According to The Ingoldsby Legends, a collection of myths, legends, ghost stories and poems, “the world, according to the best geographers, is divided into Europe, Asia, Africa, America and Romney Marsh”.

Such is the uniqueness of this corner of Kent, an other-worldly realm jutting out into the English Channel.

At its far south-eastern corner is the shingle headland of Dungeness, often described as the country’s only desert – a flat and rather desolate landscape with a skyline dominated by the grey hulk of a nuclear power station now in the process of being decommissioned.

Arriving by bus outside the Pilot Inn at Lydd-on-Sea – to which I will return later – it only takes a few steps away from the road to find myself on the shingle, under a huge sky, gazing out across the shimmering waters of the Channel towards the far horizon.

To my left I can just about make out the beginnings of the White Cliffs of Dover, and work out the relative locations of the towns of Folkestone and Hythe. But here on the ‘fifth continent’ they feel a world away.

I am planning a circular route, which will take me south towards the power station, before turning along a stunning deserted beach and swinging round through the RSPB nature reserve, which sits a pebble’s throw from the Ministry of Defence firing range at Lydd.

From there I’ll follow the main road back towards Lydd-on-Sea, and the promise of a well-deserved lunch of fish and chips at the Pilot.

The first point of interest on the way is Prospect Cottage, the former home of artist, filmmaker and gay rights activist Derek Jarman.

Jarman moved to Dungeness in 1986 and it was here at Prospect Cottage that he worked across film, art, writing and gardening.

Almost 30 years after his death it remains a site of pilgrimage for people from all over the world and the property is now managed by the Creative Folkestone arts body.

Visits can be pre-booked, but even from the road it is possible to admire the striking gardens which Jarman created here.

Another artist to have found inspiration in this landscape is Ed Sheeran – who has held recording sessions in a converted railway carriage in Dungeness which he bought last year.

If Dungeness can be said to have a centre, then it lies a short walk further, where its lighthouses stand and the Romney, Hythe and Dymchurch Railway terminates.

The railway is another wonderful feature of this delightful place.

Running for just over 13 miles from Hythe, this ‘mainline in miniature’ sees one-third size steam and diesel locomotives rattle their way along the narrowest of narrow gauge tracks.

To passengers disembarking at Dungeness, Hythe must appear a veritable metropolis by comparison, and a short walk further along the perimeter of the power station site I find myself for the first time on what must be one of Kent’s most remarkable beaches.

The shingle stretches away to my left and right, the Channel laps at the shore where flocks of gulls rest in the sunshine, and off in the distance lies the Sussex coast.

Heading west, I soon have the entire beach to myself and enjoy a few contemplative moments in this exquisite solitude.

What follows is the most arduous stretch of the walk.

There is no path to speak of, so I have to make a strenuous effort to trudge across what feels like an unrelenting expanse of shingle before I pick up the road which will, eventually, lead me to a footpath entering the RSPB nature reserve.

The reserve is set back from the sea, boasting mile after mile of open shingle, fresh water pits, wet grassland and stunning wildflower meadows.

According to the RSPB, this is the third most biodiverse site in the country for its insects, including a large number of rare bees, and the waters are home to thousands of wintering wildfowl and nesting seabirds.

There is a visitor centre in the heart of the reserve, where binoculars can be rented if you want to linger a while in one of the hides dotted across the landscape and see which birds you might be able to spot.

My route picks its way northward along footpaths skirting the water and fields of sheep.

Eventually I hit the Dungeness Road from Lydd before following it all the way back to Lydd-on-Sea and my planned stop for lunch at the Pilot.

It may be a weekday afternoon, but the sun’s out and many others have been drawn to this seaside pub and its promise of ‘the finest fish and chips in all England’.

A huge portion of cod and chips is just the reward I needed after an occasionally-taxing wander around this most quirky corner of the county.

After returning home I decided to settle once and for all the question about Britain’s ‘only desert’ and dropped a line to the Met Office.

“There are no deserts in the UK,” came the rather disappointing reply.

“The Dungeness area receives on average around 600-700mm of rain a year – making it a temperate climate – as is the rest of the UK. Desert areas typically receive less than 250mm of rain a year.”

Science has spoken. But here on the ‘fifth continent’ it feels more fitting to deal in myth and legend, the atmosphere lending itself more naturally to tall tales and flights of fancy.

Talk of deserts will persist, and Dungeness will remain a place where people come to escape, to get lost in nature, and marvel at this quite unique landscape. Long may that continue.