I have never been anywhere like Dungeness. On holiday in Hastings, we decided to venture a trip to this village in the shadow of a nuclear power station because the filmmaker Derek Jarman had lived there, and the images from his films attracted us. Still, we had no idea what we were letting ourselves in for. A curious mixture between a French fishing village and an American trailor park, it managed to feel deserted and full of people at the same time. Many were visitors – fishermen or bird watchers, or possibly minature train enthusiasts. But what of the people who live in the wooden houses? Were they fishermen? Did they work in the power station? What did they think of the tannoy annoucements? Or the dunes of stones? Or the ghosts of fishing boats that stood half way up the beach, where the water once lapped? According to one of the two resident artists, the place is divided into the recreational quarter, holiday homes to working class families, and the “rufty tufty” locals, who mostly make a living from the sea. It is a truly enchanting and bewildering place, that according to the other artist, never stops inspiring, even after 30 years.