Saturday 20 August 2016

Looking at life



I just got back from a week in Margate. We rented a lovely house in a quiet seafront area and enjoyed a week of wonderful weather with the extended family. Of course we ate too much and drank too much, but there were no arguments and no fights so everyone had a good time.

I have never been to Margate before, and only really knew of it by reputation from the 60s, when every bank holiday it seems there was an invasion by rival gangs of Mods and Rockers who would use the beach and  the town to brawl and terrorise the innocent.

Margate is a lovely place; it looks a little tired, but it has been a holiday Mecca for much of London for a long while, and they still arrive each day in their droves, bravely setting up camp on the sands and purchasing the cheap plastic rubbish that seaside towns seem to have in endless supply. Many will head for Dreamland - a traditional fairground, designed to take away as much tourist cash as possible in the least possible time. Sadly the place is in administration, though still attracting swarms of visitors despite the terrible inefficiencies involved in taking people's money. Queues are the norm and the staff don't seem to care one way or the other, hardly surprising really.

I like to watch people, and it seemed that the world and his wife visit Margate. Probably a good cross section of the outer London population. It was so nice to see huge Asian families in full traditional costumes, picnicking in the heat and surrounded by scantily clad others, slowly grilling in the sun. So many acres of flesh on display, much of it obese, covered in ghastly tattoos and handfuls of sunscreen. What is is about a beach that makes people want to expose their bodies, however unsightly they may be?

On a completely different note, I have had my chest scan and now have an appointment for a scan on my head. I am rather hoping that they find nothing in either; at least nothing that should not be there.

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