Folk blues

Even in December there's a chance of a deep blue sky as I head once more for the south coast for the final time in 2021. I'm staying in a traditional-style hotel on the clifftop in Folkestone, once a seaside resort and ferry port. With these activities now defunct, parts of the town look neglected but with homebuyers fleeing the astronomical prices of the Big Smoke for some sea air, there are signs of a revival. The area around the hotel is rich in mid-19th century pomp, and like Hastings is reminiscent of Kensington. There's even a golden hour as the last of the sun's rays light up the terraces. The bandstand, from 1895, is the final word in late Victorian elegance.

The cliffs divide Folkestone into an upper and lower town, and sea level reveals a shingly beach and former railway station. This was once a gateway to France for tens of thousands of soldiers destined for the Western Front in World War 1. It was also a gateway for me many moons ago on a backpacking trip to Europe and beyond that lasted over a year.Read more