Tuesday 21 March 2023

Broadstairs: A Couple of Days on the Kent Coast

 

The white cliffs of Kingsgate Bay, on the other side of which lies Botany Bay.
Australians will be interested to know that Botany Bay in Kent was actually named after Botany Bay in Sydney
(and not the other way around, as it usually is), because of the number of smugglers in the area,
who were deported there!


Hello Readers!

We recently spent a weekend in Broadstairs on the Kent Coast, celebrating both Kevin's 65th birthday and the end of his intensive treatment for prostate cancer. 

It was Kevin's choice to visit the town, which he had briefly cycled through in 2022 as part of his completion of the Viking Coastal Trail, a 50km circular route on the Isle of Thanet. His interest in Broadstairs had been piqued by a brief glimpse of attractive buildings and that appealing air of faded gentility which many English seaside resort towns wear with pride.


The seafront pub named after one of Broadstairs' most famous residents.
Sadly, the food was pretty ordinary - we only ate here on our first evening
because we couldn't get into any of our preferred venues


Viking Bay at Broadstairs

Broadstairs lies about 130 kilometres east of London on the Isle of Thanet*, between the much larger seaside towns of Margate (to the north) and Ramsgate (to the south). The nearest really big town is Canterbury, less than an hour's drive westwards. The permanent population of Broadstairs is about 25,000.

* Technically no longer an island! It was once separated from the mainland by the 600-metre-wide (2,000 ft) Wantsum Channel, but it's long been a peninsula.

Now, prior to visiting Broadstairs I really had no sense of what it would be like. I did have a vague knowledge that nearby Margate, in particular, was once renowned as one of the least appealing seaside towns in Britain - a rundown place with low socio-economic status. 

However I was soon to discover that Broadstairs really does have an astonishing volume of quirky and charming buildings, many of which now house cafés, tiny bars and restaurants. There does indeed seem to be a higher than usual ratio of good quality eateries for a town of this size.

Former British Prime Minister Edward Heath was born in Broadstairs, as was writer and director Bruce Robinson (of Withnail and I fame - one of my favourite films). Broadstairs' most famous resident was in fact Charles Dickens, who visited regularly for a period of more than 20 years and wrote David Copperfield whilst in residence at Bleak House - which building wasn't called that at the time, but following the publication of the novel its name was changed.  


How gorgeous is the striking colour scheme for this café in Broadstairs?
Suppers. Luncheons. 😃



One of several very appealing pubs in the centre of Broadstairs



Fish and chips in Broadstairs



Pretty lilac-painted cottage in Broadstairs



Wyatt & Jones, a hip eatery near the beach at Broadstairs


Our accommodation in Broadstairs was absolutely sublime. Kevin's wish for his birthday / end of treatment celebration was that we stay somewhere 'really nice' and Belvidere Place was all that. The building is a Grade II listed Georgian townhouse, just one street back from the shorefront.


Our luxury B&B for the weekend: Belvidere Place in Broadstairs


I love a moody design palette, so Belvidere Place's dark interiors were just my thing. The owner, Peter, has decorated his five guest rooms with luxurious fabrics and bed linen and the thickest, fluffiest towels I've ever come across. The beds and sofas are amazingly comfortable and there's a combination of mood and task lighting. Peter has integrated modern pieces with vintage and antique items, plus there are all sorts of lovely touches like antiquarian books and nice pictures. 

I'm often disappointed by the hospitality tray; not so at Belvidere Place which generously provided an actual teapot with a variety of loose leaf teas, a cafétiere and ground coffee, a jug of drinking water and a whole pack of luxury shortbread, plus a couple of pieces of fruit. None of your instant coffee sachets and miserly cellophane-wrapped packets of two cheap biscuits here!

And the breakfasts... I'm not sure what unwritten law demands that most forms of accommodation in England offer only 'full English' as their hot breakfast option - in other words, several types of meat products (usually sausage, bacon and often black pudding), fried eggs, rubbery and tasteless mushrooms, unripe, undercooked and totally tasteless tomato, and baked beans. Obviously half of this does not appeal to us as pescatarians, and even a vegetarian version tends to leave me cold. I understand this is a cultural thing, deeply embedded in the soul of Brits, but for myself I want to scream Please offer me something different! 

Thankfully no such dilemma presented itself at Belvidere Place. Peter does offer full English for those who would like it, but given our dietary preferences, each evening Peter offered suggestions as to what he might prepare for breakfast the next morning, using local, seasonal and sustainable produce. These included poached pear with toasted oats and Greek yogurt (obviously only Kevin indulged in the yogurt because *projectile vomit* I cannot be within a metre of the stuff without feeling nauseous), followed by poached eggs and mushrooms with thyme and lemon on thick slices of toasted grainy artisan bread. The second morning we were each presented with a whole baked apple in a spiced syrup, followed by poached smoked haddock with samphire. The latter indulged Kevin's predilection for fishy English breakfast delicacies such as kippers, which he rarely gets to eat. 

Everything was superb, and the dining experience was made all the lovelier by the vintage cutlery and crockery, plus proper linen napkins.


The guest lounge at Belvidere Place, on the ground level of the house



The sitting room at one end of our luxurious room in Belvidere Place, Broadstairs


Sunrise viewed from our bedroom window
(Belvidere Place is one street back from the beach)


Golden morning light on the hospitality tray,
which sits on a fabulous art deco tallboy



I don't usually post photos of loos, but the vintage-style toilet and cistern
were appreciated by Kevin who delighted in the opportunity to legitimately 'pull the chain'
(he often uses that expression when talking about flushing the loo)



The view from our bathroom over neighbouring backyards



Having completed a reasonable exploration of Broadstairs itself on our day of arrival, the next morning we decided to walk to Margate, following coastal paths and the occasional section of road. 

It's 10 kilometres of easy walking, with only slight inclines and a few sets of stairs if you choose to take sections of path right next to the sea. We planned our walk so that we could have lunch in Margate, before taking the train (about 10 minutes) back to Broadstairs.

There were plenty of interesting sights along the way.


Kingsgate Castle - built in 1760 by Henry Fox, the first Lord Holland.
Some years ago the Castle was divided into privately owned residences



Kingsgate Castle looms above Kingsgate Bay, just north of town in Broadstairs



House in Joss Bay, on the outskirts of Broadstairs, with North Foreland Lighthouse in tthe background



A modern house with Art Deco influences in Joss Bay, between Broadstairs and Margate



The modern architecture in Joss Bay reminded me of coastal houses in Australia 



The white cliffs of Kingsgate Bay, on our 10km walk from Broadstairs to Margate


Margate is quite sprawling and, it has to be said, not a particularly attractive town. 

In the late Victorian era and into the 1930s it was a holiday destination with famed entertainment venues which are a must at British seaside resorts, given the unreliability of the weather. Margate had a lido as well as Dreamland, which some of you will recognise as the set for Olivia Coleman's recent film, Empire of Light. Like Brighton and Southend, this town experienced gang violence between the Mods and Rockers in the 1960s, and again between Mods and Skinheads in the 1980s. 

Sadly, by the early 2000s the town was in serious decline and it's only in the past decade or so that significant investment has been made to regain some of the town's former appeal. This has included construction of the Turner Contemporary, a very modern art gallery built on the site of the boarding house where JMW Turner stayed during his visits to Margate. It follows the trend of offering cultural options for visitors to coastal towns (eg the Tate St Ives in Cornwall). The gallery doesn't actually have any Turner pictures, and in fact no permanent collection at all, instead a rolling programme of exhibitions. However the building was envisaged to celebrate the life and work of Turner, who found inspiration in the town's skies and light and believed in the power of art as an agent for change.

At the other end of the architectural spectrum is crimes-against-architecture Arlington House, a 1964 Brutalist tower block which has often been named as the ugliest building in Kent (see photo further below).


Margate’s iconic monolith for The Lido at Margate. The Lido was developed in the 1920s by John Henry Iles, who also built Dreamland.
Artist Tracey Emin learnt to swim at the Margate Lido!



Dreamland: entertaining visitors to the Margate seaside since 1920,
and recently used as a set in the Sam Mendes film Empire of Light



We weren't able to squeeze into Wildes for lunch - packed solid!
But it was a fortunate thing, because just around the corner we stumbled upon a mostly vegetarian and vegan pizza place


Shopfronts in gelato colours in the Old Town


Margate Off Licence and bar - looking more like a traditional French café or tabac, to my eyes!




Turner Contemporary, on the seafront at Margate


Antony Gormley’s sculpture ‘Another Time’ which is embedded in the sand at Margate,
in front of the Turner Contemporary Art Gallery.
It's only visible during low tide and a few hours either side

 
Cockles. Whelks. Jellied Eels.
Er... no thanks!




Kevin on Margate beach, with THAT architectural eyesore in the background


All in all, Margate turned out to be 'not as bad as I'd expected' (ha ha). Certainly the area called the Old Town has been made pretty with money having been spent on historic buildings which now house hip little cafés and restaurants. And really, it's nice to still be able to see the history of such places as they've moved from posterity to decline and back again. 


Kill Me Now gallery in Margate.
My beady eye spotted the famous David Bowie mug shots in the window (from his arrest in NYC in 1976), from 50 paces!


...and Margate gets extra points for this!

On our second evening in Broadstairs we dined out in honour of Kevin's birthday at a fabulous Italian restaurant called The Little Sicilian, which thank goodness I had booked weeks ahead. 

Rightly or wrongly, I always think if an Italian restaurant has actual Italians serving, it must be OK. In fact I apply that logic to any cuisine. In other words I'm gratified if I see Indian patrons when dining in an Indian restaurant, and so on. The Little Sicilian is a family business run by Italian born immigrants and this is evident in the menu which departs from the generic fare one is usually offered in British Italian restaurants. Kevin was able to indulge his love of seafood including fresh mussels, which he's never able to resist (unless they are prepared in the French style, ie in a creamy sauce - which does not appeal). We'd saved room for dessert and after interrogating our charming Italian waiter I indulged in my first tiramisu in something like ten years. It's very heavily dairy-based, obviously, and not the sort of thing I eat very often, but if you can actually taste the coffee and the chocolate, truly tiramisu is a thing of beauty - a light-as-air, pillowy delight. Happy to say this version was up to the mark. 


Birthday dinner venue in Broadstairs: The Little Sicilian



This cute niche in one of the walls at The Little Sicilian showcased authentic Italian delicacies such oils and vinegars



Cheers!
The birthday boy enjoying a glass of Prosecco at The Little Sicilian in Broadstairs


Naturally the Kent coast is not what most people would consider 'at its best' at the end of winter. However I've always preferred beaches in winter and that goes doubly for beaches in England because, oh *lordy* they are rammed with thousands of people in summer. I would not even consider heading to an English beach between May and September; it's just not worth the grief - the traffic congestion, the litter, the drunks... 

This stretch of coastline has long been popular with day-trippers from London and elsewhere, given its beaches are sandy rather than shingle (much of the coastline of neighbouring county Sussex is shingle beach, eg Brighton, Worthing etc).

I'm happy to have expanded my horizons by exploring this little corner of England, but I'm not sure I would make concerted efforts to return - although we would both love to spend another couple of nights at Belvidere Place, and to renew our acquaintance with host extraordinaire Peter. 


On our way back to Surrey we stopped in at the charming town of Sandwich, 20 minutes drive south of Broadstairs.
This view over the town was from the top of St Peter's Church (we climbed the bell tower)


As usual, I end this post with some images of what we've been up to most recently and also of our local environment. 

The photos of Frensham, below were taken in the second week of March when winter decided it would have a final hurrah. We received our one and only proper snowfall of the entire season.


Our backyard at Frensham - a very late snowfall in early March


OK, so it's not one of the old-fashioned pillar boxes but still looks quintessentially British




The final shots below relate to what will take its place as one of the year's social highlights - seeing Morrissey perform live at the Eventim Apollo in Hammersmith on 19 March, as the final concert of his sold-out European tour. Long term readers of this blog will know of my love for this complex, sometimes frustrating but highly intelligent, brave and talented man (see my post from almost exactly five years ago - Loyalty). 

This was only the third time I've seen Moz live and in all honesty, I wonder how long he will continue touring. He'll shortly turn 64 and who knows when the next opportunity to bask in the golden light of his genius will eventuate. 

The whole experience was sublime, from the time we left our front door. With continuing industrial disruption to rail services (Solidarity with the workers!), we opted to drive to Hammersmith and had a dream run, arriving there within an hour and easily finding unrestricted and *free* on-street parking... in London! We strolled along Castelnau, the thoroughfare that leads up to Hammersmith Bridge, and enjoyed some very good coffee at a tiny little place we've previously visited, before walking across the bridge and heading to our favourite restaurant, The Gate, for an early supper.

As usual our meal at The Gate was heavenly, and we emerged from the restaurant to find the queue for the Apollo had just reached the path outside (The Gate is only 100 metres away). So we joined the queue and, after snaking along winding barricades for about 10 minutes, we eventually made it inside this lovely venue. What followed was one of the best concerts of my life, with Morrissey being in a fabulous mood and on very good form - we were the fortunate recipients of many moments of his famously dry wit. Then it was another dream run home and we were tucked up in bed before midnight!

The last time I was at the Apollo was to see Kate Bush in 2014, and of course this is where almost 50 years ago (July 1973) David Bowie famously 'retired' Ziggy Stardust, back when the venue was called the Hammersmith Odeon. How fortunate that I've been able to see two of my three biggest musical heroes performing in that venue, and the third will forever be associated with it.


Morrissey's name in lights - Eventim Apollo in Hammersmith, London


Morrissey performing one of his fans' favourite songs, Alma Matters
- at the Hammersmith Apollo


A horribly grainy shot during Moz's final song of the night.
As is traditional, that t-shirt is about to be torn off and tossed into the mosh pit
where there will be a frenzy (mostly heterosexual men!) to tear a shred as a souvenir


I am absolutely crap at taking these kinds of selfies. How does one do it? Tips appreciated!
Anyway... Yours Truly modelling my new Morrissey sweatshirt, purchased from
the merch stand at the Apollo in Hammersmith



Until next time,

- Maree  xo


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