Margate and Westgate on Sea, August '23.
I quite like Margate and the Turner Gallery, and the area around Cliftonville. There's one or two decent second hand bookshops and pleasant places to eat. The skies
are extraordinary around there at most times of the year, only really Morecambe Bay and the North East of Scotland challenge the Thanet skies for beauty. Yes the art/ antiques / crafts is prominent in a way that would have been unimaginable in the 1980s and 1990s but the old Buster Bloodvessel Margate is still there- just older, much sicker, and much less visible. Art hasn't totally papered over those fissures. There's still a little sense of danger / violence / anger there some weekends. Ramsgate seems a little more relaxed, if a little more odd.
An ideal flat would be at the top of what we refer to as "Soviet Margate"; the big tower block above Dreamland. I'm not sure if people still live there but the views from the top floors must be astonishing.
Margate FC is a decent day out even if the ground is half finished and otherwise a jumble of portakabins and shipping containers. There's been some endless planning saga around building a Travel Lodge which has never quite come off, the money from that was suppsoed to propel the club up the footballing pyramid. For whatever reason it;s never quite happened.
Westgate is more God's waiting room, full of old buffers with a lot of retirement money to sit on, like old buzzards trying to keep a fossilised egg warm. The place is full of affluent charity shops and classic cars. Last time I was there there was an old timer proudly humming along in an immaculately polished burgundy Morris Minor convertible which he had made electric- that conversion alone wouldn't have left much change out of 30k.
Birchington was probably a nice village once upon a time but now horrid with traffic, and folk there seem to have harder lives working in the local shops and farms just to keep afloat. It's permanently choked with seething off-the-motorway traffic, great big arterial clots of vehicle trying to squeeze through it's narrow veins, and the shopfronts and houses have a greying consumptive's air to them.