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Margot.


Spent a beautifully sunny morning exploring the beach town of Margot.Wanted to catch the art gallery in the beach.There was an ode to TS Eliot's 'wasted land' through and through.I took time to soak the the paintings,read the poetries and just drank in the place as I walked along.Margot has history,it has developed into an art town with beautifully painted ,colourful buildings by the sea beach where everybody and their brother were enjoying the sun on a saturday.
The old Margate had art studios and antique shops galore.I pounced on a Victorian and Edwardian cutlery for home.
Picked up a newspaper designed especially in memory of the days when TS Eliot wrote his 'wasted land ' in Margot in the 1920s.It had articles and clips from newspapers back then with clips about the town's prized landmarks.
Even the walls in the town had small clips of stories to tell..about prisoner's of war sharing their meals as free people with foster families,of youngsters working in the restaurants by the sea,of ladies whose spouses were in faraway country and about mermaids of Margot.

'April is the cruellest month ,breeding
Lilacs out of dead land,mixing
Memory and desire,stirring
Dull roots with spring rain...'

April,a cruel month? Not to forget the first world war was just over and there were devils ,I am sure everyone was fighting with including Eliot himself who had an unhappy marriage in the domestic front too,it seems.
I sat on the cold cement floor of the railway station as I scoured 'the Promonade'from 1920 and enjoyed every bit of it.Even the part where T.S Eliot's wife Vivienne writes a morose dairy about her days in Margot.
Promonade and antiques.


Almost home.


Autumn

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