There’s something sad about Sandbanks

I’ve always had a soft spot for the English seaside. It’s idiosyncratic, a little kitschy, a little gross. There are those pre-war beach windbreakers. There are tuna and sweetcorn sandwiches in packed lunches. There’s a mangy dog nipping at your feet as you run into icy waters. It’s always windy, often pebbled, and full of litter.

We love it like we love mushy peas – that is to say we learn to love it. But Sandbanks is nothing like that. Sandbanks is considered a cut above, and it is. The chintzy aspects of seaside towns like Paignton and Bognor Regis are lost on Sandbanks and its £13 million bungalows. Seaside entertainers dressed up in stained suits are nowhere to be found alone Panorama Road. It’s more bluefin tuna and Dom Perignon than cold saveloys and cans of Carling.