A walk in Ramsgate

Like I said in the earlier post; at one point in our Ramsgate stay I went out for a walk on my own to have a look around. These stairs led the way from the marina walk up to the top of the cliff above.

I had no real idea of where I was going, apart from that I wanted to find the house that Vincent Van Gogh stayed in when he worked as a teacher at an all boys school here in 1876, in the years when he was trying to find his way, before he devoted himself completely to painting. It’s really interesting to walk around somewhere unfamiliar on your own, it feels slightly surreal, but also adventurous? Maybe one day I should go on a trip on my own, just for a different experience. I remember decades ago, when I used to work on a magazine, and I had to go to Folkestone for the day to take pictures. It was one of the most surreal experiences of my life. Not for any reason in particular; just the strangeness of being somewhere new, with no one else to share it with.

Even as seed heads poppies are so beautiful - aren’t they?

A Victorian wind shelter being used.

I had no idea where I was going at this point. I just followed my nose. This flint stone church looked really impressive.

The Granville, a huge Victorian Gothic style hotel that was converted into flats in 1947. Apparently the tower used to be even higher, but got truncated at some point. So quirky!

This sign above the entrance to the Ramsgate Tunnels caught my eye. I mean, how could it not? The Ramsgate Tunnels used to be part of the Victorian railway, that went straight out of London to the Granville Hotel. In WW2, on today’s date in 1940, 500 bombs were dropped over Ramsgate, destroying over 1,200 houses, and as a result about 300 families moved into the tunnels, that had already been added to so it could function as an air raid shelter. People lived there for the next five years, turning it into a subterranean town with shops, barbers, an underground hospital, and it even held concerts. You can see old footage of what it was like here.

The Pulhamite rock garden on Madeira Walk, built to entice holiday makers to spend more time in the town. Pulhamite rocks are in fact not rocks, but rubble and cement put together to look like natural rock.

And to our 21st century eyes it’s obvious that they’re fake.

How’s this for a mishmash of styles? And why is the brown and pink house turned on an angle like that?

Getting closer to the Van Gogh house now. I thought this Art Deco (I’m assuming) block of flats looked cool.

And this former deli, now a house, looked interesting too. Look at all them vintage pendant lights innit.

Knitted ice cream bunting. Well I never.

Saw a few of these flint houses. This one was the cutest.

And, the colour of this pub got my approval.

Tadaa! And here it is - Vincent’s old digs. I don’t know if you can see them though the curtains on the ground floor, but there was a vase full on sunflowers there. Like an homage.

And from sunflowers to weeds. I was out for a lot longer than I though I would be, so I started on my way back to the house via the marina. You have to admire weeds for being able to grow pretty much anywhere, like through the cracks of the marina wall.

Time for reflection.

And finally, these strangers, having some fish and chips, with a seagull eyeing them up.

Dreamy Ramsgate

Hey peeps. How’s summer been treating you? Ok I hope - despite everything? I’ve found it a bit strange and melancholy. I didn't feel comfortable or quite frankly flush enough to go abroad, and the successive lockdowns feels like it’s quashed most of what was our social life. But hey, there has been some good things too, and good people, and some new places to discover much closer to home. At the beginning of July me and Mr Famapa headed down to Ramsgate to visit some friends for the day, and being there was positively exotic.

So exotic that for some people it was perfectly acceptable to walk around with your shirt off. Well I guess we were by the sea, so why not?

Ahh the sea. I mean is this a view or is this a view? Our friends house is a truly eccentric beauty (more on that later), which they have done up beautifully . We thought we were only coming for lunch, but it turns out there was a miscommunication, and we were expected to stay the night. Luckily Oomoo was already on a sleepover, but unluckily I didn't have my glasses with me, or spare contact lenses.

So we hopped on bikes and cycled into the town centre, where at an optician’s I was kindly given some extra contact lenses for free (people can be so nice!!), and then got ourselves toothbrushes and everything else we needed from the chemist to see us through the night. At least I brought my camera, eh?

Lucky us though, because it meant we got to spend the night in this beautiful bed, with the view in the picture with the view that is a view.

The house used to be a photographer’s studio in the late 1890’s, and was built straight onto the cliff wall, as in the back of the house is the cliff wall.

And the whole front wall into the dining and living room area is just glass, with the most amazing light, or silhouettes - whichever you prefer.

A & E have impeccable taste, and I love how they salvaged a broken table football into a cool piece of wall art.

When they found the property it had been on the market for over a year, and I’m so glad they were the ones who got it, as they have turned into such a great space, with utmost respect to the house.

Yes, that view again.
Sorry (not sorry).

The lady of the manor, making me miss having short hair.

And this has to be the nicest shower room I’ve ever seen! Imagine the daily joy of looking out to a different seascape every day. Sigh.

Remember how I said the house was an eccentric beauty? Well, through a door from the utility room, off the kitchen, you come out into a set of tunnels that were old smugglers caves. There’s also a staircase in the rock wall that goes up to a hotel at the top of cliff, that Queen Victoria used to use (amongst other less historical hotel guests - all though probably not at the same time) to access the sea easier. In its heyday Ramsgate was a very popular sea resort, but the town has lost its glamour since the advent of charter holidays, like almost all British seaside towns.

Ironically, since I’m now a cold water lover, swimming in the North Sea is much more alluring now than any tropical beach. At one point in the day I took my camera out for a walk to check out the town and have a look at the architecture, but that’s a whole other post in itself.

Please don’t poo on me.

When I got back from my walk the house was asleep. All that sea air seemed to have tired everyone else out. As we didn’t know that we were staying over I hadn’t brought my book with me, so I had a look in the book shelves for something to read. To my surprise and relief I found the book I was reading! ‘Great Expectations’ by the brilliant Mr Charles Dickens. I managed to find where I was in it, but I also for some reason read the blurb on the back - which gave away the ending - doh. It was an old copy of the book, which might’ve explained why the publishers thought it was a good idea to do so, but a blurb should never give away the ending, right?

A had earlier in the day bought this puzzle in a bric a brac shop, and while I was away it had been put together, but with Ireland missing. A puzzling mystery indeed.

Once everyone woke up from their naps, we cycled to a pub for pre-dinner drinks in a nice spot by some sort of shallow pool and views across the sea (not in this direction obviously). Our phones thought we were in France and pinged with messages telling us so. If nothing else, my phone has at least been abroad this year.

Cycling back to the house.

Had to lie down for a bit and rest my legs and feet, from the walk and the bike rides.

A putting the finishing touches to our dinner that he had cooked outside in the wood fire oven.

The following morning, with the tide in, me and A went for a swim (I had at least packed my bathing suit!) in the +16c water, which was a perfect temperature. I stopped swimming in the Ladies Pond when the temp got to +19c in early June, as it was like swimming in soup and way too busy for my liking. But here in the sea we were the only ones in it, with people looking at us like we were crazy, or as one lady said as we got out to A: ‘Can I touch you? You must be Superman swimming in that cold water!’ A perfect way to end our 24hrs in Ramsgate - which now looking back on it felt a bit like a dream. Everything worked out perfectly, without us being prepared, and it made me realise how good it can feel to not have everything planned. To go with the flow. Must remember that as we head into an autumn/winter, wondering what’s coming next.