Skegness :the most depressing place I have ever visited. 

Who knows why it all suddenly came back to me today; maybe it was the purely apocalyptic feel of the day, the leaden skies, the mud.. here goes the repressed memory:
Many years ago, when I was an unsuspecting Modern Foreign Language assistant in the Northern Regions of this beautiful country, I was sent to Skegness.
I hadn't done anything wrong that I can remember, or at least they couldn't prove anything, so the exile was unrelated to any shenanigans. I was simply rounded up, like a score or so of fellow MFLAs, packed onto a bus and sent to trailer-town as a huge favour to the Local Education people: provide the local kids with a virtual French town, happily recreated in the deserted resort of Skegness-on-sea. In November.
Skegness is bad enough in the summer: hundreds and hundreds of 'luxury' trailers all lined up along the beach, providing holiday accommodation for the economically challenged. Fish and chips and beer and arcade games. And the wind on the Northern sea.
We slept in unheated trailers and lived on fish and chips and milky PG tips tea. We painted signs, wrote out roleplays, prepared creative activities. When the time came for the brats to appear, I had to don a custom officer uniform and board the first coach, and intimidate hyperactive 12-year-olds into presenting their (fake)passports.
It was false, cheap, tacky, and utterly humiliating.
I can safely that none of us enjoyed the experience.
That's all.