Walton Pier is a pleasingly substantial structure, with shoreward amusements and a seaward deck both provided very generously. I visited the pier on a windy day in early June; therefore not in the holiday primetime. External impressions, from further along the promenade, is of a rather haphazardly arranged structure with a particularly garish collection of amusement halls at the shoreward end. On the Northern side, the strangely elegant horizontal lines of red and yellow walls are spoiled by a more modern extension (a grey box) to the amusements, finished in plain steel. The southern side certainly looks more attractive (all in relative terms of course - it is all corrugated asbestos hangars, after all). The entrance is covered with a full-width canopy built of colourful metal cladding; unfortunately it is quite a depressing place, with evidence of a former cafe closed off and much of the cosmetic metalwork rotting away. Proceeding inside is a long concourse, brightly lit by continuous rooflights. Flanking this, to the left, is the amusement arcade, and to the right, the indoor rides. The various halls are rather dingy places, making for a slightly spooky experience when venturing away from the bright concourse. Approaching the far end of the building, the lights stopped altogether and the only major light source was the door onto the deck. It was clear that the holiday season had not started yet; the pier was almost completely deserted. Eventually reaching the outside deck revealed a slightly sad-looking picnic area - an expansive concrete deck filled with then-disused picnic tables. One good sign, however, was the large pile of wood planks left to one side in the pier's storage area - clearly intended for some deck repairs , something which a walk further down the pier proved to be thoroughly necessary. The seaward end is remarkably plain and featureless, except for the occasional fisherman's hut or tidal gauge, and this provided an excellent viewing experience of the surrounding area: the sea of colourful beach huts, the Naze tower, and out to sea towards the wind farms and the abandoned Gunfleet Lighthouse. Meanwhile, the decking seemed to be holding up quite well until around halfway down the pier, where it began to gradually deteriorate. Eventually a point was reached where selective footwork had to be deployed, which is never a good sign - this pier is not good for those who do not look where they are going! Of course, the pile of new planks, seen earlier, suggests that this problem will soon be addressed. The end of the pier flares into a horn-shaped head, necessitating some interesting deck planking arrangements which would have certainly given the pier engineer a headache. There is not much to see here: several blue plastic benches, the tide gauge hut, a closed-off corner of the head which is gradually collapsing, and another corner which shakes when waves hit the pier. Despite the feeling of great peril, I was actually enjoying this pier! It has a feeling of quiet isolation and (forgetting the shoreward amusements) is largely unspoiled. In fact, it is one of very few surviving piers which bring you so far into the sea, but leave you in silence and peace. I do appreciate this, and hope that it survives for a while longer. I fear that, practically speaking, it is only the RNLI berth at the end that is justifying the existance and maintenance of the seaward end.

I imagine that the pier is a different place during the summer holidays, the infrastructure is there and the pier has an enthusiastic social media page, so it will probably be a much 'happier' place when you visit than when I did. During out-of-season?... your satisfaction depends on whether you appreciate 'shabby chic-ness' and intense silence or not.