Today I went to Dieppe. Dieppe is mostly a rather grim example of a seaside town. Take the dry cleaner's, for instance: neoned to the 90s but rooted in tradition thanks to the altar boys poised in the window.
I was fortunate to catch the jetsam after the market. I wonder why the jeans didn't sell.
Nice bit of salt-air rust.
The seafront is pretty decent, however, even on a day like this.
Not least, the people.
Is that Rolf Harris?
What rocks to get all the way there and find the main pool was shut all day for an 'aquathlon'. A solo tour of the mini-golf not overly attractive, I spectated a little and then came home.
Fellow spectator.
Part of the running course. The pool is on the other side of the beach huts.
A great umpire.
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