Um, Ramsgate. Or so it seems.
Here's the story. Last night I'm at a chum's wine bar in Bloomsbury, when this billionaire City type at the next table starts telling his pals in a very loud voice how he's relocating to Ramsgate. Part of his plan appeared to be to buy up RAF London Kent Ramsgate Manston International Airport so that he didn't have those ancient jumbos coming in to land ten feet above his bonce, and turn it into a housing estate cum wind farm. Apart from retaining a small helicopter landing pad so he could commute to the City in 30 minutes. I kid you not.
Then tonight I'm slumming it in the World's End in Chelsea, when a couple of rather camp TV director types at the table opposite start going on about how they're planning to buy a place in Ramsgate if their new Channel 4 series comes off.
Now I know I'm a bit of a trend setter, but this is getting ridiculous. The next thing you know, I'll be earwigging London conversations about how people are buying properties in Margate. No, no that's too silly for words.
4 comments:
Indeed Mr ER, how right you are! Since the screening of the infamous C4 property porn show 'location location location' on Ramsgate, the urbanites have come a-flocking, although give them a full year on the this septic isle and an introduction to the more challenging inhabitance we 'house' and they will be back up to the metropolis before you can say "but darling when i saw the Waitrose i thought it would all be loverly" However i digress, a chum in the estate agents has told me they (the urbanites) are queuing before nine on the weekends, buying up everything in Ramsgate and maybe a little off Broadstairs, he hasn't seen a local in weeks ... but they all say to my esate agaent chum "show me anywhere but Margate"...
Well there's confirmation, as they say on the footie shows.
And to confirm the confirmation, as it were, I'm already hearing tales of Hampstead Heathers, Crouch Enders and Muswell Hillbillies who have spent a few months or a year on their 'dream island' only to sell up (at a profit) and run screaming back to Norf London, where they can get a decent latte, organic falafels and intensive psychotherapy.
What a shallow life you lead Mr Richard, earwiggin indeed! next time I spot you in my local McThorleys I shall ask that you be removed pronto
Au contraire! You can't help but hear these people's conversations. I suppose if you spend your life baying SELL BP! down a telephone, it becomes your natural manner of speech!
Post a Comment