The Kent seaside town of Whitstable bristles with signs. Signs that glint in the bright sunshine of a November day.
One grandly pronounces the resort’s long and proud connection with oysters, while a lifeguard hut pulses its dazzling red and yellow presence.
Elsewhere, the faded elegance of a hotel and the name of an old house near the shore are announced to all. Little pieces of history, just a few fragments of a British coastal beacon.
