Oi! Watch It!... No, Seriously, It’s Called Watchet.

Driver Jatt

Oi! Watch It!… No, Seriously, It’s Called Watchet.

Stop reading that in Bianca from EastEnders’ voice right now. This place is actually called Watchet.

My van doesn’t just stick to the M6. Sometimes a job takes you on a proper detour, and this time it landed me in Somerset. After a long drive from Birmingham, I parked up, dutifully paid for my ticket, and got chatting to a couple walking their dog. Standard practice for me – always ask a local for the gossip.

“Anything interesting about the place?” I asked.

“Well,” the man said, without a hint of irony, “people generally come here to die.”

And that, friends, was about as good as it got for a welcome.

Walking around the town to stretch my legs, I ended up at Watchet harbour. The view was… muted. Someone had parked their beige Ford Escort right there, and it just blended into the whole scene perfectly. A local fella ambled over for a natter. Seeing a pattern, I tried again.

“So, what’s interesting around here?”

He nodded sagely towards the water. “This is a good suicide spot.”

Jeez. I’ve never come across such a bunch of jolly, morbid people in my life! What an oxymoron, eh? Now, in the interests of public safety and Watchet tourism, I must point out that this ‘prime spot’ he indicated was essentially a patch of very deep mud in the harbour. Not exactly the Golden Gate Bridge.

A Slice of Watchet, Between Death Chats

Between these cheerful exchanges, I did actually learn a thing or two. Watchet’s a small coastal town in Somerset, sat on the Bristol Channel. It’s right next to a place called ‘Blue Anchor’.

Well, theoretically it is. There’s a road that connects the two, but it’s currently closed. And I mean properly closed. If you stop your car at the ‘Road Closed’ sign, you can literally see where the tarmac has crumbled off the cliff and fallen into the sea below. A stark reminder not to argue with coastal erosion.

A Port with a Past

Digging a bit deeper (away from the muddy harbour), Watchet has history. Proper history. It dates back to the Romans, when it was a significant port. The town has a rich maritime heritage, and its harbour was a vital hub for trade and transportation all through medieval times.

And yes, like so many UK ports, it has a historical connection to the transatlantic slave trade, though its involvement wasn’t as prominent as some others (looks pointedly towards Liverpool).

Quaint, With One Notable Exception

The town itself is undeniably quaint, full of stone cottages and genuinely friendly locals (despite their dark humour). The harbour area is pretty, in a quiet, fading-postcard kind of way.

Then you see it. There’s a monstrosity of a building right on the harbourfront. A real piece of architecture that would only look fabulous if you were high on drugs. Which, thankfully at the time, I was not. It clashes so badly it’s almost impressive.

So, Why Am I Telling You This?

Because this is what you get with a Birmingham based courier who goes the distance quite literally. Your urgent delivery isn’t just a ‘Birmingham to Somerset’ line on a map. It’s a briefcase for a solicitor in Watchet, a prototype for a workshop in Blue Anchor, or a critical part for a boat in the harbour.

I don’t just drive from A to B. I find the places in between, chat to the locals (morbid or otherwise), and learn the roads so you don’t have to. I’ve now seen the crumbling cliff road with my own eyes, so I know which diversions actually work.

Need something delivered from the Midlands to the West Country? Need a courier who’ll actually figure out how to get there, no matter how quaint or conversationally gloomy the destination is?

Use the link below. Or just enjoy the pics. I’ve got the road knowledge, you’ve got the parcel. Let’s get it moved.

Get a quote >>>>>>>>> Over Here