What's the SP then was Mrs G's usual morning question today. She uses SP in her way to ask what's the plans then. She also said she had no idea what she would cook for our evening meal. How about for a complete change we do Moules Mariniere I said. Our son and daughter in law with grandson Louis have been in the South of France for two weeks and they make a point of posting pictures of their seafood on FB. 'Good idea' she said, 'we can go to Whitstable and get some on the quay'. Right, sorted.
This will only be a very short tale of our morning but Whitstable, about 6 miles from home, is one of the few remaining Victorian towns that has retained a working harbour and the old part still has many of the old fishermans cottages right on the beach. It really came into its own in 1830 with the arrival of the railway but had been a fishing port for centuries before that. I have mentioned my own associations with the town; my grandfather was an oyster dredger and my mother was born there in 1913 in a cottage that regrettably no longer exists. Whitstable deserves a longer account but this is just a summary of this mornings trip.
As it is bank holiday most of the small working fishing boats were in harbour today but the fish 'market' was open as usual with an array of fresh fish to beat any supermarket counter. In the left bottom corner of this picture you will see what was to become our tea, about a kilo and a quarter of mussels.
This pano of the harbour shows how small it is but well protected because the outlet to the sea is at the far left and at right angles. An uncle and his wife used to run a Thames Barge from here to London carrying various goods.
From where the pano was taken there is a seafood stall owned by Mr West and operated by his grand daughter. Mr West, the older man opening the oysters, is one of the men sorting whelks in another picture on another thread. He knew my uncle and a cousin who were both fishermen. Anyhow we could not resist sampling some Native Whitstable oysters. So good we could still taste them more than an hour later.
One of my objectives was to find two houses displaying blue plaques (still working through my 'Blue Plaques I-spy book' Jay)
We could not find either mostly because the old backstreets are so narrow you cannot stop in a car. Will go again on foot another day. One is for Peter Cushing who retired to Whitstable with his wife Helen, absolutely loved the place and installed a seat at a point on the beach walk where Peter used to sit regularly. I will show more when I do a bigger piece on Whitstable.
It has been a very grey day and very few of the yacht club members had launched their boats. Parked in a back garden there is a Whitstable yaul, Favourite, built 1890. More about that next time but suffice to say there were about 100 such boats at the turn of the 19th century and this is the only one remaining and is subject of a restoration project.
Towards the west the beach path reaches an isolated pub, The Old Neptune, and then continues on to Seasalter where another very well known TV personality has a home.
I will cut it there except to say, the moules frittes were delicious.
Yes there were 4 or 5 that didn't open, I know the rules. 
Will never live in UK again, would starve to death with those prices, my cockles or clams cost 5 euros a litre, you have to be quick to the market before they are gone - - - They usually stick a couple of oysters in even tho I say I dont like them - 
- the dog does 
