Comically Relieved (of £41)

Well, thanks to the Day Nurse my green nose has finally dried up, and thanks to your comments those Red Nose people are 41 smackers better off!

Greed Doze Day

Dode forget, ebery comment today equals a quid to Comic Relief!

Green Nose Day

Dat's dorn it. I wad hoping to join Wossie and my udder showbiz chuds domorrow for de Red Dose Day extravanganza, bud I seem to have cud down wid a heavy cod.

To show I'm all heart, dough, I'm going to gib a shiny new quid to Comic Relief for ebery comment I ged on dis post.

Dat'll teach Dat Bloody Awful Doel for calling me a dight-arsed old dwad.

Wish You Were Here?

While Mr Ceaucescu (no relation) was in Margate filming the latest contribution to ECR TV, he popped into that tourist office on the piazza and picked up this:

A handy, postcard size guide to all the events happening here in Kent's Ramsgate Peninsula during the summer season. On closer examination, though, he was disappointed to find that the Kent Air Show had been scrubbed out in biro:

I had to inform him that the organisers had gone nipples up, and the leaflets were probably printed before the show was cancelled.

He seemed strangely disappointed, and said that his cousin in the Ministry of Information had specifically asked him to send home as many photographs of airplanes as he could. With that, he loaded his gear into his BMW and screeched off in the direction of Manston.

Margate - The Last Resort?

Mr Ceaucescu (no relation) bumped into Margate retailer and arts columnist Philip Page (aka Arts and Elbows) while he was on location yesterday.

While I was carousing at Elton's 60th, Mr Ceaucescu (no relation) has been up all night in the ensuite edit suite putting together this short film about regenerating the Arsonists' Playground through the arts. Not bad, if a bit dark and Eastern European for my liking. I mean, where are the gags?

Don't forget, tune in to ECR TV for more satirical insight into Kent's Ramsgate Peninsula!

Will The Last Person To Leave Margate Please Turn Out The Lights

One of my spies on the shabby north side of the peninsula tells me that this illuminated sign, welcoming people to the Arsonists' Playground, may never light up again.

Hanging over the High Street, apparently the sign was paid for by the few traders that are left. The switch to turn it on is in Warreners, the sports shop, and of course they packed up and skedaddled before Christmas (as reported here).

So now the sign won't be seen in it's full glory until the shop is leased again. Chances of that? Well one empty shop further up has had a 'to let' sign up for ten years. In that time the owner hasn't received a single inquiry.

So I've decided to give my ECR TV producer Mr Ceaucescu (no relation) the afternoon off to make a short film about the lights going out in Margate. Providing he finishes plumbing in those gold taps first, that is.

New Kids On The Blog

Another weekend, another couple of blogs.

Madpup in Thanet mixes splendid aerial photographs of Kent's Ramsgate Peninsula with rants about the state of the Ile, and is run by a fellow who used to provide mobile disco services to the cognoscenti.

Anthea Turner Around Margate is the story of one faded presenter's forlorn hope that the Arsonists' Playground could be tidied up a bit and maybe improved by putting a couple of pretty pictures above the fireplace.

Both have, um, a familiar ring about them. By the way, my review of these blogs has in no way been influenced by the fact that the first provides direct competition to my arch enemy, Dr Biggles, and the second has completely overlooked linking to Thanet's premier commentator, yours truly.

Nor has it been influenced by the fact that I'm feeling particularly peevish this morning having sunk the best part of half a bottle of Bombay Sapphire at the ECR TV launch party last night. Thank you.

Me TV

Now that I've got the hang of this BoobTube mullarkey, I've set up an entire channel devoted to moi.

All it needs now is for my crack team of highly trained producers to scour the island in search of corruption and scandal. Which they'll be doing as soon as they've finished the guest bathroom in the west wing.

Meanwhile, if you've got something you'd like to get off your chest in front of my prying eye, just leave a comment, or email me at eastcliffrichard.co.uk. With your help, and my BAFTA winning talent, we should be able to give KCC TV a run for their money!

The Film Of The Blog

Well what do you know - I've BoobTubed myself!

Who Wants To be In A Millionaires Magazine?

I do. Well, I am, to be more precise. Alongside articles about Johnny Depp and 'high-end dating'. Take a look.

If that doesn't put my career back on track, I don't know what will!

Give Us A Bigger Clu!

by Gazunder Property Editor Bentley Continental

Everyone's piling into property in Ramsgate! With the News of the World tipping Thanet's premier town as a millionaires' playground in the making, it's no wonder city slickers are desperate for a slice of the Ramsgate action.

Hot on the heels of news that Harbour Street Village is to be converted into a swish gastro pub, the Gazunder can now reveal that Ramsgate's Comfort Inn, formerly the San Clu, has applied for planning permission to build 22 luxury apartments and a top notch conference centre on adjacent land that has been empty since Jerry blitzed the place in World War II. Or was it World War I?

Anyway, a local millionaire, who didn't want to be named, told the Gazunder: 'This is great news for Ramsgate. The Tatler are touting Hastings as the new Notting Hill. If that's the case, Ramsgate must be the new Chelsea!'

Full details of the San Clu plans can be found here.

Two Million Hits!

According to my counterstaterometer, this site will soon clock up its two millionth hit. Not a bad record for just over a year of anonymous drivel.

Of course, driving traffic to your site isn't rocket science. Just fill it with interesting content. And if you're not up to that, just promise you'll stop posting once you've reached a certain target, then sit back and watch the numbers soar!

Toilet Humour

I see the council have finally got around to demolishing that public khazi on Victoria Parade, after getting planning permission to do the work in October 2003. All that remains is a huge patch of, er, dirt to remind us where it used to sit.

Now all they need to do is demolish the second, much larger khazi that stands next to it!

Nice Little Earner

Flaming pay packets! I see that the Chief Executive of Kent County Council is on £229,000 a year, according to a new report by the Taxpayers' Alliance.

Peter Gilroy is one of five UK council officers who earnt more than 200,000 smackers last year. Talk about snouts in the trough! For that kind of dosh, I'd expect him to come round here and scoop up the barkers' nests personally!

The Brown Pimpernel

Toddling down to the corner shop earlier, I spied an elderly gentleman of military bearing who was berating one of our council's 'waste and recycling' operatives about the stinky rubbish that had been 'recycled' all over the pavements.

The operative was explaining that the seagulls were to blame for the fact that the street was awash with filth. 'They tear open the bin bags on bin day and it gets everywhere,' he said, as if there was nought could be done about it. At which point the elderly gentleman marched off muttering something about whether it was legal to shoot seagulls and/or council officers.

I continued on my errand, scanning the pavement rather more acutely than I've become accustomed to, and was shocked by the number of barkers' nests impeding my progress. I've been banging on about them for more than a year, but the problem has, if anything, got worse.

So I've decided direct action is called for. Taking my cue from that story yesterday about a fellow in Huddersfield who goes around at night spraying potholes with yellow paint, I'm straight off to B&Q to get myself a can of their finest. Only question is, what colour? Brown's clearly out. Pink maybe? I know - luminous green! That way they'll show up at night, too!

John Gone

How sad to wake up this morning to the news that the lovely John Inman has passed away.

I played a minor role in Aladdin alongside his Widow Twankey at the New Theatre Oxford many moons ago. Even though I was just starting out in the biz, he took me under his wing, and many a time bought me pink gins in the Gloucester Arms after the matinee. He loved the fact that he'd found an entire new fan base among the students, and they adored seeing him waft around town in his huge faux mink coat and bright yellow scarf, sporting big Polaroid sunglasses and a trilby.

Makes me feel very old, and much in need of a face lift.

Pier Group Pressure

I see the British Urban Regeneration Association's annual Seaside Network conference is currently taking place in Scarborough.

Usually such news would provoke not much more than a yawn from yours truly, but this quote from Matthew Lock, Lead Member for Regeneration and Planning, Hastings Borough Council, caught my eye:

Hastings is pleased to support BURA with this new endeavour. Coastal communitites are starting to turn it around; we've achieved a lot here and want to shout about the change we are achieving but we also want to know more about how our peers are creating renewal. Collaboration with our colleagues around the coast, private and voluntary sector too, can be a further catalyst for change; a consolidated voice shouts a lot louder!

'Peers' and 'renewal' eh? Would this be the same Hastings Borough Council that has been so successful in preserving its heritage that last week it announced it might have to demolish its splendid Victorian pier because it's fallen into utter disrepair since they handed it over to the private sector?

I think we should be told!

Trevor Little Help

And the name of the spluttering spokesman that Tesco put up today to apologise for polluting everyone's petrol? Trevor Datsun.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again, you just can't make this stuff up.

New Kids On The Block

by Gazunder Political Editor Gerry Mander

With only eight weeks left to polling day, the island is in the grip of local election fever! And with everything to play for, a host of eager, first time candidates are pounding the doorsteps looking for your vote.

But who are the Wantsum wannabes, and what do they stand for? We've been to meet Thanet's election hopefuls...


President Jacques Chirac, 74 (UKIP, Ramsgate). A surprising choice for UKIP, but Jacques doesn't see being French as a barrier to being elected on an anti-European ticket. 'I am retiring from ze day job in April, and I need ze new challenge,' he told the Gazunder. 'Ramsgate is very close to France, I can be in my constituency at ze drop of ze chapeau.' And Jacques is promising to bring a taste of the continent to Thanet if he's elected. 'I will 'ave a stall in ze French market selling ze pigs testicles. I 'ave ze stripey T shirt and everyzing!'


Bill Watney, 34 (LIBDEM, Broadstairs). Bill makes no bones about the love of his life - beer! 'It's chuffing lovely it is, magic, bloody magic. Bloody lovely,' he quipped. 'I love it, I really love it. Me? Can't get enough of it mate.' Asked about his position on drunken yobbery in Broadstairs High Street at the weekends, Bill responded: 'Wankers the lot of them. I'd chuffing show them where to go. Soft as shite the lot of them. Wankers.'


Brittany Barker, 19 (LAB, Margate). As if being a single mum to 33 little 'uns wasn't enough of a challenge, Brittany's now set her beady eyes on the council chamber. 'I'm fed up with people putting us single mums down,' she says. And she's got another bone to pick with the powers that be. 'Public lighting. There just aren't enough lamp posts in Margate.'


Barry Nutter, 62 (BNP, Cliftonville). Barry's claim to fame is that he once ate an entire suite of dining room furniture. 'I used to go in for these wacky eating competitions,' he told the Gazunder. 'I've also done a sofa, three armchairs and a bicycle.' He set up the Barry Nutter Party last year to highlight the derelict buildings in Cliftonville. 'There's an empty B&B in Dalby Square I've got my eye on. It should go down a treat with some HP Sauce!'


Wing Commander Professor Sir Rodney Joystick OBE, 87 (CON, Westgate). Considered one of the Tory 'new bloods', Sir Rodney was knighted for work on hush-hush government projects during WW2. Since then he's pursued a career in advertising. 'I've been persuaded to stand by fellow members of the North Thanet Conservative Association,' he says. 'Most of them are a lot older than me, and they can't stand at all without the help of a Zimmer frame.' If elected, Sir Rodney has pledged to outlaw young people.

(That's enough candidates - Ed.)

Homeless 'Could Be Housed At Westwood'

by Isle of Thanet Gazunder Social Affairs Editor Benny Fitt

Up to 5000 homeless people could be housed at Westwood Cross if a new plan formulated by Thanet Council goes ahead. Designer outlet T K Maxx is already gearing up for the move by providing a men's home on its first floor.

Now other retailers are poised to follow suit. A spokesman for Homebase, which recently abandoned its Westwood site for a site in Westwood, said they would consider re-furbishing their old Westwood site with furnishings from their new Westwood site if the council green lights the scheme.

'It's a tragedy that homeless people are being left to beg on derelict high streets like Margate,' said a spokeswoman for TDC. 'There's just not the footfall there any more. With this new scheme, they will find plenty of well-heeled shoppers right on their new doorstep.'

She added that the council hopes to get the scheme up and running in time for this year's Christmas rush.

Big Bang

From the sound of the thunderous banging going on outside, it would seem our Shirley Temple Yacht Club are holding their 150th celebrations tonight.

Of course, according to The Gazunder, they were meant to have held them last night, but you don't want to believe everything you read in the local papers. They seldom let the facts get in the way of a good story.

At least I might get a decent night's kip tonight, though. Hopefully it's scared the KFC out of those Gordoning seagulls.

Hairy Situation

In the name of everything that's holy! Gripped by tonsorial trepitude this morning, I thought I'd better dash over to Westworld Cross and get myself a new beard trimmer, so that I could smarten up the old soup strainer ahead of my lunch with Sir Alan today.

Naturally I always go for the celebrity brands, and Clever Trevor Sorbie's manicured my barnet a few times, so I shelled out for one of his. But as soon as I took it out of the box here at the old cliff top mansion, it became apparent that I wouldn't be the first person to use it.

Oh well, I haven't got time to go back and replace it, I'll just have to give it a rinse and pray to god that those actually are beard hairs, and not the result of one of the assistants at Boots giving herself a DIY Brazilian.

Loaded

Interpol called this morning to say they had apprehended Cyril, my accountant, attempting to fly out of Schiphol Airport with a suitcase full of fifties. Apparently it's my money! Woo-hoo!

And to confirm the old adage that winners are grinners, my millionaire chum Sir Alan phoned to say he's going to be in Kent's Ramsgate Peninsula for the weekend, and did I fancy doing lunch? Apparently he's here for the knees-up and fireworks tonight to celebrate the 150th anniversary of our Shirley Temple Yacht Club.

So things are looking up! No more shopping at Netto! I think I'll leave the sponsors on the blog, though, as I've got quite a queue of them lined up, and, as they say at one of those cheap supermarkets I've been visiting lately, every little helps!

West Cliff Story

So I thought I'd tootle along to the West Cliff to see what all the fuss was about (see previous post). Talk about timing! The day after the kind of exposure on primetime national TV that most PR people would cream their jocks over, the Grange is closed to visitors.

That got the old grey matter going. What else on Ramsgate's West Cliff could I do to while away the time? Ah yes, the Motor Museum.


Er, no. Not unless I'd brought my hard hat. This is what West Clilff Hall used to look like in its heyday:


Gallery IOTA, maybe? Nope, in a fine example of arts regeneration, that's had to make way for a kiddies playgroup.

Oh well, the pub it is then!

PS: Apologies to Vince Runacre for shamelessly purloining the idea behind his superb Old Ramsgate (then and now) blog. There's some terrific stuff there, so do pay him a visit.

Puge Cock Up

Well what a disappointing old pile that Time Team special on Pugin turned out to be. All the money shots were of the famous Victorian architect's cliff top mansion, and bits of the West Cliff.

I know the occasional glimpse of The Lookout would have got old Nethercourt's pulse racing, but where was the rest of Ramsgate? And by that I mean our trend-setting, go-ahead, rinky-dink East Cliff.

No wonder Baldric finished the show beside Pugin's tomb in that flint monstrosatery behind the Grange with these words: 'It's amazing that this great man lies forgotten here in this part of England that time has been unkind to.' Precisement!

By the way, I've emailed Tony with the details of a good, reasonably priced plastic surgeon in Poland. I don't know about you, but he's looking like something he might have dug up on his own show these days.

Old News

I bumped into that geriatric reprobate Angina on the way back from the Netto last night.

He's fuming because, he says, he predicted that flights to Nowhere, Virginia would be a dead loss when they were announced last year, but can't log into his blog to crow about it at the moment, having had several of his fingers amputated up at the QEQM the other week.

When I got home I searched his blog, and blow me down if he wasn't spot on the money!

Flight of Fancy

14 July 2006

I see yet more of our hard earned dosh is going to subsidise flights from Manston to Norfolk, Virginia, the home of the US Navy. Quite why we'd all want to go there, heaven only knows. I drove past it once. If you like big, grey battleships it might float your boat, I suppose.

And of course, all those US Navy ratings are just dying to get on a plane and come and see our newly opened Tudor house in Margate.

Next time I pay my council tax, I think I'll just get it out in cash, and go and stuff it straight down the nearest drain. It'll cut out the middle man.

Offers Flooding In!

'Ow's about that then, guys and gals! Ooh, pardon me, I came over all Jimmy Savile there for a moment!

Anyway, news is that since my last post I've been inundated with offers. Well, two actually. The first is from a company called Airpic. They shove a bloody great pole up and take an aerial shot of your house for you. No messy flying involved!

Thing is, they feel a certain doctor has a bit of a monopoly here in Thanet at the moment, so they're keen to break into the market.

The second offer is from a company which is about to launch the George Formby Grill. They're dubbing it The Lean, Mean, Ukelele Playing Grilling Machine. Apparently you bung your bangers in, and it'll give you a chorus of When I'm Cleaning Windows while it's doing them to a turn. Should sell millions!

Skint

Well that's that then. Cyril, my accountant, says I'm broke. Apparently splashing out 44 Gs on Del Boy's Robin Reliant yesterday was the final straw.

Still, it was kind of Cyril to call me from the airport on the first day of his trip to the Dutch Antilles. I know I've always said you can't get rid of me that easily, but as the old adage goes, there's no escaping taxes and death, and when I last looked the old tootsies were still wiggling so I must have succumbed to the former.

The only assets left are the TT, the Smart car, the Robin Reliant, the old cliff top mansion, and this blog. So from today I've got a new catchphrase:

WILL BLOG FOR FOOD

Councillor Biggles?

Heavens above! I see that our local flying doctor is standing for the council in the May elections, on behalf of the Blue Rinsers.

Although not one of Mr Cameron's drooling pot smokers myself, I can only wish the chap happy landings. After all, it will make a pleasant change to see someone get a firm grip on the joystick of power. At the moment all we have is a bunch of Dad's Army types aimlessly marching up and down with broom handles (car-crushing Cllr Green excepted).

I'd stand for election myself, but unfortunately, due to the anonymous nature of my persona, nobody would know who I was!

Tune In For Pugin

I see our Monte Carlo style megalopolis is to be featured yet again on Channel 4 this week.

My old TV chums Tony Robinson and that nice Kevin McCloud from Grand Designs are presenting a Time Team special entitled Pugin: The God of Gothic. Of course, I exclusively revealed this upcoming treat back in April 2006 (Time Team Comes To Ramsgate).

The famous Victorian architect's own cliff top mansion over on the rather less salubrious West Cliff will be featured. I'm not sure if the splendid fellow above who sits on our trendy and stylish East Cliff is the same chap, though, as the Pugins were Catholics and consequently there were 496 of them.

The new show comes hot on the heels of January's RamsgateFest on Relocation Relocation. All Channel 4 need to do now is get rid of That Bloody Awful Noel, and I for one will be supergluing their button down on my remote!

Time Team Special - Pugin: The God of Gothic, Thursday 1 March, 9pm

Quad Erat Demonstrandum

Pardon my pidgin Latin, but this was the sight that greeted me this afternoon as I went for my now traditional, ironic Sunday afternoon stroll along the beach in Margate. The whole place cordoned off and a scene of motorised mayhem!

Nonetheless, it appeared to have attracted a sizeable crowd of pit bull tugging petrolheads, so I suppose it must have had some benefit for the local economy.

There was even, it seems, some international interest. A Cathay Pacific 747 circled the beach at low altitude all afternoon, although the chances of it being crammed to the bulkheads with Formula 1 driving Hong Kong tycoons looking for a piece of the Margate action must, I would imagine, lie somewhere between zero and nil.

Barretts Homes

Fat Kev, my security manager, was only yesterday bemoaning the fact that he couldn't find an executive home in Margate. Now, it seems, his prayers are to be answered.

A regular in one of the more gruesome back street pubs told him that Barretts Soft Drinks in Tivoli Road have quietly shut up shop, with the factory site due to be handed over to the developers. It seems the fizz has gone out of the fizz biz.

No wonder FK seemed a bit bubblier today. I must ask my accountant how much I'm paying him.

The Tip Of Kent

One reader was so inspired by my recent post detailing a BBC weather forecaster's description of our part of the world that he's designed this natty shirt.

He's asked me if I would put the idea forward to our tourist board, but I can't see it enjoying a great deal of traction, as they say these days.

Although Kent Tourism might be interested. What with all the plans to concrete over the county, I hear they're considering renaming the place The Patio of England, so this could be the icing on the cake!

Greenhouse Omissions

CONSULTING YOUR INTELLIGENCE - A CORRECTION

Oops! I've had an email from occasional contributor Ron Councillor, correcting my previous post. Mr Councillor (not his real name) is one of the friendlier members of our local Dad's Army, albeit of the blue rinse variety. Think of him as a kind of Sgt. Wilson.

He writes:

I find your insinuation that the council does not consult with local people, or that we consult with them until they agree with us, quite insulting. Only this week we agreed to shelve plans for a development in King George VI park following vociferous objections. We have also blah Pleasurama blah pools blah Westwood blah blah blah etc.

The council have indeed called off plans to protect our world famous, early 19th century Italianate greenhouse from vandals by building 127 Wimpey homes around it, and I am happy to put the record straight.

Consulting Your Intelligence

Blimey! I was just changing Bertie's litter tray, and this fell out of the SadScene I was lining it with:


The local council's 'magazine', Thanet Pravda.

And inside that was this:


A survey about the provision of swimming pools in the area.

Not that I'm particularly interested, as I've got an Olympic size facility in the west wing, here at the old cliff top mansion. But a peremptory perusal elicited the information that our municipal baths in Margate and Ramsgate are indeed in a sorry state. Apparently they either need to be refurbished, or replaced with a single new pool built on a greenfield site.

Let's look at the options The Uranians are giving us:


Lumme! Not too difficult to tell from that which scenario the council prefers!

See My Ramsgate Movie Film

Meandering around the grubby back streets of the internet the other day, I chanced upon a rather anonymous looking blog in Russian which contained this entry:

Рамсгейт

(Ramsgate) — город в английском графстве Кент, на восточном берегу полуострова Танэт, в 100 км от Лондона. Отличные морские купанья. Безопасная гавань с двумя пристанями; маяк. Корабельные верфи, рыбная ловля, значительная торговля яйцами, плодами и др. Жителей (1891) 21733. В 3-х км морские купанья Бродстерз (некогда любимое местопребывание Диккенса).

Of course the word 'Ramsgate' caught my eye, so I popped the Cyrillic into the old AltaVista Babel Fish, and this was the translation:

(Ramsgate) - city in the English county Kent, on the eastern shore Of tanet peninsula, in 100 km from London. Outstanding sea bathings. Safe harbor with two piers; lighthouse. The dockyards, fishing, significant trade in eggs, by fruits and other inhabitants (1891) 21733. In 3rd km the sea bathings Of brodsterz (there is no time dear abode of Dickens).

Hurrah! The mystery was solved! Those creative types at the tourist board have commissioned Borat to make a publicity film for us, and I'd stumbled across the script!

The Edge Of Teh Known World

Yikes! My campaign to find a more euphonious description of our part of the world has suffered a bit of a setback.

While Jay Wynne was presenting the BBC weather forecast last night, he wafted his hand towards Thanet, er Kent's Ramsgate Peninsula, and declared: 'You may see some sunshine down there in the tip of Kent'.

P-lease! There may be a lot of rubbish on the streets around here, but The Tip of Kent is going a bit far if you ask me.

The Number Of The Beast

I see from the new tickerometer on my sidebar that 666 days have now passed since 'temporary' fencing was erected along our crumbling East Cliff.

Anyone of a nervous disposition would be well advised to keep away from the edge for the next 24 hours, in my humble opinion.

Foam And Away

The weather was so tickety-boo this afternoon that I thought I'd whip out my old throbber and take a wobble over to Margate for a gander at the Turnip Centre exhibition at the Winter Gardens.

By now those architect Johnnies must have come up with some pretty spectacular ideas for our 17m squid, I opined as I piloted my gleaming machine effortlessly towards the Arsonists' Playground.

At first, though, it was difficult to spot the, er, impressive model of our new flagship gallery within the cavernous expanse of the venue...


But then - there she blows!


Mind you, they haven't just been filing their nails all this time. Here's another...


Oh, and another...


And this one's the most spectacular of all...



A magnificent addition to the Margate seafront, I'm sure you'll agree. Now all it needs is some flowers to stick in it.

To be fair, the chap who was showing people around did say that final plans wouldn't be published until June. Of course, it would have been nice to have chatted it through with the design team, but I was told they were all out to lunch.

Belgian Bar Bust

According to the geologists over on Thanet Rocks, that is.

Chimps Key To Margate Regeneration Says Architect

Isle of Thanet Gazunder Exclusive

A stunning £17m monkey house will be the centrepiece of a new arts centre in Margate, according to the mastermind behind the scheme.

Speaking yesterday to a select group of councillors and members of the public who had telephoned for a ticket in 2005, he was upbeat about his design for the new onshore Anthea Turner Centre.

'We have to attract the public to this building, which is key to the regeneration of Margate as a whole. That is why we have placed performing chimpanzees and other cuddly mammals such as meerkats at the heart of the project,' he said.

Dressed casually in a green wig and red nose, he highlighted features of the new centre, which will include:

● Candy floss factory
● Sealion pool
● Jugglers (courtesy local constabulary)

And he promised that the building would delight the kids. 'At 3 o'clock every afternoon all four wings of the centre will drop to the ground with a bang and the wheels will come off.'

The centre is expected to cost £389m.

Puff The Magic Dragon

Tottering back from my favourite watering hole late the other night, I noticed a kerfuffle around one of those tawdry buildings in the back streets.

Soon after, several fire engines arrived and started pumping copious amounts of water into an upstairs window, from which smoke was billowing. One of the bystanders told me that the flat belonged to a commodities dealer called Trevor (which just goes to prove how City types are flocking to invest in Ramsgate).

It did strike me as a bit odd, though, that Trevor's bench and chairs were being carted across the road into the pub opposite. Thinking it was an act of kindness by the publican, I went over to congratulate her on her altruism.

'They're ours,' came the curt response. 'Trevor nicked them when we put them out last summer.'

I must say, standards in the Square Mile certainly do seem to be slipping.

Bored Witless

Blogland is about as interesting as a day out in Margate at the moment. And bugger all else is happening. Even Elton's stopped ringing.

Not only that, but there's only the one booking in the diary - an infomercial for this:


The Joy Mangano Handy Hook Mirror. Bev, my agent, said they wanted a supreme narcissist for the gig, and I was the perfect choice. Charming.

If this keeps up, I'll have to resort to the old corporate presenter's trick of copying huge swathes from other people's blogs and passing the stuff off as my own!

Ramsgate First, Margate Second

I see the Arsonists are now clamouring for their own teeny-tiny council, following the success of the Ramsgate First campaign for a miniscule municipality over here in the Ile's premier megalopolis.

If Margate are successful too, we'll all have some significant improvements to look forward to, judging by the impressive achievements of Boredstares Town Council, which is already up and running. Here's what the Dickensians have been up to according to their latest annual report:

● Installed fairy lights
● Narrowed their already narrow streets
● Moved their office from upstairs in Pierremont Hall to, er, downstairs in Pierremont Hall.

And all that for only £237,038!

And there are yet more exciting projects in the pipeline - just take a look at their upcoming agenda!

Korea Path

My campaign to re-style Thanet as Kent's Ramsgate Peninsula is already coming to fruitation, to purloin a phrase first coined by Kevin Keegan.

I've been getting expressions of interest from another peninsula, Korea, where Dr Horace Jeffery Hodges, who teaches at Korea University's Department of English Language and Literature, has followed up my recent post about peninsula envy.

I'm sure that as soon as I've mentioned that Karl Marx was a frequent visitor to Ramsgate, where he believed the air was good for his boils, Dr Horace will be writing the brochures!

May The Fourth Be With You

Crikey! It seems local election fever has Kent's Ramsgate Peninsula in its grips. But here's one way to even the odds. Regular reader Simon writes:

Dear Eastie,

I have been sent a letter by the council inviting me to help scrutinise the local elections which will take place on 3 May 2007. The count itself will take place the following day.

However, in order to qualify for this civic duty, I have been asked to go on a course which I must pay for myself. There is a sliding scale of payments for the training. So for just a few quid I can learn how to count, but for £200+ I can get to be a presiding officer.

Would you, by any chance, be prepared to sponsor me to go on this course?

Keep up the good work!

Simes

Well Simon, I'm a bit strapped for cash at the moment, what with just coming off a big tour, but I'm sure there'll be plenty of people willing to cough up the sponds. Have you thought about approaching your local councillor?

Have These Back Sides Blown Off?

Dear oh dear.


Tut tut. I heard there had been a Great Wind in these parts while I was away, but these shelters have been braving Great Winds since Victorian times. Were the missing parts blown away? I think I should be told.


Meanwhile the 'temporary' fencing has been creeping like ivy. It's now surrounding our brand new, super-duper, out-of-this-world bandstand.

Shocking News

Good Lord! The whole place has gone to pot since I've been on my southern sojourn! Here are the headlines:

● Dreamland to stay empty this year, apart from some half-arsed attempt to get the Scenic Railway running. As the only scenes that will greet passengers while their fillings rattle out will be an empty car park, I would argue that a case might be made to the Advertising Standards Authority.
● New improved Ike and Tina Turner Centre costs rise from £12m to £17m (not including the £8m spent on the old unimproved Ike and Tina Turner Centre).
● Tory councillor resigns after sending racist emails. No surprise there then.
● Temporary fencing along East Cliff now about as temporary as The Great Pyramid of Giza.
● Thanet Air Show ditches in the sea after organisers go tits up.

Which brings me to the most shocking news of all. Dr Biggles of Thanet Life has, in a move equivalent to a 50 year old man sporting a chunky gold chain from H Samuel, put his profile on MySpace. I ask you! For 'MySpace' read 'OldSpice'.

Still, his profile does reveal that he was 'bought-up in Westgate'. By the North Thanet Conservative Association, no doubt.

Cheering Crowds Greet Local Millionaire's Return

by Isle of Thanet Gazunder staff

Crowds of jeering (surely 'cheering' - Ed.) onlookers thronged London's Heathrow Airport as Ramsgate celebrity and millionaire Richard Eastcliff stepped off his flight from San Francisco today.

Looking fit and relaxed after a barnstorming tour of Australia, New Zealand and the US, Mr Eastcliff delighted crowds with his well-known catchphrase 'You can't get rid of me that easily!' as well as dispensing handfuls of Frangos to his waiting admirer.

Asked by the Gazunder whether he was dismayed by new crises encircling Dreamland, the Turner Contemporary, and Ramsgate's crumbling East Cliff, Sir Richard responded: 'Crises? What Crises?' He was later whisked away in a chauffeur driven limo.

Lord Eastcliff is 29.

Between The Rock And A Hard Place

Gazing wistfully at Alcatraz from my luxury hotel suite here in San Francisco, I can't help feeling homesick.

The Rock was the only place that enjoyed hot showers in the US prison system, installed so that inmates wouldn't become acclimatised to cold water. And what magnificent views! It reminds me somewhat of the old cliff top mansion. Time to return to Blighty, methinks.

The QM2 was in town on Sunday. The SFPD blocked off the centre of the Golden Gate Bridge, thus thwarting anyone who might have been planning a spectacular suicide by diving into the funnel. But she's gone now, so I'll just have to take up Sir Richard Branston's offer of a free Upper Class ticket.

I must say, I'm looking forward to seeing all the changes that will surely have taken place on Kent's Ramsgate Peninsula in my absence, viz:

● Dreamland transformed into Alton Towers style theme park
● Temporary Harris fencing removed from repaired East Cliff
● Anthea Turner Centre completed and bestowed RIBA award

Ah, there's no place like home!

BBC In Gillingham Map Mix-up

Isle of Thanet Gazunder Exclusive

The BBC has been forced to re-draw a map of England, after it confused Medway metropolis Gillingham with the sleepy Dorset town of the same name!

The embarrassing gaff was spotted by well-known Ramsgate millionaire and pedant, Mr Richard Eastcliff, who emailed the BBC from his California beach house.

The map, which was meant to show which were the noisiest and quietest towns in England, placed Gillingham as the fifth noisiest town, after Newcastle, Birmingham, London, Darlington and Doncaster (fourth equal). Although the mistake has now been corrected, the BBC has yet to apologise to Medway residents for moving them hundreds of miles to the west.


The BBC map with Gillingham in Dorset.


The BBC map with Gillingham now in Kent.

Full BBC story

Hurray, Hurray, It's A Happy Monterey!

The aquarium is the major attraction here in Monterey, CA. It attracts visitors, and school trips, from all over the USA and beyond.

Of course, it would be great to have a similar facility on Kent's Ramsgate Peninsula. Having discussed the ins and outs with the higher echelons of the aquarium (the nice fellow in charge of the petting pool), it would appear that all you need is a local boy made good (in this case David Packard of Hewlett Packard fame), who has a spare $53m to bestow on something that his daughter happens to be very keen on (marine conservation).

Does anyone know if Mr Godden's got a daughter? And might she be keen on dolphins???


Not so long ago the only way they used to conserve marine life here was by canning it. Whaling and seal clubbing were also popular pastimes, as the street name suggests.


But now Prescotts can bask safely on the rocks in the harbour.


Well, there's a short tour of Monterey for you. I'm off to get a delicious confection from the fudge factory, which is conveniently located next to the, er, fudge factory.

Peninsula Envy

Here on California’s Monterey Peninsula, I find myself once again making unfortunate comparisons with our own little piece of Kentish coastline.

Monterey's Cannery Row was the setting for Pulitzer and Nobel Prize winning author John Steinbeck’s 1945 novel of the same name, although he’s probably better known for his documentation of a lifelong medical complaint, The Arsegrapes Of Wrath.

Since I was last here in the early 90s, regeneration has transformed the place. There’s now a world class aquarium, which includes a petting pool for those who fancy a spot of fish fondling, along with hundreds of charming boutiques and restaurants. And, er, a couple of British pubs. For some reason, the locals seem to think British pubs are a bit chi-chi. Clearly they’ve never been in one of Frank’s.

Just down the road is the artists’ colony of Carmel, where the streets have no names, the houses no numbers, and Clint Eastwood was once mayor. The most famous artist in residence at the moment appears to be, um, Tony Curtis.

Anyway, the point is that with connections to famous artists and novelists, the place is thriving, just as Thanet should be. To my way of thinking there can only be one reason why we're lagging behind in the race to have the biggest peninsula. ‘Thanet’. Hasn’t got much of a ring to it, has it? I mean, really.

So from now on I’ll be running a campaign to re-brand the place ‘Kent’s Ramsgate Peninsula’. Much better.

Now all we have to do is wait for the tourists to flock!

Beverley Hills Flop

Looks like I've gone down like a cup of cold sick here in LA, but so what? All the houses in Beverley Hills resemble uberkhazis anyway, not unlike our very own Granville Theatre-ma. And Sunset Strip makes Westworld Cross look stylish!

So I've pointed the old Chevvy Malibu towards, er, Malibu. I've got a chum who lives in San Fran, so a pootle up the old Pacific Coast Highway is in order.

I must say, whenever I travel to the States, I'm always reminded of various third world countries I've visited. Beautiful scenery, but poorly maintained, badly lit roads. And don't bother looking for a sign to your next destination as you rattle along in your brand new car which sounds as if the hire company has gone for the bag of dessicated ferrets' knackers in the dashboard option, and goes round corners with about as much precision as an oil tanker.

And the money! It's all the same. Same size, same colour, just different beards and numbers! And their president's a nincompoop, but he's also in charge of their army!

Third world I tell you, third world.

Three Simple Steps To Having The Most Successful Blog In The World Ever

1. Make sure you have a profile photo which shows off your bald spot and latest H Samuel gold chain to best effect.

Three Simple Steps To Having The Most Successful Blog In The World Ever

2. Make sure you link to everyone. Use plenty of tags and don't forget RSS. And don't bother writing anything original, just copy straight from your new friends, although the occasional item about filthy Arabs will go down a treat, of course.

Always publish little and often, that way you'll always be at the top of any aggregation sites, such as the Thanet Bloglist Recent Feeds area.

Three Simple Steps To Having The Most Successful Blog In The World Ever

3. Voila! Your blog should now look like this! Congratulations!

Blown It

Twelve hours later and, thanks to the International Date Line, I'm back where I started. Monday the 29th of January. Just in time for lunch with Marti in Santa Monica.

Marti: So, tell me Dickie, whereabouts in England are you living?
Me: In a beautiful English coastal town called Ramsgate, about 90 minutes from London. I tell you, Marti old chap...
Marti: Yeah, Margate, I heard of that. Hasn't Cher got a place there?
Me: Yes, yes, I think she has been spotted there, but I tell you, Ramsgate is...
Marti: And I worked with a guy called Ray Winstone recently, did you see The Departed? He just wouldn't stop going on about Margate, and something you guys eat called jellied eels?
Me: Yes, er, yes, Ray is a bit of a fan, but getting back to Ramsgate...
Marti: You know, Ray's one hell of an actor. The first time we met for lunch, he blew me right away.
Me: Well, um, Marti, er, I think I'd have to get to know you a bit better first, or at least go and brush my teeth.

Another one bites the dust, methinks.

Dickie Goes To Hollywood

Bev, my agent, has managed to wangle me a meeting with Marti, who's remaking that marvellous 60s film How To Murder Your Wife. I'm up for the role played by the late, great, lovely Terry-Thomas, of course. So I'm off to California for lunch with the maestro.

Can't say I'm sad to leave Rotorua, really. There's a permanent stink here that's going to outlast religion!

Pedigree Plumb

Skilled workers are apparently just as hard to come by here in NZ as they are in the UK.

Even Polish plumbers don’t want to travel 20,000 kilometres to work, so the resourceful Kiwis have started training hounds for the job. Here we see GB ‘Good Boy’ Teat arriving for his first assignment of the afternoon, a faulty air conditioning unit in downtown Rotoroa.

I’m told these plumbing pooches have been such a success, discussions are now underway about the possibility of introducing dogtors in NZ’s hospitals.

Oh dear, I think this foul air is getting to me.