Copywriter: Writing for Colchester, Essex & the world

Essex.

To someone who has never been to Essex, this fine county conjours up some very specific images and thoughts. And let's face it, some of them are not so flattering.

Females with liberal bedroom attitudes, and males with a penchant for vibrantly painted automobiles containing ear-destroying sound systems. These are clichés.

Accurate clichés.

But one Sunday Rover bus ticket and you can experience a different Essex - a green Essex where rabbits nibble on pretty flowers, where foxes nibble on pretty rabbits, and where farmers shoot pretty foxes. You'll have to keep you eyes open to see this full chain in action.

Let's not forget Flatford Mill either. When you're standing next to that tranquil pond, when you gaze at the quaint old house of Willy Lott - you know for sure that you're looking upon the scene of Constable's Haywain. Mainly because there's a big National Trust sign that says it is - otherwise it bears only a passing resemblence.

The county that gave us Bouicea, or Boudicca, or perhaps Boudiciea also gave us (the Scottish specifically) Robert the Bruce. The man who secured Scottish independence was a Chelmsford lad; he managed to resist the charms of the women and the urge to put go-faster stripes on his horse-drawn cart - and instead lead the Scottish to revolution.

Damon Albarn, another Essex son put Colchester on the map (well, the Romans literally put it on the map, but you know what I mean). Colchester is Britain's oldest recorded town. It's so old, in fact, that there's nothing much left to see. There's a good Chinese takeaway on Mersea Road, and The Odd One Out pub is surely the best pub on the planet. It's run the way pubs used to be run. I imagine. Not by a business man, but by a man. A man who looks like Sean Connery.

I digress though. My point is, with names like John Constable, Dick Turpin, Noel Edmonds and Joe Pasquale haling from this fine County - our reputation is secure.