Whitstable in Kent is about a 90 mins drive from London. It’s quite pleasant. There are working fishing boats in the harbour, numerous fresh fish retail outlets, second-hand bookshops (my favourite), one or two bars that aren’t like the countryside and the sloping pebbly beach has groynes. Moves are afoot, I gathered, to destroy the charm of the waterfront by developing it. Hey ho.
A walk along the front takes one past pebbles, shells, waves, beach huts, fishing nets, bright buoys and proper marine bric a brac. The building pictured is perhaps six feet from an array of such objects. The owners of the building, however, seem to have succumbed to one of the new anxieties that are doing so well at the moment.