Ramsgate

A night away - and here I am in Ramsgate, home of the architect A.W. Pugin - more about Pugin tomorrow, I hope - I'm actually in the room above the one in which Princess Victoria recovered from typhoid fever, and the whole place has the air of faded Victoriana and Edwardiana.   This is what it looked like in Frith's painting of 1852-4, when it was a favorite day trip from London as well as a bathing resort.  That very large house, end-on, just to the right of center at the top of the cliff?  That's where I'm staying.  Above, channeling my inner Martin Parr - is it possible to photograph the seaside any more without doing?

And it's no wonder Turner liked painting here, as well as Margate - this is the moon, tonight.

This was my favorite seagull pic.

The Edwardian lift down to the beach is seeking funds for repair, so that it can open again.

An excellent view from the cliff top.

And here, a curving street down to the sands - with the Rubber Chicken House to the left.  Ramsgate's very likeable, not at all crowded, and slightly strange - much of it seems caught in about 1982.