Those expecting to leap off the train at Folkestone Central and be met with sea air, sandy beaches and quirky beach huts will be a little disappointed. It hasn’t quite got the visual panache of some other seaside towns – the walk to the centre encounters a fair few betting shops, fast-food chains and B&Bs crying for a lick of paint.

What you will be met with, however, is a clue. A large declaration in capital letters that “Folkestone is an art school”. I later learn that the town is home to 74 artworks in its outdoor Folkestone Artworks exhibition, from the likes of Tracey Emin, Antony Gormley, Yoko Ono and Mark Walling, making it the largest urban outdoor contemporary art exhibition in the UK.

An area that slipped into decline in part due to the opening of the Channel Tunnel in 1994, making its port more redundant than ever, has been somewhat resurrected. Multimillionaire Roger De Haan has spent more than two decades investing millions in the town through his charitable trust and his development company, the Folkestone Harbour and Seafront Development Company.

One of his latest schemes is Shoreline, the first phase of a 1,000-home mixed-use development which will stretch for nearly a kilometre along the town’s beachfront. These luxury homes haven’t been met without controversy, with locals questioning the need for high-end flats in a place desperate for affordable housing.

It’s also where I’m staying, and while there’s no questioning that the curving, modern, almost Dubai-like building looks out of place against the somewhat dilapidated backdrop, once inside you do see it for the haven it is. The view of the waves lapping at the beach from the living room alone is reason enough to visit – for those who can afford it, that is.

Famous artists and dramas with one of the UK’s richest men aside, as always I’m far more interested in what there is to eat and drink.

At the time Storm Eowyn was giving us a good beating, and we needed to take shelter somewhere cosy and pubby before cocktails. The actual town centre is full of cobbled, hilly streets, vintage shops, pubs and sweet-looking cafes. The Pullman did just the trick; there’s nothing like the combination of burning logs, candlelight and freshly poured Guinness when the weather outside is frightful.

Had I known just how strong the drinks would be at The Potting Shed, the 1920s-inspired speakeasy complete with password and secret door, I may have swerved the two pints prior, but then again, knowing me, I may not have. The very classic cocktails are crafted with top-notch ingredients – you won’t find any pornstar martinis or spicy margs here – but the old-fashioned flourishes feel fun rather than contrived. There’s even a little theatre when our barman swirls the vermouth around the glass tableside only to chuck the excess straight on the floor.

Three drinks later and we managed to stumble back in one piece, with zero memory of how. Quite a feat considering the main path back to Shoreline is a slightly treacherous set of steep steps down to the beach.

Waking up feeling a little foggy and in need of a dose of caffeine and sugar, we came across Panataria. A really great, gooey chocolate brownie and pastel de nata later and we were ready to face the day. I had to refrain from ordering one of their ginormous foccacia sandwiches, but that’d have rather interfered with lunch.

Located on Folkestone Harbour and run by brothers Ned and Charlie, Brewing Brothers mixes sea views, wood-fired pizza and craft beer. The room is a real sun trap and there’s loads of seating outside, too. My salami, ’nduja and hot honey atop lovely leoparded crusts is just right. A charming place to while away a few hours; and it’s family and dog-friendly, too.

open image in gallery

For dinner that night we head to Annapurna, a no-frills, family-run Nepalese restaurant. The food isn’t the best I’ve had by any means, but it seems to be a firm favourite with the locals. I loved the fact it felt like you’d stepped into someone’s house, complete with a smoking area out the back of a conservatory – though the smell was a little off-putting mid-meal. Avoid the noodle soup and load up on the starters, particularly the momos. We ended up here instead of the Folkestone Wine Company due to availability, which by all accounts is a necessary visit and is on my list for next time.

There’s only one way to round off the weekend in my book, and that’s with a Sunday roast. It’s back to stormy weather and the floor-to-ceiling windows of the impressive Rocksalt offer panoramic views of waves crashing into the harbour. We order a sharing rack of lamb that couldn’t have been cooked any better – and the platter gets extra points for not being overwhelmingly big, with the perfect amount of roasties, veg and cabbage to share. It’s by far the best food of the weekend. Rocksalt also has rooms upstairs which would make for an ideal romantic getaway, as it’s the kind of place that would feel magical whatever the weather.

So for those going to Folkestone, check out the art (or don’t, it’s there to be taken in or ignored at your discretion), definitely get drinks at the Potting Shed and grab some food at Rocksalt. It may not be a Brighton or a Margate, but this little town has bundles of charm, a strong independent streak and some interesting history worth delving into. And good pizza.