…about Whitstable

Benji Lanyado, New York Times, February 2009.

Soon after arriving on a recent visit, I trundled down High Street, a thin thoroughfare lined with shops that still bear the names of their founders. Among staggered rows of houses made of Victorian brick and white clapboard, I could see meat being hammered at Theobald Butchers, bread being shovelled out of the oven at Hubbard’s Bakery.
But they would have to wait. This is a town with a special relationship with seafood — in particular, oysters. They’ve been dredged, dissected and slurped there for centuries.

Charles Dickens, All The Year Round, May 1850.

Its one idea is oysters. It is a town that may be called small, that may be considered well-to-do, that is thoroughly independent, and that dabbles a little in coals, because it has got a small muddy harbour and a single line of railway through the woods to Canterbury, but its best thoughts are devoted to oysters.

Adam West, Daily Telegraph, August 2008.

It is Padstow with attitude, with more in common with the fashionable West Country resort than it might care to admit.

Vipasai Niyamabha, The Nation daily, Bangkok, August 2008.

Here’s the thing, though: oysters. Oysters love the waters in this Kent locale so much that they’ve made it famous.
Whether Julius Caesar himself ever actually came to see how his army was getting along in Britain is a matter of debate. But the locals say he was not only in Whitstable - he took home a supply of Whitstable oysters.

Hazel Davis, Financial Times, February 2009.

Similar to Brighton but “wellbehaved”, as one local puts it, it has long been famed for its oysters. A Norman fishing port, since then it has celebrated its renowned fare at the annual July Whitstable Oyster Festival. In recent years the piscatorial attraction has been bolstered by a more artistic one and every summer art lovers flock to the myriad galleries and artisan outlets. The seafood is still a draw, though, with local restaurants and pubs attracting national attention.