Folkestone

Folkestone was built to be the place you passed through on the way to France, and parts of it still have the look of a departure lounge. The ferries stopped, the tunnel surfaced round the corner in Cheriton, and the town did what Kent seaside towns do now: it hung art on everything and turned the old harbour arm into somewhere to drink. The regeneration is real but hasn't made it up every hill yet, and the estate agents photograph only the streets where it has. France is still visible on a clear day, a standing reminder that for most of its history the best thing about Folkestone was leaving it.