Weymouth: Every day is like Sunday

Living in Weymouth, Dorset

“Every day is like Sunday”, warbled famous songster Morrissey, in his tale of a bleak, broken seaside town. He was clearly visiting Weymouth when he wrote it. But let’s take you through a guided tour of the stunning sights “the **** of Dorset” has to offer the unwitting tourist.

The Beach

Undoubtedly a stunning vista, were it not packed with drunken, fighting Bristolians every summer. This beautiful sandy beach, packed with tourists, children happily playing in the shallows, can change in a moment when Big Sharon spots “that *******” giving “looks” to her Wayne. Cue a can of Stella flying through the air, followed quickly by Big Sharon. All 18 stone of her. Fears for the children present, soon fade however, as her brood of 12 quickly wade into the fight along with Wayne, who has no fears about getting his teeth knocked out, as he hasn’t got any.

Weymouth beach is also a good place for spotting Television celebrities, although if you don’t watch The Jeremy Kyle Show, Crimewatch or Neighbours From Hell, you are unlikely to know they are in your midst.

How grim is your Postcode?


Weymouth has a long and interesting history, and it’s known as the place where the bubonic plague entered Britain. Looking at the horrific ***** kicking off outside McDonalds most nights, it’s clear that it hasn’t really gone away either. Watching them kicking off is somewhat of a spectator sport these days, with drunken crowds encouraging the young tearaways to disgrace themselves further. As you can gather, there’s not a lot for kids to do around here, but at least when they get up to something, they know that they’re not going to be caught for it. The police [allegedly] gave up on the place years ago.

History is never far away in Weymouth, and should the fancy take you, simply make your way to the back of the derelict Council offices on the picturesque harbour, fight your way through the junkies who are dealing and shooting up, remove the cardboard boxes, sopping wet sleeping bags and carrier bags of the homeless, and below the abandoned shopping trolley, strewn with hypodermic needles are stone steps dating back to the time of the crusades. Weymouth knows how to preserve its heritage. Should you wish to go further back in time, it’s only a short bus ride to Portland, where you can marvel at families dating back to the Neolithic period.


If watching ***** fighting isn’t your thing, Fear not. There are a host of things to entertain you in Weymouth. There’s the bowling alley, where some of the lanes often work, and Weymouth jewel in the crown, the shops. Make no mistake, this is a true shoppers delight. Chipboard, MDF, plywood, it’s all here, boarding up more shops than you can shake a big stick at. Indeed, Weymouth is so keen to preserve its semi derelict status, that when a local tattoo shop was repainted, making it stand out from its dilapidated neighbours, Council Planning were soon called in.

And the pubs, let’s not forget the pubs. Weymouth is the undisputed stag and hen capital of the South Coast. So much so, that on a random Saturday night, you would think you were caught in the middle of a “fattest bride” or “drunken w4nker competition”.

I could go on, and I may yet.
All I can say is, welcome to Weymouth!