Whitstable Diary

I was disappointed that the coffee at the reception was instant but we were late arriving. We had journeyed from our hotel in a frantic frightened zigzag. Darting down dark alleys and cut throughs avoiding thin black clad figures.



We were able to relax at last seated next to an ex naval diver at Ruth Beale, Karen Mirza's: "The voyage of Nonsuch" demi poetic film study of spatial archives. Afterwards while my companion corralled the diver I looked at the snapshots of Mr Cushing posing in the scenic spots of Whitstable and vowed to visit them before the sun sets tonight.