Whitstable is one of those places that every Londoner seems to have been to except me. Which is slightly ridiculous considering I spent part of my teenage years living in Folkestone, so it’s not as though Kent was some mysterious, unexplored corner of the country. Yet somehow, despite hearing numerous people talk about the oysters, the convenience, the weekends away, and the Whitstable this and Whitstable that, it took me five years of living in London before I actually made it there.
It always makes me chuckle that London, a city that people constantly talk about “escaping”, spends an awful lot of time living rent-free in people’s heads. Every other week, I hear someone talking about getting out of the city to escape the chaos, like they’re one tube delay away from raising goats—even though another tube will be along in 2-5 minutes. Personally, I don’t really get it. I love London. I love the energy, the unpredictability, and the fact that there is always something happening (whether you want it to be or not). But that said, I will never say no to the seaside. For as strong as my love of big cities is, my love of being on the water runs right alongside it. Maybe it’s because my dad was a fisherman, and so much of our time together was spent on the water. Maybe it’s because the British seaside has a salt-faded, occasionally eccentric character all of its own. Whatever the reason, I’ve always been drawn to it, so when a friend put forward the idea of a Whitstable day trip, naturally, I was in. The fact that I’d been out celebrating a birthday the night before and had somehow committed myself to an 8:30 am train the following morning felt like a problem for future me…
The version of me that got on the train for our Whitstable day trip the following morning was, thankfully, feeling far more enthusiastic about the situation than the version that had skipped home a few hours earlier. Armed with a peppy attitude, sunglasses doing some very heavy lifting, and my picnic blanket, we made our way to St Pancras. But before we get to that part, a shoutout to the humble picnic blanket, because, alongside a shoehorn, it remains one of the best purchases I’ve ever made. Few things improve a day out quite like being able to sit wherever you please without worrying about damp grass, questionable sand, or, as it turned out, several hours spent on a pebble beach.
ANYHOO.
Getting from London to Whitstable is incredibly straightforward. You jump on a direct train from either Victoria or St Pancras, and you’ll be there in around an hour and a half. Unfortunately for us, rail replacement made the trip that day slightly longer, with our route needing a train from Victoria to Faversham before boarding a replacement bus for the final stretch into Whitstable. Honestly, I didn’t mind it. There was something oddly nostalgic about the whole thing. Like being on a school trip. But like, the adult version, where half the class is nursing a hangover and discussing where they’re going for lunch.
After being dropped off at Whitstable station, we made our way towards the coast in search of supplies. We were on a Whitstable day trip mainly for lunch, but planned to make a full day of it, and, after the aforementioned birthday celebrations the night before, there was absolutely no chance I was making it until the afternoon without something to eat.
Whitstable itself feels exactly how you’d hope an English seaside town would. Independent shops, charity shops and businesses that look like they’ve been there for decades sit happily alongside the familiar high street chains, somehow managing to coexist without stripping the place of its character. There are colourful beach huts, bay-windowed houses, little side streets worth wandering down and enough places to eat and drink that you could happily spend an entire weekend working your way around them.
What I liked most, though, was that Whitstable doesn’t feel like it’s trying too hard. It’s not one of those places that’s been polished within an inch of its life for Instagram. People come here to spend time by the sea. To eat well. To wander about. To sit and talk.
And that’s exactly what we planned to do.
First, though, we needed food.
Our first stop was Wheelers Oyster Bar, where we picked up a selection of seafood for a beach picnic. If you go, I’d definitely recommend the hand-picked curried crab with coriander. It’s gorgeous. You can buy most of their seafood by weight in little pots, which makes it ideal picnic food, and they also sell freshly baked rolls to go with it. As the daughter of a fisherman, I also took a small amount of pride in being able to correctly identify several unlabelled seafood options. Completely unnecessary, but massively satisfying to know that my brain can, in fact, retain information when it wants to.
After that, it was over to The Offy to pick up some focaccia sandwiches (manchego, serrano and tomato if you’re curious), some charcuterie, Kentish cheddar and a bottle of local sparkling wine because if you’re in Kent, it’s only right to keep things local. The team there was brilliant. Funny, welcoming and more than happy to chat recommendations, with an incredible selection of wines and local drinks.
With supplies acquired, we made our way down to the beach.
One thing worth knowing before your own Whitstable day trip is that the beaches are almost entirely pebbles. So if your idea of the perfect beach involves soft golden sand, this probably isn’t the place for you. Personally, I don’t mind a pebble beach. They’re made for skimming stones, stretching out with friends and settling in for a few hours with good food, a bottle of wine, and absolutely nowhere else you need to be. Which was exactly our plan. So, we found our spot, threw down the picnic blanket, unpacked the food and settled in.
As a side note, if oysters are your thing, then a Whitstable day trip is exactly what you need. Whitstable has been famous for them for centuries, thanks to the oyster beds in the Thames Estuary—and the Whitstable Oyster Company sits right on the seafront serving oysters, cockles and mussels. Personally, though, I still can’t get on board with oysters. I’ve tried them. Repeatedly. Wondering if this will be the one that changes my mind. It never does, and I’ve officially given up.
Instead, I was perfectly happy working my way through our picnic with friends from Germany, Luxembourg and France, discussing everything from careers and politics to relationships, travel and whatever tangent someone decided to take us down next. I think that’s one of my favourite things about living in London. It throws together people who would probably never have crossed paths otherwise, each bringing their own stories, opinions and perspectives to the table. Or, in this case, to a picnic blanket on a pebble beach in Kent.
We stayed there for hours, nibbling our way through the picnic, watching people swimming in the sea and talking about everything and nothing. We’d originally planned to walk the hour or so along the coast to The Sportsman in Seasalter. It seemed like a sensible way to build an appetite and take in a bit more of the coastline. Unfortunately for our sensible plan, the conversation was flowing just as easily as the sparkling wine. So, in a unanimous executive decision that nobody had to be talked into, we opened another bottle and booked ourselves a ten-minute Uber ride instead.
The drive over to The Sportsman is scenic, with rows of houses gradually giving way to open fields, with sheep and cows grazing alongside the road, and the sea wall appearing off in the distance. It feels like you’ve left the bustle of the town behind without ever being particularly far from it.
Hidden away on the edge of the marshes, The Sportsman occupies an inn that’s been standing since 1642. It’s light and airy inside, traditional without feeling stuffy, and has that homely sort of atmosphere that immediately encourages you to settle in for the afternoon rather than keep an eye on the time.
The Sportsman has built its reputation around what’s on its doorstep. Fish and oysters come from the Thames Estuary, while the surrounding marshes, woodland and farmland provide much of the meat, game and vegetables that make their way onto the menu. They grow herbs and more in their own garden and also have a handful of wooden cabins tucked away if you fancy turning lunch into an overnight stay. But we were there for one thing only: food.
We all opted for the Spring Menu, a five-course tasting menu (£85 per person), accompanied by a bottle of Gusbourne Estate Blanc de Blancs 2020 to start, before moving on to a Pouilly-Fuissé, Domaine des Trois Tilleuls 2022 from Burgundy.
One thing I really liked was that they didn’t just plonk some bread on the table while everyone settled in. Instead, alongside one of the group’s poached rock oysters with pickled cucumber and Avruga caviar, they brought out an assortment of snacks to kick things off. There was asparagus with hollandaise, crispy lamb with a smoked asparagus dip, an onion biscuit and an assortment of breads with sea salt butter. The crispy lamb was the group’s favourite. It had this incredible crunch before giving way to rich, meltingly soft lamb, with the smoked asparagus cutting through the richness perfectly.
The rest of the meal more than lived up to that start. We began with a chilled asparagus soup before moving on to the fish course, where two of us had roast monkfish with chorizo sauce and black olives. The others ordered shiitake mushroom risotto, and braised halibut with a cep and lemon verbena sauce (that was so good we’d all have happily drunk a mug of it).
For the meat courses, we ordered roast chicken with truffle cream sauce and pork & apricot stuffing, roast pork loin with crackling and sage roasting juices, and pink roast Aylesbury duck.
Before dessert arrived, we were treated to a complimentary panna cotta infused with herbs from the garden, acting as a slightly more calorific take on a palate cleanser.
And when it came to pudding, we ordered one of everything to share, because, in my opinion, that’s the only sensible way to approach dessert. Raspberry soufflé with raspberry ripple ice cream, dark chocolate and salted caramel tart with crème fraîche, elderflower posset with an elderflower fritter, and a strawberry Breton cake with strawberry ice cream.
The food was incredible, the service was warm, and before we knew it, we’d spent the best part of an afternoon talking about everything and nothing.
If you’re planning a visit to The Sportsman, it’s worth knowing that it’s roughly a ten-minute drive from both Whitstable and Faversham stations, making it really easy to reach whichever direction you’re travelling from. One tip, though. Book your return taxi in advance. They mentioned Whitstable has a bit of a taxi shortage in the evenings, and you’d be amazed at how quickly they disappear.
If you don’t fancy The Sportsman, I’ve heard great things about Whitstable Oyster Company, Harbour Street Tapas and The Lazy Lobster. Also, we only stopped at Wheelers Oyster Bar to stock up on picnic supplies, but several people insisted I need to go back for the lobster lasagne, so that’s firmly on the list for next time.
After lunch, we wandered back towards Whitstable along a peaceful stretch of coastline where the loudest thing you’ll probably hear is the odd dog walker calling after an overexcited spaniel. The beach was covered in oyster shells and little treasures washed up by the tide, making it the sort of place kids could happily spend an hour collecting things while everyone else soaked up the sea air.
Our original plan had been to walk all the way back. Instead, after about twenty minutes, we spotted another patch of beach, got the picnic blanket out again and sat chatting for another hour with a brief power nap before eventually making our way back into town to pick up a few bits for the train home. Honestly, if it weren’t for the rail replacement and Sunday train times, we would have stayed for hours longer.
If you’re planning your own Whitstable day trip, there’s plenty we didn’t get around to. Like grabbing a drink at Neptune, spending time browsing Harbour Market, hunting down some of the town’s street art or booking one of the boat trips out to the Maunsell Sea Forts or the local seal colonies. There’s also a castle, outdoor saunas and the White Cliffs of Dover & Battle of Britain experience if you’re looking to turn your Whitstable day trip into more than just a day by the sea.
Ordinarily, I’d say the perfect ending to any British seaside day involves sunset fish and chips followed by a Mr Whippy with a Flake, sherbet and blue raspberry sauce. But after the sheer quantity of food we’d consumed at lunch, even my gluttonous side had to admit defeat.
Next time.
