Shabby and not so chic

The bus from Shoreham-by-Sea to Brighton costs 2.80 return. For this princely sum, the traveler is treated to a sightseeing tour of a popular stretch of the south coast where chic has ceased to accompany shabby, and plans for further commercial and residential developments are on hold pending the passing of a situation that shows every sign of turning into a severe economic recession come the winter.

Grand old Victorian buildings a block back from the waterfront have peeling paint facades, broken blinds and tatty blankets draped over bay windows that have seen, but now forgotten better times.

Rusting equipment outside derelict factory shells are everywhere, the dying remains of industry. Beach huts usually manage at least to hint at sunnier times. Here they form a line of uniform institutional green spikes along a narrow ridge where the lower edge disappears into a restless gray band of English Channel and the upper blends into a similarly bland strip of sky - and they cost a fortune. This is England on an autumn afternoon. Almost colourless, neither warm nor cold, damp but not really raining. I remember living like this for years before opting for a rather more stimulating environment. Here, a splash of colour seems something quite remarkable.

Between the old and the not so old, the derelict and the grand lies something ubiquitous – the characterless 1980s shopping mall that has been copied and pasted into most corners of the developed world over the last 30 or so years.

Some of the old is very old so the overall effect is patchwork. The oldest pub in Shoreham dates back to the 1730s. The flats across the road have yet to reach 17, others are already 30. The Marlipins is approaching 300.