Well to begin with, it feels like you've stepped off the train / out of your car into the 1950's.

No high street chains, no big supermarkets, just a laid back market town that's about as quintessentially English as any place can be.

Every turn you make through the lanes & twittens (that's the official countryside term for a 'small' lane) conjures stories of smugglers and piracy on the high seas. The cobbled streets under your feet create sounds akin to the clattering of hooves, inviting images of Highwaymen coming in off the marshlands late at night, on big black horses...(ok maybe that one's just me).

Rye is heart achingly charming without being chocolate boxy or twee. It's cobbled streets and ducking for low beams all the way that's true, but cosied up together in amongst the tudor charm are the grand Georgian mansion houses lived in by many a famous person (EF Benson, Radclyffe Hall, Henry James and a good few more).

Rye attracts loads of tourists but it's mainly a town for the people who live here all year round and that's what makes it even better for the visitors because they get to come and be part of a place that's full of life and people like Brett who runs the green-grocers and has been passionate about growing fruit and veg since he was 5. And then there's Tony the fish man and the way he prices the fish day to day – not by the most he can get for something but instead the simple rules of supply and demand – turn up on a day he's caught plenty and you'll find it's cheap as chips...