The end of the Cobb, Lyme Regis
It was interesting to discover that the association of the Cobb at Lyme Regis with the film of The French Lieutenant's Woman has finally faded. Absolutely nobody was doing a Meryl Streep selfie out at its windblown end. You'd probably struggle to find anyone who'd heard of the book's author, John Fowles, either, despite his long residence in the town. I certainly struggled to explain to my daughter why, long ago in the 1970s, his novels were thought to be quite significant. Time does its inexorable work.
The most striking thing about the Cobb is the level of real danger it represents to the unwary. Not only is there no parapet or railing to prevent you falling off into the sea, and not only does it also slope laterally quite severely, so that you have to counter gravity's attempt to steer you into the harbour as you walk along, but there are solid trip hazards all along its length in the shape of mooring rings and bollards. To venture out to the very end, on a dark and windy night without a torch, as we did, is idiotic indeed, but fun.