What have Craster kippers, Arbroath Smokies and Bob got in common? That's right, they've all been said to stink a bit and they're not to everyone's taste. That includes a couple of fillets in a bap served with a hot beverage, the ' kipper tea'.

Hands up who likes kippers? one, two, three so that's all of you, then? What you don't know, however, and what Bob has known, like forever, is... you're wrong!

They fell out of fashion in the '70s when herring quotas were slashed so you've just stuck your hand up out of nostalgia. They're only really liked by people with failing memories well, them and the middle classes, actually.

They've hijacked this now luxury item but only ever eat them in country house hotels because they frown at the full Englishes on offer.

Sure, there's an instant, salty and smoke gratification but there are posh crisps to do the job these days. They render your kitchen unusable for a week and could you really eat a whole one? Every morning?

The village was once awash with smokehouses, probably, but since the kipper came a cropper, only one remains. L Robson & Sons Ltd still use the traditional curing technique of cold smoking so they're still technically raw when you take them home.

That'll mean a bit of heat before you eat, hence the stink in the kitchen, and you can pick up your annual fix from their shop alongside more palatable, oceanic fayre.

Doing a bit of eavesdropping, as you do, one utterance was right up there, middle class-wise... 'I'm all kippered-out after breakfast!'

This presumably was in response to an invitation to a kipper tea. Man up man and just say it man... 'I can still taste the ones from this morning.' Once a year is enough to remind yourself how indigestion inducing these fiddly and bony little bloaters are.

This neck of Northumberland has more than its fair share of castles and the 14th-century ruins of Dunstanburgh are a walkable mile away. It's free up close but there's a small fee for more of the same from the inside.

Its last act of usefulness looks to have been during World War II as a defensive lookout post. The surrounding beaches were bathed in barbed wire and ditches were dug. They even laid a minefield to prevent any potential invading force from nipping into Craster für ein kïpper Tee.

There was really no need for that, just use them as ammunition and catapult them at 'em... 'AAARGH! Rauchfisch! Wir gehen jetzt!' Now that would've made for an episode of Dad's Army.

Once upon a mine, the old quarry dressed up the local whinstone to pave the streets of London. They started chiselling in the late 1700s and operations lasted until the '30s when, ironically enough, a London-based outfit bought then quickly closed the place.

The quarry's now the main car park and there's a nice view along the track into the village and some bird-fuelled business going on in the bushes.

In the village, there's a tranquil harbour and sea-wall, a popular pub, a café and a walkable castle. What's not to like about this place?

As mentioned already, they're not to everyone's taste.