Ventnor

Ventnor is what happens when Victorians decide a cliff face is the ideal place to send their dying relatives, then a hundred and fifty years later their great-great-grandchildren turn it into an arts festival. The town clings to the hillside like it's been told to brace, populated by people who have either retired here or are quietly waiting to. Salcombe prices, Sandown wages, and a railway line British Rail decided wasn't worth the trouble in 1966 and nobody has been bothered enough to bring back. Mayfair by the sea, if Mayfair had Band B council tax and a bus timetable held together with optimism.