For the first twelve years of my life, I lived in Leigh-on-Sea, Essex. One of my earliest and also fondest memories were regular family visits to old Leigh (the part of Leigh that is between the beach and Leigh station), situated in-between the river and the railway track.  

There were two places in old Leigh that stood out, where we would often visit back in those days. The first was Osborne’s cockle shed, just opposite the Crooked Billet pub (significantly so because dad liked his beer which he drank while we all ate our cockles, also treating us, while keeping us quiet, to lemonade and crisps), which I visited on a few weekends in the year, along with my mother, father and sister and any visiting relative. The second was Leigh beach, where my mother would often take me and my sister, typically during the school summer holidays, packed with swimming costumes, floats, buckets and spades, along with a packed lunch she had prepared earlier, and there we would contentedly spend the best part of the day (it was not unusual that we would be parked in the same spot from the time the tide began to go out until in came back in again). It was also where I learned to swim. Often we would walk from our house. Sometimes we took the 23A bus, but always it meant walking down/up the steepish Hill by St. Clements Church.

These were, as I recall, happy times, and in recent years I have revisited Old Leigh on a few occasions and in doing so noting both changes as well as things that appeared to be much the same as I remembered from over sixty years ago. When earlier in the week my sister suggested we go out for lunch to Old Leigh, I did not need much persuading, especially as one who loves fish and seafood and enjoys the prospect of going down memory lane. First stop was “Osborne and sons Fishmonger and Seafood Hall” a facility that was not around back in the day although a lot on the Osborne site was as we remembered it. We were warmly welcomed by the friendly and attentive staff and once seated we were invited to order.

It was notable, that what was on offer was limited to mostly fish (although that offering was limited) and a more extensive seafood related selection. There was no dessert on the menu and if we wanted something alcoholic we were invited to pick up what we wanted from the Crooked Billet (a relationship that had passed the test of time). We each ordered a plate of cockles for starters. I ordered (as much out of intrigue due to the novelty) their special that comprised chips along with crab and crayfish and my sister ordered their seafood sandwich (pinching some of my chips). I was mildly disappointed, despite the table next to us raving over the special. We both thought the cockles were a bit too salty but we also recognised that these are now brought in with the salt added helping to preserve them, rather than being unloaded in their shells from their own boats and prepared onsite before serving fresh as once was the case and indeed seeing such was a highlight of our cockle shed visit.  Even so, we enjoyed the time we spent at the Seafood Hall, looking out over the estuary, albeit with the tide out.

We decided to move to our second childhood haunt along a cobbled road and lots of people – it was the middle of a hot day during the school holidays after all. We passed a number of pubs, eating places and tourist shops, many not there when we were children, before arriving at the same beach we spent all those hours at when we were children. There we sat, eating our ice creams, overlooking the beach and the mud, and then out to the far-off sea and passing ships and boats, but where fifty yards out was the once famous Leigh moat where boats once often passed along, whatever the tide state, and with enough water in it for children to be happily playing, much in the same way we did back in the day. Despite the crowds, people seemed to be in good humour and we even got to speak to a few. Then it was time to return to the car but not before passing Osbornes and buying a pint of salty cockles, some of which I ate, drained of some of the salt this time, for breakfast earlier, recalling the happy two hours I spent two days earlier visiting Old Leigh, along with fond recollections from a distant childhood past.