When I was a boy, a prelude that in future years will tell Kit to stop listening because: a) It will be boring, b) he will have heard it before, and c) he will be hearing it again…
Anyway, when I was a boy, the Isle of Thanet was a regular holiday destination. It had great beaches, Turner's sunsets, Dreamland amusement park, saucy postcards, candyfloss, false teeth made entirely of sugar (without irony) and fake pints of beer for to help children follow their fathers into alcoholism.
Ah, those innocent, slightly crass days, when jellied eels were excusable and a holiday snog could make you feel the longing romance of American Graffiti, but without the cool cars or any hope of further education.
But soon cheap flights to Spain and the growing sophistication of the populace (again, no irony) saw tourism die a slow, tortuous death on the Kent Coast. Jobs disappeared, shops closed, Dreamland decayed and the region became one of the most deprived in Europe - the perfect place for Kit's first experience of the English seaside. It would lower his expectations in life, just like his fledgling support for Charlton Athletic.
Personally I love a ramshackle seaside town, especially out of season, in the drizzle. But now, after decades of decline the place is picking itself up.
We went down to see the new gallery, the Turner Contemporary, which I enjoyed. I particularly liked its size: small. I get gallery fatigue if I'm viewing exhibitions for more than 9 minutes, often resulting in a headache or a pulled hamstring.
Kit likes any gallery as he can crawl for what seems like miles before getting tackled and tickled. He loved the beach and didn’t want to leave but would prefer the sea was removed entirely.
I enjoyed the Lifeboat, a pub that's a beacon of hope in the rejuvenated Old Town and doesn't suffer the 11am rush that some of the other establishments do.
Margate's in a strange, almost adolescent, phase of transformation going from deprivation toward gentrification, with some uncomfortable overlaps of tagged, shaven mouth-breathers juxtaposed with chi-chi shops and cafes. It sometimes looks like the Addams Family Go On Holiday.
But it’s also retained some of its old charm and eccentricities, like the Shell Grotto, the pinball parlour and the Mad Hatter café, where it's always Christmas. It's just bonkers enough to get us back next year, at least until Kit's old enough to press for a proper holiday, where it's just nice and he doesn't have to appreciate a bit of weirdness to 'get it'. Still, that's years away.
