Normans Bay is a small coastal hamlet, over a train track and on a dead end private road. There’s nothing there except a caravan park and some ramshackle cottages, shingle, ancient groynes, and some sand at low tide. The bay is kept idyllically separate from civilization by the Pevensey Levels, a beautiful area of wetland - a nature reserve teaming with bird life and grazed by red cattle. The winding road to Normans Bay is sporadically lined by avenues of willow. On the beach people go fishing, eat homemade picnics, blow up inflatable crocodiles, dig in the sand and go pink. No facilities (often) = more fun.
I didn’t take my camera today for our quintessentially British day at the seaside, but here’s a picture from the brilliantly nerdy and surprisingly useful archives of geograph.org.uk - who’s mission is to “photograph every grid square!” of the UK in “a geography project for the people”. Go them!