There Be Grapes

THEY’VE got grapes in Westcliffe-on-Sea. Big ones. Juicy.

“I haven’t seen anything like it in my life,” says Sylvia Gibson, 57, who has seen the fruit in the ripe flesh. “It’s amazing.”

Indeed. Not since Sir Walter Raleigh returned from the New World holding a potato and proclaiming it to be the very Viagra of life has there been so much excitement in the land.

As Sylvia continues: “I’ve picked walnuts, blackberries, raspberries and apples, but didn’t think I’d ever be picking grapes.”

Who would dare imagine think such a thing? And what odds one of this island race even recognising a grape, let alone knowing to pick it and much less dare place it between tooth and tongue?

But there are grapes. And this country has a long and proud tradition in welcoming new arrivals, even if they have got here by possibly illegal means.

As the Mail reports, the grapes, which grow on a “vine”, are thought to be the result of a train passenger (possibly foreign) throwing a half-eaten bunch of the fruits from the train window.

So much sunshine, rain and failing to keep the area clean later, and the seeds have taken root and developed into a fruiting vine.

And, for purposes of identification, the Mail asks Sylvia to pull on her grape spotter’s hat and show us what they look like.

Theses grapes really do look delicious. But they are almost black in hue, and, accordingly, should be treated with utmost caution and suspicion…

Posted: 18th, October 2006 | In: Tabloids Comment | TrackBack | Permalink