Bright Ideas

Each year, on my birthday, I have an urgent need to see the ocean.  I can't quite explain it.  I think the ocean that is blue and wide and far, is perhaps, life-affriming.  Didn't we all begin life anchored in waters before we began our descent?

Cornwall is not within my budget having spent half a month at Number 16.  Brighton is too popular for my liking.  My lovely friend K looked at the map and suggested, Margate.

Margate on the speed train from St Pancras is about 80 mins away from London.  I did some research.  There are two camps of thoughts.  That Margate is getting hip again with the new Turner Contemporary out by the sea front, independent art galleries, vintage stores and dog-friendly cafes.  The other perspective simply described Margate as, "East Berlin", or "ugly", "to be avoided".

My curiosity was piqued.  So here we are.  In Margate.

Remember TS Eliot?  The Wasteland?  "On Margate sands/ I can connect/ Nothing with nothing./"

I found a really sweet place to stay, and I was THIS close to pitching a travel story to my editor at The Straits Times.  The sky is clear, the ocean is glimpsed from the arriving train.  

Turner Contemporary

But when I take a walk around Old Town (described as "rejuvenated") and the sea front beyond the Turner Contemporary above, all I feel is a sense of neglect, and despondency.  

Yesterday, I admit, I was in Belgravia, London.  Today, I am in Margate, Kent.  I am not opposed to urban decay.  I mean, back in the day, I lived in the heart of the East Village before it became hip and overpriced.  When my husband first met me, he immediately relocated me to his hotel on the Upper East Side, where he had a view (one tree) of Central Park.

Bruno and I find a cafe where I can eat vegetarian for 4 pounds.  We are the only ones there.  We sit outside so that in the event someone tries to attack us, I can scream and run.  

Margate has all the ingredients for a revival- historical architecture, an amazing ocean, and contemporary art.  But if London's energy is inert, Margate feels as if it's given up on life altogether.  Many stores are boarded up, and there are groups of men shirtless, shouting, cursing away, drinking at the el fresco areas of Old Town.  I see a few tourists- lost and stunned.    

The B & B we are staying at faces a beautiful square.  But when we visit the square, we find it is filled with litter and dog poop.

Bruno treads carefully...

K texts me-  " What ARE you enjoying??"

I'm having a great birthday.  I am enjoying the ocean, Bruno's company, two glasses of wine, that at 43 years old, I am healthy, happy, unafraid.  The seagulls are madly calling out.  We make it back to our room safely.  I have some wonderful friends- you know who you are.  I am enjoying what it feels like to be alive, to be loved, and to be loving.

Some folks have come to Margate to shake things up.  I wish them all the very best.