Those people who don’t like the crowds, or the heat or don’t have children often choose to holiday in September. Everything gets a little bit cheaper and the holiday destinations less frenetic. I heartily recommend it.
He leaves an interesting account of the young visitors to the resort.
So many children are brought down to our watering-place that, when they are not out of doors, as they usually are in fine weather, it is wonderful where they are put: the whole village seeming much too small to hold them under cover. In the afternoons, you see no end of salt and sandy little boots drying on upper window-sills. At bathing-time in the morning, the little bay re-echoes with every shrill variety of shriek and splash — after which, if the weather be at all fresh, the sands teem with small blue mottled legs. The sands are the children’s great resort. They cluster there, like ants: so busy burying their particular friends, and making castles with infinite labour which the next tide overthrows, that it is curious to consider how their play, to the music of the sea, foreshadows the realities of their after lives.
Broadstairs remained one of Dickens’ favourite holiday places but he also travelled further afield. In 1844 he took his whole family in what must have resembled a caravan around France and Italy. He stayed at two villas for the last six months of the year.
Even then, it was wonderful to be a writer.