A good a way to go?

It was my first time to Beachy Head, the cliffs next to the West side of Eastbourne. The views are stunning. It is probably now one of my favourite places on the South Coast near where I live.


There is a nice pub and visitor centre that are worth a look in. The visitor centre has a small museum of local interest at the back. This has displays and presentations on the local wildlife and details of historic significance about the area. This all sounds really nice and sweet doesn't it? That was until I arrive with my big feet ready to put them into my even bigger mouth.

Other people will take the place on face value and appreciate the heritage, but not me. Like serving a Pork Chop at a Bar Mitzvah, I arrive on the scene. I don't give any consideration to local sensitivities or peoples feelings, no not me. You see, Beachy Head has national fame mainly because of the amount of suicides that happen there.

Where other people might take this subject seriously, I with the sensitivity and feeling of a piece of coal can't resist going for the big one. How can I put this without making myself sound like a man with the tact of horny bull? Well I can't. I just came out with it to the man serving at the desk of the visitor centre. "So, how many cark it off the cliffs every year then?" It wasn't until the words were in the air that I realised how bad they were. The man was silent and stared at me like i'd farted in a monastery whilst the monks were in silent contemplation. To those of you that know me personally I'm sure you can imagine my useless efforts at backtracking as I try to erase my faux pas. Bumbling and rambling and stuttering , that hole getting deeper and deeper. Why is it you can't stop yourself in this situation. Best thing I could have done was turn around and walked back out.

They take this subject so seriously there that they have a full-time Chaplaincy Team to provide comfort to the potential 'cordless' bungee jumpers. These men of the cloth are supplied with their own Jeep to race to determined victims before they make their final attempt at being 'Superman' impersonator. Apparently some of those who are determined not to be stopped have to make a dash for it when the 'Collared' caped crusaders bound over the lumps and bumps on the landscape in an effort to cut them off from an appointment with the light at the end of the tunnel.

Death and suicide I know are not funny. I apologise for any offence this may give, but in true Englishman style, I find it easy to talk about sensitive things with humour. I still refer to man's 'bits' rather than the biological term as an example.

The really determined of you might still be holding out for the answer to the question. It seems that the hole digging led to the man at the desk giving up his solemn face and telling me that many sources claim it is about 20 people a year that die off Beachy Head, he was aware of double that amount this last year. The Chaplaincy are the only people who keep accurate records, but they weren't around to ask. They were probably driving about in the 4 X 4 interfering.....er I mean patrolling the area.

Beachy Head isn't a good way to go, but it is a good place to go, unless you've been feeling a little down recently that is.