It's the strip of 'entertainment' - meat-market discos, (so-called) amusment arcades and pubs where you can get your face pummelled in for the price of a pint - along the seafront, including the locally imfamous 'slags wall'.
There's two roundabouts a hundred yards apart around which the local lads drive their souped up, spoilered, low-profile wheels, bass-binned tw@-mobiles all night at an average speed of about three miles an hour whilst playing house music at volumes that could crush a house brick, whilst they attempt to win the affections of the ladies seated upon the wall I mentioned earlier, so they can take them to Shoebury East Beach for 'courting'.
It's a classy place.
I just think the locals'd make minced meat of 'em. They'd be better off somewhere genteel like Bournemouth.