I MADE myself visit Southend Pier recently. First time in quite a while, though I see and admire the old lady from the shore every single day and often write about her, of course, because she has been close to my affections in my own lengthy lifetime, as one so fortunately born, raised and educated in the town.

I’d stayed away from being at close quarters with her because the years, and far too many elected councillors of the past, have been unkind to her.

Abandoned her to the elements and to the nastier side of nature.

Lately, and hopefully not too late to give our pier a new lease of life, work has started on repairs and a makeover. Hopefully, also, there is a new will among many councillors to gradually restore and revitalise the most famous feature of Southend, although she is 110 years old.

Recent fine weather has seen vast numbers of visitors to the town, our seafront’s magnetic attractions pulling ’em in.

When my wife and I joined the queue for the train ride to the pierhead, lots of folk came off the incoming Sir William Heygate and lots of us packed it for the outward journey.

Sir William, Lord Mayor of London in 1822-23, who lived at Porters, now Southend’s civic house and mayor’s parlour, was a chief promoter of the proposed pier. Smart, farseeing, caring chap, clearly.

As we trundled along, the immediate view from the carriage was of rotting wood and rusting girders, grim, ghastly, fearful evidence of years of failure by successive administrations of Southend to insist on maintenance. Clear lack of even routine replacement or tidying or painting makes one shudder at the sight. It is frankly worrying, clearly revolting.

There’s not too much of the magnetic or momentous to boast about or broadcast to potential paying visitors at the pierhead.

It was good, though, to see packed tables on the open deck fronting the ultra modern pavilion that arrived a few years ago.

My own dislike of this building, to me a carbuncle, has been expressed before, so enough said.

Refreshing and rewarding, though, that it is patronised by paying visitors and maybe in the future might be joined by other attractions (well, maybe even replaced by something far more in keeping with its setting and surroundings).

Pleasant, helpful folk in the gift shop of the local branch of the wonderful RNLI welcomed us visitors and sold us a little souvenir for a friend once of Southend, now living distantly away.

We spotted several newish, iron seats dotted around the pierhead, some bearing memorial plates to lost loved ones – to folk who obviously must have loved the pier, too. A typical message to a lost 70-year-old described him as “a great angler and a true gent, sadly missed”.

We saw, too, a vessel of a Southend-based marine company, alongside the pierhead, men aboard tackling parts of the rotting structure.

It seems there may be real hope for the future. Maybe our councillors will accept that spending millions on it will be far more worthy and welcome than the proposed investment of vast, absolutely vast, sums in a suggested museum to plant in the cliffs gardens immediately below the historic and delightful Royal Terrace.

May the end of the pier’s long and disgraceful decline please be in sight ere much longer. May our councillors recognise and accept that our pier is so close to the hearts of so very many council taxpayers.