Nice to see you

Whitstable is an achingly chichi little town. In the main street, approximately every other shop is an art gallery. Here nothing is old, everything is vintage. Vintage houses, vintage pubs, vintage tableware, vintage clothes, vintage charity shops -- even the greengrocer is chic, and there is a stupendously good cheese shop. It is very charming, and one of the nicest things about it is that there are almost no chain shops on Harbour Street -- the shops are mostly locally owned businesses, and as well as the tourist-oriented shops there are genuine pubs, greengrocers, butchers, and the essential pound shop or two. It has its own local version of Banksy too, called Catman; he painted this Mona Lisa just a couple of weeks ago, and he has a few other works dotted about.

Saturday was spent helping with preparations for H's 6oth birthday celebration. There wasn't that much to do; we inexpertly iced fairy cakes and made marshmallow hats, among other things. We also found time to go for a walk and visit a quirky little pub called The Black Dog, where S had his fix of proper English beer, and I had some Kentish cider.

The party was held in a local hall, with two live bands; the second band was a vintage rock and roll band who got everyone dancing. It was all good fun, and a late night, hence backblipping again.