Deller, Margate and Broadstairs: part 2

I really didn't want to leave that huge comfy bed in The Reading Rooms, with its silky white sheets and big fluffy pillows, but the trouble with B&Bs is that they involve breakfast. After a quick walk-in shower, there was a knock on the door and mine arrived on a butler tray set down by the window overlooking the square. I'd opted for scrambled eggs on toast with smoked salmon plus lots of other things, including a juicered juice with the zing of ginger in there somewhere. As I waited for Dan to show me Margate's best coffee shops, had a quick chat with Louise and Liam (who's from Bury!), the owners. Louise has a blog about Margate architecture, well worth a look, especially the article about the Pre-Raphaelite studio in Birchington.



After a proper cappuccino at the Proper Coffee House (check out the decor in the Gents) and a visit to the sub-station where the Mr Solo gig took place, I bid my farewell to guide Dan and boarded the Loop bus to Broadstairs. Now when I was last here in 2010 I caught a bus to Ramsgate, that went through Broadstairs but didn't actually go down the front, so I was determined to have a look this time. As the bus turned off the High Street, I could see it was one of those roads that go down, down, down. Which meant just one thing: on the way back it would be up, up, up.



Broadstairs is what Mapp and Lucia would call 'quaint', with olde world shoppes and pubs. At the front, I could see that the beach and harbour were a long way further down, and the lift was chained up (until Summer?).



Ah well, I had a little stroll past Morelli's ice cream parlour, but being full up with breakfast and proper coffee didn't pop in, and on to the bandstand, then headed inland. Broadstairs, tick.



I cheekily caught a Loop bus up to the station and had a look at the Crampton Tower museum (closed until March). Then I had a wait for the Ramsgate train, caught the Charring Cross train to Ashford, then had another wait for the late Brighton train. This unexpectedly decided to terminate at Eastbourne, so I decanted at Hampden Park, crossed the footbridge and caught a slow train to Brighton, which was fine by me as I could get off at London Road. There are still things I haven't seen in Margate: the shell grotto, the lift and Lido tower in Cliftonville, so I will be back!

[More photos on Flickr]

Deller, Margate and Broadstairs: part 1

You can't beat a bit of local knowledge and you can't do better than Dan Thompson (late of Worthing, now resident of up-and-coming Margate) as your personal guide. The Jeremy Deller exhibition was ending on Sunday so I booked me a Tuesday night at the highly recommended boutique B&B The Reading Rooms and set off in the direction of Ashford International. I wasn't looking forward to an hour's wait for the Margate Flyer, but when I got there slightly early I was able to jump on the Javelin an hour earlier than planned. The Fat Controller's computer obviously thought it would take me more than 4 minutes to change platforms.



Dan was waiting for me at the very grand station and we took a moment to appreciate the exterior, especially the plaques, as we paused once more down the road at Dreamland.



I caught a glimpse of Dreamland and its vintage roller coasters from the train as I arrived and am looking forward to its restoration. We could see the Turner Contemporary across the bay and headed for it along the beach.

 

The signage identifying it is very minimal, but it was pretty obvious this was a modern art gallery. I'd been to Margate once before, to see a Mr Solo gig, and I'm assuming it wasn't yet built then (in 2010). The inside of the Turner is very light and spacious, with lockers, a bookshop and cafe on the ground floor - and they don't mind you taking photos. The Deller show English Magic was upstairs and was mainly (I think, I haven't read the info yet) a rerun of his Venice Biennale show. In the first room were some real Turners, and a big mural of William Morris flinging Roman Abramovich's gin palace Luna into the briny, entitled We sit starving amidst our gold, painted by Stuart Sam Hughes. Deller is perhaps the most accessible conceptual artist and it's notable that he makes nothing himself, acting more as a sort of curator, and everything has a left-leaning socialist subtext.



The next room had a film of owls, a Stonehenge bouncy castle and the crushing of land rovers, with a catchy steel band soundtrack, and I'll bet not many folks realised the bench they were sitting on was one of those squashed cars. The final gallery (we pass through rooms with drawings by prisoners and soldiers, and photos taken the year of David Bowie's Ziggy tour 1972-3) has another big mural A good day for cyclists (Sarah Tynan) depicting a hen harrier carrying off another Range Rover and a display of prehistoric axes and arrowheads.



There was a 'touching station' were we were allowed to handle some flint axes and look at a William Morris printing block. I watched the patient curator try to explain the concept of relief printing to a gentleman who just didn't get it. Had he waited until 3pm the other station would have opened, where rubber stamps of the two murals explained the process simply and effectively. These were just two of the giveaways at the exhibition - Deller is very generous with his prints, etc. It closes on Sunday so get your skates on.



After a wander about the Old Town, Dan delivered me to Hawley Square and the B&B so posh it doesn't have a sign outside. I was in the first floor Room 1 and it was gorgeous, far too grand for the likes of me, with every conceivable luxury, including heated floorboards, two sinks! and a walk in shower.

For an early supper, Dan collected me and we went down to the front to GB Pizzas - I had a Jerusalem artichoke, hazelnut and rocket one, plus a bottle of Whitstable ale. Then after we braved the harbour cobb to find a micropub hidden away there - The Harbour Arms - for a pint of Norfolk Brewhouse Moon Gazer Black IPA (yes, I thought IPA was pale too). Then it was back to the B&B to watch Silent Witness and Count Arthur Strong before losing myself in the giant comfy bed!

Read what Roundhill Rob had to say on Thanet.