The Exorcism of Bognor Regis

Hometown Unicorns

So I was back in my home town of Bognor Regis a few weeks ago because I am all about the glamour.

I was wandering though the town precinct on a Friday lunch time when in the distance the unmistakable sounds of FUNK wafted round my earholes. Normally the busker is some bloke banging out Ed Sheeran numbers.

On further investigation, I was confronted by this.

This chap is Isaiah Brown. I had a chat to him between songs and asked him an obvious question: favourite bass player? For Isaiah it was no contest: Bernard Edwards of Chic. An excellent answer. Bernard was tighter than your mum the Reserve Bank of Australia’s monetary policy.

Isaiah was not the only thing of excellence in Bognor.

There used to a be a great craft pub called The Dog and Duck. When I walked past its location, I was mighty depressed to see that it had been converted into a shop selling mobility scooters. Now while I can see the obvious business justification for shop selling both booze to drink and mobility scooters to get you home afterwards, this shop was just the scooters. However my sadness was turned to joy when my mate Steve told that they had actually moved to a bigger establishment.

Finally, we had Sunday lunch at Chez Moi - which was bloody amazing. A cosy little restaurant serving top class cuisine that no one could accuse of being stingy with the portions.

Buggering Bognor

Bognor got its “Regis” part in 1929 after British king George V spent some months convalescing there. Allegedly:

• The Bognor Urban District Council petitioned the king to bestow the suffix "Regis" ("of the King") on the town.[13] The petition was presented to Lord Stamfordham, the king's private secretary, who in turn delivered it to the king. King George supposedly replied, "Oh, bugger Bognor." Lord Stamfordham then went back to the petitioners and told them, "the King has been graciously pleased to grant your request."

Or:

• The King, upon being told, shortly before his death, that he would soon be well enough to revisit the town, uttered the words "Bugger Bognor!"

Possibly neither of these stories are true. But regardless of their veracity, the alleged insult to the town’s honour rankled.

In the late 80s, my family attended an evangelical Baptist church in town. My Sunday evening consisted of exorcisms, spiritual healings, prophecyings, and speaking in tongues* (there may be a future post on this topic).

Now the pastor of our church was on a mission. According to him, the fortunes of the town had not declined due to the availability of cheap flight and package tours to the Mediterranean. How could puny Corfu compare to the might of a Butlins chalet and bingo? No - the true cause was a satanic curse laid on our fair town by the former monarch. He was not going to let this stand. He told us all that he had written to the Queen to ask that she lift the curse on our community and return us to our glory days.

I do not know whether royal household responded to his petition. But the evidence on display is that if an exorcism was undertaken then it has not had any material impact on the town.

Although it still has its charms for some.

*Glossolalia. Not coprolalia. Very different. I am prone to the latter.