As a child I can remember trying to swim out to a wrecked fishing boat off the beach at Camber Sands on the Sussex/Kent border. I stared at the horizon until the whole universe felt blue. It felt like the most exotic place on Earth. The south-east coast clearly made an impression, as I later settled in Kent and I am raising my own family here.
I work as a guard and bouncer, earning £11.76 an hour, which doesn’t buy a lot of excursions, even with my girlfriend’s wage chucked in (she works in a school for vulnerable children).
But since the cost of living crisis kicked in we have managed to find cheap local attractions galore. Here are some of our favourites.
Herne Bay
A lot of our days out are by bus (Stagecoach is offering a £2 price-capped adult single fare until 31 October, and an ongoing kid-for-a-quid deal). Herne Bay seafront is a regular destination. I love chasing my daughter around the steps of the Victorian clock tower, or watching the bikers rev up in the Neptune car park. Because my daughter’s under 16 she gets free entry to the Seaside Museum on William Street, where we can read about the last-known “pursuit by HM Customs under sail” (old-school smuggling), which reportedly took place on 4 September 2004 and involved a local boatman.
If it’s sunny, we’ll go crabbing off the pier with a bucket and kite string. If it’s windy, we’ll spend our change on air hockey in the arcade. On the beach, I’ll open the compass app on my phone and gaze due east, past the free-to-access Reculver Towers, part of a ruined medieval church, near the remains of a Roman fortress, and out to Europe.
Whitstable
My daughter’s book of monsters has led us on a quest to Whitstable in search of Crabzilla, a 15-metre-wide crustacean whose photograph was posted on the Weird Whitstable blog in 2014 and soon became an international headline.
We’ve never seen it, but we love walking past the stalls on Harbour Market, or sitting in the Bubble Cafe looking out at the distant sea. I keep my head down if anyone grumbles about “the DFLs” (Down-from-Londons – I was born in Leytonstone). If my daughter needs a runaround, we’ll head to the free play area outside Whitstable Castle. If climbing a pirate ship doesn’t exhaust her, doing some sparring on the biscuit-coloured sand when the tide’s out never fails. Her karate is a good match for my street fighting.
Romney Marsh
We find the same wide horizons – but fewer boutiques – if we take a bus and train to Romney Marsh. The 100-square mile area spreads into East Sussex and was once beneath the sea. Today it consists of fields dotted with grazing sheep, waterways and villages.
At its south-east tip is Dungeness, where climbing the Old Lighthouse costs £5 adult, £3 child. We like to watch the local anglers – none of whom budge year round come rain, shine, explosions at the nearby Lydd military ranges, or weird noises from inside the nuclear power station on the beach.
Quex Park
Quex Park is a 100-hectare (250-acre) country estate and activity centre on the way to Margate and free to enter. There is crazy golf or paintballing for a fee, but we’re quite happy chasing each other over logs, or spying on the peacocks outside the Powell-Cotton Museum. To get even closer to wildlife, walking an Anglo-Nubian goat costs £22.50 for half an hour.
Kearsney Abbey
Another nice picnic spot is Kearsney Abbey, a couple of miles inland from Dover. The four-hectare site has orchards, an awesome wooden jungle gym, several ponds – one guarded by swans, another by toy-boat users – and a flint-lined stream for kids to dangle their toes in. On our visit I had my hands full chasing after the gull who’d run off with half my cheese sandwich.
Teynham
There’s a different kind of wildlife on offer in Teynham, near Sittingbourne where my kids insist on visiting the “smelly zoo” (AKA Lost World Reptiles). Inside, they can admire the corn snakes or the Mexican red-knee tarantulas that huddle behind glass that never quite feels thick enough. On a clear day we’ll walk along part of the Saxon Shore Way, a 163-mile Roman footpath, following pylons, while the children look for purple teasel flowers.
Ramsgate Tunnels
One recent adventure that triggered some major endorphins was an afternoon out in my mate’s van that mimicked my dad’s old route to the coast – but then detoured and deposited us at the Ramsgate Tunnels. There, my family, ex-classmates and fellow guards ambushed me as a belated 40th birthday present.
They’d brought the cake; my girlfriend had paid for the fish and chips and tickets (normally £22 for two adults and two kids). She’d also compiled an Underworld playlist which the staff kindly hooked up to their PA system.
Walking through the black caves with those closest to me and learning how the passageways had sheltered bombing victims during the second world war, I was reminded that, despite what my empty passport or my bank app says, I’m minted.
Geocaching
Provided you’ve got spare data, joining the free geocaching.com online treasure hunt is a great way to stay active outdoors while giving kids their browsing fix, and there are lots to find across Kent. You follow online clues and directions to physical “caches” hidden behind benches, or stuck to street signs like a fridge magnet. Then you add your initials to the list of previous finders on the paper label rolled inside. If that sounds too much like orienteering, What3words is a simpler alternative (and a great way to trick youngsters into spelling practice).
Woodsman Camping, near Pluckley
I’m not really into camping but Woodsman Camping near Pluckley – reportedly the most haunted village in Britain – might be the place to convert me. Two people can “wild camp” (with their own tent, bivvy bag or tarp) in the woods for £20, a bell tent complete with double mattress and fairy lights is £150. Any screams heard at night probably aren’t poltergeists. They’re foxes.
Baggins Book Bazaar, Rochester
Libraries are thin on the ground these days, but bookshops aren’t, and one of our favourites is Rochester’s Baggins Book Bazaar, said to be England’s largest second-hand bookseller. It’s on the high street near the castle, packed with hardbacks and smells of what the owners call “a volatile chemical compound created by the decay of paper, glue and ink”. It’s the perfect place to go to recreate the opening to Ghostbusters (1984), without the cost of a ticket to the New York Public Library on Fifth Avenue.
