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Despite our politically correct age there is still a great deal of affection for the eccentric. There is something wonderfully eccentric about a chippy stuck on the end of a fishermen's pier, overlooking the bay where a Spanish galleon came to grief, and backed by gas cylinders. It is rather as though they are saying 'this closer we cannot go'.

To those for whom quality fish and chips is akin to a crusade, this has to be the Holy Grail. The fish is landed straight off the boat and into the van, from which it duly emerges, to order, surrounded by quality chips. People come for miles, others just stumble upon it, all go away with the feeling of having eaten something as near natural as it's ever likely to be. And you meet some really nice people in the queue.