If you read the right magazines (or, like me, occasionally flick through them while you are working for the wrong ones) it is also a mecca for sophisticated young out-of-towners, keen to spend their wealth in the town's hip boutiques and drink their organic wine sitting on cashmere blankets spread over the beach – yet here is the view from the back of the bus that took us from our B&B to the high street.
It was a glorious weekend, spent with some of my oldest and dearest friends. This was brought home to me at dinner, when I took delivery of my dessert – lemon posset with rhubarb fool and sable biscuits.
(And yes, I know it does look a bit like this. I just have a type, OK?) My friend said to me, 'You chose that purely so you could have those little shortbread biscuits, didn't you?' And I had to concede that yes, she was entirely right. While the part of me that considers myself a Tousle-haired Creature Of Spontaneity And Caprice rails against anyone being able to correctly define my preferences like this, it was strangely comforting to realise she knew me so well. She also knew, of course, that in The Big Book Of Opposites, I am, hair aside, the negative image of that Creature Of Spontaneity And Caprice.
(Incidentally, posset is one of the all-time great words. One of my weekend companions, Lady C, believes it sounds like sexual terminology. I think of it as a sack in which to carry one's successfully hunted possums).
Anyway, in further menu news, I found it impossible to switch off completely from work.
Perhaps I have been in the business for too long. Perhaps it is time for a change. But as The Big Book Of Opposites tells you, I fear change. Still, I am open to signs, as I have said so many times before. So now I am wondering why I saw the face of Little Weed from Bill & Ben at the bottom of my glass…