main attractions, and we will eat ice-cream in Promenade Park while we watch the model boats on the boating lake. And I will regale them of the time I came to see the Sea, and they will look on me in wonder, and observer
"Why didn't you wait until the tide came in you silly twonk?"