Cromer sits on the north coast of Norfolk, looking out to the bleak waters of the North Sea.
It has a beach with strands of wave washed flints, and a fine looking church.
But it also has an atmosphere of mournful emptiness - not the genteel decay of some other British seaside towns that have drifted past their sell by date, but a more tangible feeling of finality. The town was neat and tidy, but it seemed that nothing was happening - maybe that's the charm some people find in the place, but if that's the case, it passed me by.
There is the distinct possibility that the place was actually shut while I was there, and that nobody had put up the notices on the edge of town to tell me about it. If the town itself was not shut, then the "award wining" fish and chip shop where we eat a meal should consider it a sensible way to go.
Strangely, I find some of the images I made far more interesting than the time I spent there!
Maybe I was in a bad mood. Who knows.
The flint beach was the best part of the town. Each fishing boat the launches off the beach seems to have its own vintage tractor to haul it to and out of the water. All of the tractors were falling apart in about a million different rusty ways.
I hope you like the pictures, and if you happen to live in Cromer, sorry for the less than glowing review!
You can find more shots from around the world at Our World Tuesday. SM