The picture-postcard seaside town of Marsby, South East England, isn’t known as its lively holiday destination—it’s more a calming wave of nostalgic English village life. Nothing much happens. The pier is as rickety as the mostly over-60s residents, the mini coastal train’s horn is out of tune, and the beach huts along the front are still trying to sell the over-stale pink rock.
Sometimes, new life is injected into the area. And sometimes, love can be found among the multi-coloured pebbles that make up the beach, if only those who live and breathe the English Channel air can be persuaded to take a dip in an ocean of possibilities instead.
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