Down the southern end of our road is the sea, the Solent, the English Channel – or La Manche if you’re waving from a Normandy beach.
It’s a little over 200m from our house.
Until earlier this year, you could walk to the top of the road and see the sea from where you stood.
Across the Esplanade, the crumbling promenade, the shingle poured onto the beach to stop the sand longshore drifting into the Channel, and there it would be, doing its thing.
But now, a wall of concrete…