James Tucker in Cov

It's been a pretty grim summer, weather-wise, but Laura and I took advantage of the nice weather the other week to go to the North Kentish sea-side, at Whitstable. It's quite popular as a resort these days because it was never a resort before, and so is quaint and 'authentic'. There are still oyster-fishers and whatnot around, so it is a bit like an East-Coast fishing village.
Whitstable is famous for its little paths leading down to the beach, one of which (Squeeze-gut Alley) is less than two feet across at one end. Besides that, and an ersatz castle at one end of the beach, the attractions were good fish and chip shops, boat tours out to the seal colonies, wind turbines and sea forts, and the various beach-huts people were renting to stay in down the bay. Besides the traditional British sea-side shack, there were converted fish-smoking huts, grain stores and boathouses to stay in, almost all of which were sided in clapboard (rare in the UK). These buildings aren't quite as immediately on the sea as they were, as the town is vulnerable to flooding, and so a sea-wall provides a nice walkway alond the steep pebble beach, and puts you above both the water and the town.
I find it interesting that just around the headland, a mile away, Hearne Bay is no-where near as prosperous, because since the 1880s they have built attractions, hotels and a bandstand, and are thus, today, 'tacky'. We've since been to Hearne, and it doesn't have the same feel as Whitstable, but it's more of a proper summer day at the Midway/Beach/Fair. But that'll be another post.