The Daily Telegraph - Saturday - Travel
I’ve got the world in my hands (in Margate)
Recovering from shoulder surgery, Anna Hart enjoyed a cosmopolitan Christmas with friends
On Dec 19, I was coming around from shoulder surgery, around the same time as the Prime Minister addressed the nation. As I drifted in and out of consciousness, I heard the nurses muttering about Tier 4, the surprise new tier, and what it meant for their Christmas travel plans. I could also hear, on the TV blaring from the ward next door, that NHS Kent was suspending all non-urgent procedures with immediate effect, which would lead to lengthy delays on operations like mine. As I retched miserably into a small cardboard basin, lopsided and insentient, listening to the news, I have never before felt so simultaneously wretched and blessed, gross and grateful, depleted and elated.
I’m truly sorry for all of you who had your festive plans eviscerated, but as for me, well, I emerged as one of Britain’s only real winners. Aside from squeezing one of the final operations out of the NHS in the nick of time (and joking aside, I’ve been waiting two years for this procedure, which will make a huge difference to my quality of life), being in a sling for six weeks is less boring than I imagined it would be – given that there is nothing whatsoever to do anyway. It also meant many of my closest friends were suddenly grounded in Margate, their travel plans cancelled as virtually every nation made it clear that visitors from Britain were not welcome. My support bauble, Aleksandar, was no longer spending Christmas with his mum in Bulgaria. Roxy wouldn’t make it to her New Year yoga retreat in Ibiza. Even friends who had hoped to visit family in Essex or London found themselves stuck in Margate. I felt sorry for all my friends, who, along with most of the nation, had their festive plans trashed. But this did mean I suddenly had an army of elves at my service, available to entertain me, feed me and do me annoying favours like taking my bins out. Ho ho ho!
And one of the unexpected delights of a Christmas and New Year stuck at home is how international we made it. On Christmas Eve, Aleksandar prepared a traditional Balkan feast, the main celebratory meal, made up of meat and dairy-free dishes. In Bulgaria Christmas Eve marks the end of the “post”, a Christmas fast similar to Lent. I had no idea that religious Bulgarians have been closet vegan hipsters for centuries, but picking up these sorts of curious facts and acquiring a new custom is precisely what I love most about travel. And the Christmas and New Year holiday in Margate has proven to be an unexpected showcase of international customs, from the surprising to the
charming to the downright weird. On Christmas Day, friends stopped by my ground-floor window to see how I was doing. I’d perfected a one-armed method of making boozy Irish coffees, and served them through the window. Aleks passed out parcels of frankincense and charcoal for people to burn in their homes, another charming Balkan custom. (The Irish custom = whiskey.)
I’ve always felt that customs are the best travel souvenirs; traditions and new habits are the things I collect, with the eye of a custom connoisseur, to impose on unsuspecting friends and family back home. I relish the pretension of serving potent Turkish coffee and dates to friends in Margate; I don’t care if I resemble a 1970s sitcom character who went to Istanbul or Marrakech once and won’t shut up about it. Frankly, right now, my Turkish coffee is the closest anyone I know is getting to actual Istanbul, and they should be grateful to me for this mini-break. I know I’m grateful for anything that transports me anywhere but Margate.
And over Christmas and New Year, I’ve been exposed to all sorts of new ways to celebrate. I’ve enjoyed a New England-style clambake on the beach and watched Swedish friends leap in the sea and then right into the portable sauna they have built into a horsebox towed behind their Audi. I’ve been brought care packages of debauched American dishes such as candied yams and pumpkin pie. I have said the word “cheers” in French, Gaelic, Bulgarian, Polish and German. I cannot wait to start travelling again, and get back to picking up customs, and sayings, and habits, and recipes. But for a Christmas stuck in my flat as a grounded travel writer, not able even to make it back to my parents’ home in Belfast, it has been a wonderfully international affair.