Latest news with #LadyHamilton
The Sun
17-05-2025
- Business
- The Sun
Historic seaside town named cheapest place to live in Kent with award-winning pub and very famous ex-local
A HISTORIC seaside town has been named the cheapest place to live in Kent. Queenborough, on the Isle of Sheppey, is the cheapest place to buy a home in Kent, according to new data. 3 3 Homes in the ME11 postcode area sold for an average of £224,167 each over the last 12 months to the end of February. This average is less than any other postcode in the county with at least 20 sales over the past year. The figures, which were released by the Land Registry, show that the lowest house prices in Kent include Queenborough and Rushenden. The town of Queenborough is located just two miles from Sheerness and is known for its rich history. In the town, visitors will find numerous heritage buildings and a small church, which was built at the end of the 14th century. The harbour is home to a number of fishing boats where a small market takes place every second Saturday from 10am to 3pm, during the summer season. The town even has a micropub in the town called The Admiral's Arm. The award-winning pub even has a tapas restaurant next door, although you can also order a pizza there. This was likely named after Admiral Lord Nelson who was rumoured to have learned many of his sailing skills nearby. He also lived in Queenborough with his mistress Lady Hamilton. Inside the stunning Gold Caravan at Haven Kent Coast including ensuite bathroom and walk-in wardrobe It is also home to Queenborough Castle, built during the Hundred Years' War in the 1300s. It was thought to have inspired Henry VII's Deal Castle and Walmer Castle. Dover follows behind Queensborough, with houses selling for £234,660 in average in the CT17 postcode. Westgate-on-sea (CT8) followed with homes selling for £263,493 on average and then Chatham (ME4) was next, with the average home selling for £269,836. Houses in Ramsgate (CT11) cost slightly more with the average home selling for £276,858. The are of Riverhead had the highest average sale price across Kent, with the average home selling for £869,163 in the TN13 postcode area. Other expensive areas in Kent included Langton Green, Penshurst, Cudham and Orpington. Last year, Sevenoaks topped the Times' best places to live in south east England listing and was noted for being a great spot for commuters heading into the capital. Also in Kent, a 'Royal' English town with one of the UK's fanciest Wetherspoons, was named as one of the top places to live in the UK. Plus, the trendy English town home to 'national treasure' beach lido is crowned BEST seaside spot to move to in UK. 3 House prices in Kent All the postcode areas in Kent: ME11 (Queenborough): £224,167 CT17 (Dover): £234,660 CT8 (Westgate-on-sea): £263,493 ME4 (Chatham): £269,836 CT11 (Ramsgate): £276,858 ME12 (Isle Of Sheppey): £288,588 CT12 (Minster): £294,374 CT16 (Dover): £295,335 ME7 (Gillingham): £296,56 CT20 (Central Folkestone): £296,850 ME6 (Snodland): £299,676 DA9 (Greenhithe): £300,955 ME10 (Sittingbourne): £304,182 CT9 (Margate): £306,607 CT19 (Central Folkestone): £308,620 ME5 (Walderslade): £311,784 TN23 (Ashford): £315,347 DA11 (Gravesend): £319,971 TN24 (Ashford): £325,428 ME2 (Strood): £327,532 ME1 (Rochester): £328,146 CT7 (Birchington): £328,558 TN28 (New Romney): £331,912 TN29 (Lydd): £332,150 CT1 (Canterbury): £333,795 CT6 (Herne Bay): £340,325 DA10 (Swanscombe): £343,788 DA12 (Gravesend): £345,299 CT13 (Sandwich): £347,796 ME8 (Rainham): £348,199 ME15 (Bearsted): £356,296 ME16 (Barming): £356,401 CT14 (Deal): £362,162 DA1 (Dartford): £362,526 CT2 (Sturry): £366,492 ME13 (Faversham): £371,328 ME14 (Maidstone): £373,237 ME3 (Rochester): £385,072 ME9 (Sittingbourne): £388,518 ME20 (Aylesford): £390,796 DA4 (Dartford): £395,679 CT10 (Pysons Road Industrial Estate): £399,920 BR8 (Swanley): £401,929 TN9 (Tonbridge): £405,260 CT3 (Canterbury): £406,861 CT21 (Hythe): £411,331 CT18 (Hawkinge): £411,612 CT15 (Dover): £415,667 DA2 (Dartford): £421,353 TN25 (Challock): £452,184 ME17 (Hollingbourne): £452,224 TN12 (Paddock Wood): £456,992 CT5 (Whitstable): £466,243 TN27 (Headcorn): £480,248 TN1 (Royal Tunbridge Wells): £482,983 ME18 (Maidstone): £483,545 CT4 (Canterbury): £501,831 TN10 (Tonbridge): £502,411 TN8 (Edenbridge): £503,034 ME19 (West Malling): £503,335 TN26 (Bethersden): £503,336 TN30 (Tenterden): £505,565 DA3 (Longfield): £514,858 TN2 (Royal Tunbridge Wells): £528,456 TN16 (Biggin Hill): £535,635 TN4 (Rusthall): £543,046 DA13 (Meopham): £550,369 TN17 (Cranbrook): £551,471 TN18 (Hawkhurst): £554,042 DA5 (Bexley): £566,539 TN15 (Ightham): £581,205 BR6 (Orpington): £604,481 TN14 (Cudham): £635,825 TN11 (Penshurst): £642,976 TN3 (Langton Green): £742,464 TN13 (Riverhead): £869,163
Telegraph
09-03-2025
- General
- Telegraph
‘A bloke with tattoos on his face started on me over an umbrella': My day of drinking in Britain's pub capital
The HMS Warrior stands proud in Portsmouth Harbour as rain raps the windows of the Lady Hamilton. It's Friday afternoon and the dockside pub is busy with a mature crowd. Perfectly permed ladies and besuited gents tuck into roast dinners – served here seven days a week – while a kettle boils on the bar. It's a snapshot of a bygone Britain that's fading away. Also fading is the certificate above the bar reminding patrons that the Lady Hamilton – named after Nelson's mistress – was voted the third best pub in Portsmouth in 2018. Past glories. 'Pompey' has plenty of those. Oscar Whild has a few, too. The Navy veteran, who's drinking in the pub with family and friends, has the rare distinction of having captained the HMS Victory. Yes, the ship that Nelson died on in the Battle of Trafalgar. It's in dry dock in the nearby Historic Dockyard and is – technically – still in service. 'It's the oldest commissioned warship in the world,' says Whild, proudly, as a nearby fruit machine makes promises of riches. 'If it all kicks off in Ukraine, we're ready to go.' It might come to that the way things are going. Only the Victory would 'sink in seconds' if they put it on the water, says Whild, who oversaw ceremonial events and maintenance. 'It's just a constant replacing of wood,' he says. Whild also served in the Gulf War and Falklands, where he was hit by shrapnel on the deck of HMS Broadsword during an Argentinian air raid. 'It was only a scratch,' he says. 'My family got a message to say that I'd been injured and was coming home on the QE2 to Southampton. It wasn't true; the lines of communication had got mixed up. They went down [to Southampton], but I wasn't there.' It's not every day that you get to meet a former captain, let alone of such a distinguished vessel. But pubs are great levellers, you never know who you might find in one. And Portsmouth – birthplace of Charles Dickens, who liked a drink – reputedly has more per square mile than anywhere else in Britain. Other cities make similar boasts – including St Albans, scene of another pub crawl for this paper – but the (contested) data appears to support Pompey's claim. For now. 'We've lost a lot of them,' says Whild. 'You never used to walk more than 100 yards for a pub.' Portsmouth's taverns used to be rich pickings for Navy press gangs, who went around the city preying on drunk men in the 17th- and 18th-centuries. 'They'd club them over the head, drag them to the ships and take them to fight the French before they sobered up,' says Whild. Back then Portsmouth was the world's greatest naval port. It's still a naval base today, but no ships have been built here since 2013, when 500 years of shipbuilding came to an inglorious end. 'I don't know who the biggest employer is now,' sighs Whild. 'It's probably the DHS.' I leave the Lady Hamilton and head towards Old Portsmouth, passing Gunwharf Quays on the way. The sprawling retail complex rose from the rubble of a former ordinance site, but the only firepower here nowadays is Nandos' peri-peri chicken. Old Portsmouth's pretty, cobbled streets are a welcome contrast to the rough and ready harbour. I dive into The Dolphin opposite the cathedral, which claims to be Pompey's oldest pub. There, under the low-beamed ceiling, a stag party is playing où est le poulet? (Where is the chicken?). The game involves dressing the stag up as a chicken and sending him off to hide in one of 10 pre-agreed pubs. While he's there, spending a kitty that the rest have paid into, the other lads split up and look for him. 'You have to have a pint in every pub you look in,' says Freddy Urquhart, the surprisingly sober stag, who's dressed as Snow White. 'They didn't have a chicken costume,' he explains. Urquhart, who's from Oxford and works for an animal charity, is with three pals who have found him already. 'Three others are still looking for me.' I leave them to it and head to nearby Still & West, a shipshape Grade II-listed gastro pub at the harbour entrance. 'We're a bit of a tourist attraction,' coos Barry Martin, a manager at the pub, as Isle of Wight-bound ferries sail past the window. 'People sit here for hours watching the ships go by.' It certainly beats doom scrolling on X. I join them for a bit before returning to the harbour. Big mistake. Dockside Pompey is a different beast. Gone are the genial pensioners. It's a boisterous, blokey affair now, especially in the Ship Anson, long a favoured haunt for rowdy sailors. Recalling a tip from Martin, I head instead to Albert Road in nearby Southsea, following tree-lined streets where birds twitter in bushes and stout Edwardian homes have me scrolling Rightmove. In the distance, a wheezing hovercraft sets off for the Isle of Wight. Albert Street is lined with bars and restaurants and has a welcome buzz. There's a theatre, a live music venue – the Wedgewood Rooms – and proper boozers, including the Duke of Devonshire, where I arrange to meet my old pal 'Disco', a proud Pompey lad. As I walk into the pub, I immediately upset a bloke with tattoos on his face because I have an umbrella. He gets up and walks towards me but is intercepted, mercifully, by a woman I presume to be his wife. 'It's only an umbrella, dear,' she says, calmingly. He sits back down as the Stones come on the jukebox. The mood lifts. At the bar, a friendly lady called Deborah* sidles over to me. She's old enough to be my mum. She came out for a drink 'about a day ago', she says, but is still out. She whispers some French into my ear and tells me that it's 'nice to meet someone sane', proving she's a bad judge of character. I make my excuses and find a table near some guy who looks like an extra in Peaky Blinders and a bloke in a Hawaiian shirt. It's 5C outside. Characters – there just aren't enough of them these days. Speaking of characters, in walks Disco. I tell him about my day in Portsmouth's pubs; about the Navy veteran, Snow White, Deborah, the guy a few tables over who nearly started on me. He sips his pint and laughs. 'Classic Pompey,' he says. 'You've got to love it.' Love's a strong word, but in the haze of a tipsy hour, I feel a certain soft spot for the salty old seadog. *This name has been changed
