We were tired and fattened and half drunk from dinner, but the early evening was warm and calm. Before the train back to London, we walked down along the shore to catch the last light that Whitstable Bay could spare. It was beautiful. We could have spent the night sleeping right there on the sand, but she’d already paid for the return tickets.
Tag: Whitstable
What we did at the oyster festivalÂ
One of the upsides to spending my weekends and summer holidays washing pots and dishes in a seafood restaurant on the Irish Coast as a teenager was that I was able to sample and acquire a taste for a wide range of strange and exotic foods whose very mention – almost without exception – induced…