27 August, 2007 | Leave a Comment
“Have you ever tasted a Whitstable oyster?”
That is the first line of Sarah Water’s novel Tipping the Velvet (a wonderful book!). Yesterday I tasted a Whitstable oyster, the most famous in England. Actually, I tried an oyster for the very first time ever. I’ve never been tempted to try an oyster — they look disgusting. I love shellfish, but oysters? No thanks. However, I was in Whitstable, so I thought it was the perfect time to lose my oyster virginity.
After the waitress brought the oysters to the table, I said to her, “I’ve never eaten an oyster before. I don’t know what to do.” And she said, “I think you just slurp it down whole. Personally, I hate oysters.” And then as she walked away, she said — “Be sure not to drink any vodka after that — you’ll throw up.”
With that ringing endorsement, I cut off one tiny piece of an oyster and ate it. And that, my friends, was my first — and last — oyster eating experience. In a word: Yuck. How anyone could eat something that repulsive is beyond me.
Whitstable is a lovely little seaside town in Kent. It was nice to see the ocean, though beach towns aren’t really my scene — they’re too crowded and noisy and full of bratty adults and their even brattier kids. This is the second British beach I’ve been to and neither of them had sandy beaches, but featured rocky shores instead. What’s the deal with that? There are other weird things to be seen on British beaches. For example:
As far as the eye could see. Your guess is as good as mine.
It was a fun little break for the Bank Holiday weekend– and the countryside as viewed from the train was stunning. But after a few hours I was itching to get back to London. I missed it! The older I get, the more difficult I find it to be in small towns. I have no idea why, but I’m becoming increasingly attached to city life. When I was younger and living in NYC, I felt more ambivalent about living in the city. But then, NYC is a dump. [Oh, I'm just kidding! Well, sorta.]
Here are a few more photos of Whitstable, which features colorful little beach huts:
The town is filled with narrow alleyways, like this one [Squeeze Gut Alley]:
And finally, this graffiti at the train station:
Anglofille said @ 9:17 pm | travel |
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Rebecca Says:
August 28th, 2007 at 1:54 amI like oysters… They’re tasty with a bit of horseradish and cocktail sauce.
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Bob Says:
August 28th, 2007 at 4:23 amThose walls on te beach are probably to keep them from washing away. If you can’t use the beach, who cares?
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You had to go to Whitstable now didn’t ya??? I live very close by, if it wasn’t for the fact I am in Spain, we could have hooked up. Ah well, maybe another time!!
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ps I wasn’t responsible for the graffiti!!!
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You mean I missed my chance to hang out with an anarchist at the seaside? Drats!
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Hey, don’t knock it until you have tried it!!
