When I was a kid I use to go to Cliftonville and Margate. My Fav uncle (use to speed in his ford capri, handbrake turns, take me to the local pub for a pint, in my case lemonade and packet of crisps and say we had been out shopping and got delayed by the trafic) lived there. He use to take us water skiing (never got the hang of it) and to watch power boat racing. It was a thriving seaside area.
It is now known as a social hell hole, unemployment, crime, drug use, sub standard housing (you name it); basically a town of no hope that has been left behind. Because of childhood memories I have a soft sport for the area.
I saw this story and smiled.
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-kent-24341447
Childhood memories
Do no harm. Margerine is the biggest food crime
Thanks for bringing a story with a smile from a blighted area. ...great picture, clever idea.
There was a novel by Thomas Wolfe titled "You Can Never Go Home Again," in which the protagonist bemoans "the unfair passing of time which prevents [him] ever being able to return 'home again'." It was written in North Carolina, but it was universal.
We all become that way, I suspect, as we age and become older than dirt or Chuckwagon or [your name here]. Think of the various places you have called home over the years, and if you have ever revisited them, think about how they changed. (You, of course, have not. Right?) Personally, I'm much happier way out here in the future with my memory still (somewhat) intact. I sincerely hope that you can say the same.
Unfortunately, a fiftieth high school reunion is rearing its head, and time has not been so kind to many of those who shared that past with me, especially those who won't be able to attend because of adverse conditions like being dead or deceased or having 'passed on' or other similar predicaments. Rich or poor, those of us who CAN attend will have feelings similar to those that Markjass described.
Our own little blighted pieces of real estate and time continue to slide into the past, if not the sea, leaving us to scratch our heads and wonder what the heck happened and why. Truly, you can never go home again.
Besides, I don't wanna.
Duk

There was a novel by Thomas Wolfe titled "You Can Never Go Home Again," in which the protagonist bemoans "the unfair passing of time which prevents [him] ever being able to return 'home again'." It was written in North Carolina, but it was universal.
We all become that way, I suspect, as we age and become older than dirt or Chuckwagon or [your name here]. Think of the various places you have called home over the years, and if you have ever revisited them, think about how they changed. (You, of course, have not. Right?) Personally, I'm much happier way out here in the future with my memory still (somewhat) intact. I sincerely hope that you can say the same.
Unfortunately, a fiftieth high school reunion is rearing its head, and time has not been so kind to many of those who shared that past with me, especially those who won't be able to attend because of adverse conditions like being dead or deceased or having 'passed on' or other similar predicaments. Rich or poor, those of us who CAN attend will have feelings similar to those that Markjass described.
Our own little blighted pieces of real estate and time continue to slide into the past, if not the sea, leaving us to scratch our heads and wonder what the heck happened and why. Truly, you can never go home again.
Besides, I don't wanna.
Duk

Experience - the ability to instantly recognize a mistake when you make it again.
Funny you should mention this. I have lived in some places in the distant past and returned in recent years and it is as though time as passed them by and there are other places that time and storms have completely rearranged. I was stationed for a year on the Mississippi Gulf coast about 1960. A few years later hurricane Camille arrived with a 20 foot storm surge and erased the landscape. We visited in the early 70's and only the VA hospital was there to indicate where I used to live. Even the trees had been swept away.
Ross- tightwad home cook