On the edge - 'the Kent Riviera'

Perhaps it's because many of my early experiences were in 'edge' places, the windswept margins that form the North Sea coast of England and Scotland, that I feel an immediate sense of affinity whenever I visit a new place along that margin. It has been described as the Naked Coast*, an apt image for so many places which feel unprotected, exposed to the harshest elements. These places often feel to be far from anywhere, sometimes a bit run down, the people seem to be carrying the battle scars of a long struggle to survive, physical and mental. Given that the landscape is often overlaid with vast holiday parks with their serried rows of white and pale green mobile homes all pointed towards the sea, I can only assume plenty of other people feel this same connection. Who needs long sandy Mediterranean beaches, drenched in sunshine and lined with sparkling white villas? 

Just as the wide, freezing, grey waters of the North Sea begin to be funnelled into the even murkier, overcrowded Straits of Dover with their promise of transport to warmer climes, lies the Isle of Sheppey. It is very much an 'edge' place, physically separated from the Kent mainland by a wide channel, only made accessible by a couple of amazing bridges. The warning to drivers of a 'blind summit' on the 30 metre high Sheppey Crossing adds to the air of separation in entering a world beyond! Until 2006 the crossing had to made on the other feat of engineering, a lifting bridge which can raise railway and road to allow shipping to pass beneath.

I became fascinated with this place when into my collection of house plans came a brochure from Wards Construction which promised 'uniquely different homes' in Kent. In 1975 they advertised a development in Warden Bay on the Isle of Sheppey which included their 'Riviera' design. It would be another 47 years before I actually visited this place, but something in the images of these new homes challenged my sense of there being a link between design and place. Long before a second home on the Costa Blanca became an option, my perception of life in the sun was informed by Cliff Michelmore's 'Holiday' programmes on Sunday afternoon TV, stories of half built hotels and of course the 1972 classic film, Carry On Abroad, which magnified all the stereotypes. Yet, here were houses being built which according to the developer had 'pantiles and archways, reminiscent, we think, of typical Spanish villas'. The marketing images played up to that with the careful placement of a parasol, folk guitarist and rocky landscaping. 

Perhaps, despite the draw of the rugged 'edge' there was an aspiration toward something which felt more exotic with the attendant possibility of sipping a cocktail outside your own front door, with the gentle sound of Spanish guitar filling the air?

But, what lay behind the hype? Again to quote the marketing material, 'The interior of a Wards home is adaptable to all tastes be it Classic or Modern, Spanish or Scandinavian, the choice is yours, as individual as a home should be.' The reality, as so often seemed to be the case in this period, is that there was very little individuality built in. The interior layouts were identical to the 'Georgian' style homes which are were also built on the same estate, and though 4 variations are promised the differences are not significant.

These were of course very reasonably priced homes, even in 1975, £9,250 was a pretty attractive deal just 40 miles from London. The isolation of the area was of course a factor, but I'm pretty sure they sold well.

So, how have the Rivieras fared in 47 years? As to value, the most recently sold fetched £210,000. Location is still a factor. The area is still isolated, even with better road links, and it is an area of deprivation as highlighted by the Co-op Wellbeing Index. Index (coop.co.uk) Only on Equality does the area score above the national average. Warden Bay itself felt friendly and lifegiving, but Sheerness, the largest town on the isle, had many more of the real characteristics of a place on the edge. A brief observation of the few people on the streets suggested that ill health is a big issue. 

Among the houses themselves, I was surprised but quite pleased to see that their design notes were still quite evident. Some features had been changed and the white rendering is looking tired in parts. Some of the exotic planting has survived and the cobbled areas are intact, though the planners would probably be troubled by the way so many cars obscure their grand design. 

no guitarist or parasol today

but the wild 'edge' is right at the end of the street

The Wards brochure is probably one of the most perused in my collection, the ordinariness of the homes, challenged by bold attempts to be different has for so long left with a slight sense of disquiet. I'm left a little 'on edge', but what else could I expect? What I know for sure is that I felt right at home here, with an uncomfortable sense of familiarity. Can anyone spare me £210,000?

*Tom Blass - The Naked Shore - Bloomsbury 2015