The real secret behind Margate’s revival isn’t so much the restored Dreamland amusement park, but the trains. A decade ago, it gained high-speed, InterCity-like trains to St Pancras, putting it within 90 minutes of London.
Before the trains get to Margate they stop in Whitstable, which I remember as a bit of a hole in the 1970s. I went back recently and couldn’t believe how horrible the beach is — black sludge, sharp stones and shells. But then I got to the quayside and it was all posh seafood restaurants.
Accessibility as much as native charm has made Whitstable one of the most remarkable turnaround stories of any seaside town over the past 20 years. It is close enough to London to have become a weekend destination for the middle classes who can slurp their oysters while sending Barnaby and Chloe to run around on the black sludge in their wetsuits.
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