Walking Round Broadstairs
I don’t remember Broadstairs much from my childhood, although I did recognise a house that was in a similar style to the one where my uncle lived. But his house seemed to have been replaced with a modern one.
We did walk along the beach and I had a pretty good lunch and some beers, which was the object of going to the town.
The Beach Comes To St. Pancras
I took this picture at St. Pancras station yesterday on my way to Broadstairs.
The Beach Comes To St. Pancras
There didn’t appear to be a spare deck-chair.
Off To Broadstairs Today
In a moment, I leave for St. Pancras to get the fast train to Broadstairs, ostensibly to have lunch and a few sherbets with an old mate.
I have memories of the town, where we used to go to visit my father’s brother. I always thought that he never fathered any children, until I met one of his grandsons, who traced back to a wartime bigamous marriage. Every family has skeletons and mine has more than most.
The strangest thing now, is that when I go on a trip like this, I now make sure the house is tidy before I leave.
The Anonymous Widower 