There are fish and chip shops as far as the eye can see and the air is filled with the sickly-sweet aroma of candy floss combined with freshly fried donuts.
Walking past the shop fronts I can hear the beeps of arcade machines, accompanied by the occasional clatter of 2p coins hitting metal.
Most importantly, it’s raining. Surely this is the quintessential seaside experience? Yet there’s no sound of crashing waves, no seagulls swiping chips from hungry tourists and certainly no salty tang in the air.
In fact I’m nowhere near the sea at all, instead I’m right in the middle of the country in the village of Matlock Bath, located just outside of the Peak District.
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