Let's move to… Romney Marsh, Kent | Property | Tom Dyckhoff | Money | The Guardian

Let's move to… Romney Marsh, Kent | Property | Tom Dyckhoff | Money | The Guardian

What's going for it? Romney Marsh in February, that's the place for me. Dungeness, just to the south, gets the attention, what with its arty down-from-Londoners and bleak good looks. But Romney Marsh is older, wiser and bleaker (in a splendid way). Indeed, the popularity of Dungeness just adds to Romney's isolation, as people whizz past its glories en route for the shingle. Stop. Stay. "The romance of this small, blank, isolated neck of land is strong," wrote John Piper in his book on Romney. It's in the stones of medieval churches like St Augustine's, built on hummocks above the marsh to keep the devil from this windswept place. You'll find romance, too, walking the leafy towpath of the Royal Military Canal, built to surrender Romney to Napoleon; or hearing the cries of frogs and resting birds on the way to Siberia. And in the skies, too, the big, watery skies. And those Romney Marsh lambs, popping into the world right now. Very tasty. Oh, yes, Romney Marsh in February, that's the place for me.

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