Sandbanks is a funny old place.

There’s something kind of magical about it, or about its location at least. That spit of land sandwiched between the sea on one side and Poole Harbour on the other, with the really exclusive section at the end hanging out into the water like a teardrop.

It has a beautiful, relatively quiet beach, a fair amount of wildlife, trees that tower over the houses and apartment blocks. And, of course, the millionaires.

I’ve heard it said many times that Sandbanks is the most expensive real estate in Europe, mile for mile. I’m always sceptical – more expensive than St Tropez or Monte Carlo, really? The Square Mile or Kensington in London?

But it’s far and away the most expensive place to live in Dorset. Houses here sell for upwards of four million pounds, often closer to ten million, while two-bedroom apartments cost two million pounds. The reason is that location.

If you’re lucky enough to bag a place with a view of the beach at the front and the harbour at the back, I imagine you could save a tiny fraction of what the property cost you by not buying a TV – watching the water on one side or the other would give you all the entertainment you need.

It gives the place an unusual feel. In season, the beach pulls in the usual tourist crowd: people staying in Poole or Bournemouth and heading over for the relative peace and quiet – have you seen Bournemouth beach on a bank holiday weekend?

And then there’s the queue for the Sandbanks chain ferry, that chugs back and forth across the narrow mouth of the harbour. In summer, the queue stretches back for a couple of miles, meaning the one-way system has to have a separate lane for cars not using it. Imagine spending ten million pounds on a luxury waterside mansion, and then finding your front driveway blocked by the ferry queue for four months of the year!

I’ve been travelling through Sandbanks regularly all my life. As a child when we were staying in Purbeck, we would regularly get the ferry across to the ‘mainland’. Now I often make a point of taking a trip in the opposite direction. If you ever get to do it out of season, I recommend pulling up at the front of the queue and waiting for the ferry to make its way back to you, turning off any music in your car and winding down the window (well, pressing the button, but you know what I mean).

All you can hear is the water. The waves churning against the beach on one side. The clang of boat sails on the other. Seagulls wheeling overhead. And in front of you, there’s the green expanse of Purbeck. It’s like leaving one world behind and being transported to another. Magic.

So of course I couldn’t resist including Sandbanks (and the ferry I love so much) in the Dorset Crime books. In book two, The Clifftop Murders, Lesley and Dennis have to drive from the crime scene at Ballard Down near Studland to Poole. It’s summertime, so Lesley dutifully pulls up at the back of the queue (on the Shell Bay side, where you’re surrounded by heathland, dunes and wildlife). Dennis gently reminds her that she’s police. She can push in. In the end, she doesn’t have to, but for someone still getting to grips with the different pace of life in Dorset, it’s a truly alien experience for her.

And of course, Sandbanks is front and centre in The Millionaire Murders. The opening scene takes place in a vast modern house overlooking the beach, based on one I found on RightMove (a wonderful place to research potential crime scenes). Poor Ines finds the body of her employer, Susannah Ramsay, dead in her bedroom, along with an unidentified man.

Sadly I didn’t get a chance to go inside the house I used for inspiration – perhaps I should have been braver and masqueraded as a potential buyer.

But it was a lot of fun imagining what it would be like for Lesley and her team to stand in the bedroom of that house, staring out of the floor-to-ceiling windows at the view of the beach through the pine trees. How the other half lives!