Houses by the sea

"By the sea" and "sea view" are not the same promise, and that is the first thing to untangle. A house at the water's edge can be heard breathing at night and gets hosed down every evening. A house with a view is usually higher, quieter, and a ten-minute drive from the sand. Both are good. They do not suit the same holiday.

Salt works away at things. Windows haze over within a week, hinges creak, washing dries badly on misty days. A well-kept seaside house shows it: ask when the joinery was last seen to — the answer tells you a great deal.

The wind decides everything. A magnificent, exposed terrace is worth nothing on a north-easterly day. Look for the patio, the cross wall, the tamarisk hedge — on the coast, shelter beats a view, and the houses that have both are the ones people keep.

Parking. In oyster villages and old centres you park four hundred metres away and finish on foot, carrying the shopping. That is not a flaw; it is why there are no cars in front of the house. But it is better known beforehand than on arrival.