Mining the Diaries 90: England
Crescent Victoria Hotel, Margate 14th October 2018
I think T S Eliot did Margate a disservice in 1922 when he wrote:
On Margate Sands./I can connect/Nothing with nothing./The broken fingernails of dirty hands./My people humble people who expect/Nothing.
It most probably had a fine beach then, as it does now. But was it as plagued by herring gulls then as it is today? Visitors have thought it fun to throw the birds scraps and enjoyed the ensuing combative aerial acrobatics. Successful opportunists, the gulls have become used to the easy pickings and the sight of a sandwich or fish and chips tempts hooligan gangs into aggressive acts of piracy. We watched a marauding immature gull steal the fish lunch from an unsuspecting girl sitting on the New Kings Stairs. More savvy eaters, aware of the risk, keep their food hidden.