I don't buy too many new books. We treat them with such disrespect that most can be bought for pennies on the second hand market within eighteen months. I made an exception for this book, based upon a review in a trusted news paper. This was a mistake.

I honestly don't know what the author, Madeline Bunting, was trying to achieve. I live in a coastal village, not too far from Great Yarmouth and so, I am fully aware of the difficulties facing coastal towns but this book is one of constant gloom. She goes to Skegness, in March, and reports that many shops and entertainments are closed! Everywhere she stays is dowdy and there seems to be a minimal attempt to interact with the locals.

I am not saying for a moment, that the down at heel hotels, the surfeit of charity and betting shops in the town centre and the lack of good non holiday based work is inaccurate, but it is part of the story and there is no attempt to tell the other side. People living on the coast are painted as victims. There is no recognition of the changing attitude to holidays: yes, the seaside town is struggling but, the coastal villages, whilst having problems, are still seeing good numbers of visitors. Around the village where I live, there is not only beach walks but good dog walking dunes that bring in a wealthier tourist.

Coastal towns undoubtedly need help. This book des not offer any. It is a wallow in sentimental memories of childhood holidays (all of which were traumatic, of course!) and a pre-judged trial.

I remember, a while back, a story about a new printing ink which is the "blackest black"; this book should have been printed using it! ( )