Once a great port, Dunwich is now a tiny (but famous) village, gradually sinking into the sea. Its well-loved smugglers’ inn, almost on the beach, overlooks the salt marsh and sea and pulls in wind-blown walkers and birdwatchers from the Minsmere Reserve. In the old-fashioned bar – nautical bric-a-brac, flagged floors, simple furnishings and a stove that belts out the heat – you can tuck into legendary fish and chips washed down with a pint of Adnams. There’s also a more modern dining room where hearty food combines with traditional dishes: try slow-braised Blythburgh pork belly served with Lyonnaise potatoes, apple puree, red cabbage and local greens, or tuck into their terrific Scotch eggs: with black pudding and homemade piccalilli, or hot smoked salmon and horseradish. Up the fine Victorian staircase are spruced up bedrooms – simple, uncluttered – with period features, cord carpets, brass beds, old pine, little shower rooms. Rooms at the front have glorious salt marsh views, two new rooms overlook the garden, courtyard rooms are cosy with pine, and one of the family rooms under the eaves is fabulous: single beds, a big futon-style bean bag, and a flat-screen for the kids.