It was certainly an idyllic spot, with the cliffs rising steeply behind and curving around it and the beach in front reaching down to the shore. The backdrop of cultivated fields atop the cliffs stretched to the horizon and it all looked untouched by time. A truly pastoral British scene, that is until you spotted the vibrant café exterior (and given the explosive pop of colour, you simply couldn’t fail to spot it) and were transported straight to the sunny Caribbean.

‘It’s amazing,’ I grinned. ‘And not at all what I was expecting. You’ve totally taken me by surprise, Sophie. I love it.’

‘Well, thank you,’ she smiled graciously.

She seemed pleased by my reaction, which in turn pleased me because it was wholly genuine. Even just a glimpse of Sophie’s café from a distance had started to chase away my dark mood. I couldn’t wait to see if it was as eye-catching on the inside as it was out.

‘I’m very proud of it,’ she continued. ‘Although I can’t help wishing it was a little busier.’

I couldn’t possibly imagine why the café wouldn’t be heaving but, aside from someone walking a dog in the distance, the beach was completely deserted; however, I supposed that with the recent weather that was hardly surprising. And as Sophie had pointed out on the day I arrived in the village, it hadn’t been the sunniest start to the year. That was bound to have an impact.

‘I’m sure things will pick up again when the sun makes a more consistent effort,’ I told her robustly. ‘As soon as the temperature starts to rise, folk will be flocking back to the beach, and to here. I mean, look at it. How could they resist?’

She didn’t look convinced and I remembered how surprised I had been to find the village so empty and the Smuggler’s so lacking in footfall. Why was no one coming to Wynmouth?

‘Well, I don’t know about that,’ she said softly and a little sadly, ‘but let’s get inside before the rain starts again and I’ll make you a lovely hot chocolate.’

We quickly made our way down the path and I found I couldn’t stop smiling. The fence surrounding the outside eating area was painted in a rainbow of colours, as were the half a dozen wooden picnic benches arranged on the fore-court which overlooked the beach.

‘The winter storms ensure the paintwork needs touching up every year,’ Sophie told me, ‘but I think it’s worth it, don’t you?’

‘Definitely,’ I readily agreed. ‘Totally worth it.’

The interior was every bit as vibrant and matched the outside beautifully. There were no muted shades in this Norfolk beachside café. It had to be utterly unique to the area and to my mind, that should have made it even more popular.