FINALLY ! AN UNSCUFFED HARVEY’S GLASS. THE MARINER, FOLKESTONE

December 2025. Folkestone. Kent. Leaving Folkestone Harbour Arm, with its scary giant seagulls that look like they’ve escaped from Squid Games, we suddenly find it’s nearly half three, the Golden Hour for photos before dusk. Time for a trip along The Stade, replete with souvenirs from the feral Ultras of South London visiting Folkestone Victoria.… Continue reading FINALLY ! AN UNSCUFFED HARVEY’S GLASS. THE MARINER, FOLKESTONE

“FOLKESTONE IS AN ART SCHOOL”

December 2025. Folkestone. Kent. Mrs RM is planning a series of posts on the Kent coast, which by her definition starts at Rochester and skips Gillingham on the way to Whitstable and beyond. Gravesend will have something to say about that. “We should go to Folkestone, only an hour.” I said. “You won’t recognise it“.… Continue reading “FOLKESTONE IS AN ART SCHOOL”

“Lower your expectations”. ChatGPT prepares me for bucolic Burgess Hill.

December 2025. Burgess Hill. If this blog had a Mission Statement, it it would be “to promote the UK’s lesser known highlights” (Leek, Leicester, Leigh) and to warn people away from Maidenhead. I was aware, from a half hour in Quench a decade ago, that Burgess Hill was rather less alluring than Lewes, 20 minutes… Continue reading “Lower your expectations”. ChatGPT prepares me for bucolic Burgess Hill.