I see Our Lady Of The Soiled Bedsheet has been pontificating in today's Independent. Trace writes:
Margate for me should be somewhere I rejoice to come back to. A sort of spiritual place bound up in childhood memories and the fecundity of the sea. It should be a place of passion mixed up with Edwardian charm. A place of kinky contradictions, that's how Margate always used to be. But now every time I approach the Golden Mile I am filled with dread and fear of what I may think.
Every time I come here something has gone, something is missing. This time it's the scenic railway. Another time it's the big wheel. After the storms of 87 it was the pier. In the Eighties it was the entire Lido complex. Every single time I come something has been burnt, destroyed, fire bombed, boarded up, demolished or just completely forgotten about and left to go in to a tragic state of disrepair.
Tracey, take it from me luv, you're about the only thing the place has got left to crow about. Don't leave it too long until your next visit, otherwise you might find the whole place just one big pile of cinders!
Click here to read Tracey Emin's column in the Independent