Uncategorized

The call of the sea

Often, after a particularly big weekend, I am forcibly extracted from my slumber on the Monday morning thinking that everything would be ok if I could only have another weekend to recover from the one I’ve just had. Over Easter we decided to put this to the test by spending the first two days of the long weekend down by the seaside. When we returned to London, we then got to have another weekend straight afterwards. Great!

Despite it being barely an hour away on the train, I had somehow never been to Brighton before Friday. I’m sure we’ll be back though: it’s like the bastard offspring of Bristol and Southport (or Blackpool, I suppose, to anyone not from the North West), and Sal and I both thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. And that’s not just because of the great company provided by our hosts, Brighton’s newest antipodean residents. Where else, I ask you, can you enjoy a beer on the beach without getting sand lodged in unpleasant places? And when you’ve finished, you can pop up the road to enjoy the best fish and chips in England (apparently).

For some reason, however, most of Brighton seems to have lived something of a chequered life–everything from the hotels (blown up by the IRA), to the historic, but now fire-ravaged, West Pier seem to have had more than their fair share of mishaps. Whatever these people might over-optimistically think (“We regret that due to the deterioration of the walkway, tours of the pier have been suspended in the interests of public safety. We hope that some form of tour will be reinstated in due course…”), there’s not much left of the pier now, but I was amused to find that a number of enterprising locals at their stalls on the promenade near the shell of rusting metal that is left are selling paintings of the dance hall on fire. We decided we probably didn’t want that on our wall, actually.

We also enjoyed marvelling at the impressive grandeur of the Royal Pavillion, itself subject to something of an eventful past: a team of old ladies carried out a decade of reconstruction work on the imposing Music Room after someone had thrown a petrol bomb through the window, only for the 1987 hurricane to destroy much of their hard work as a boulder fell through the newly-restored ceiling and damaged the carpet. If you’re planning a trip, you might want to go sooner, rather than later. Who knows what might be instore for the building next.

Bonus

Our bonus second weekend was mostly spent enjoying the roast dinner & beer combo at Camden’s Lock Tavern. Even with a whole extra Monday to recover watching downloaded new episodes of The Simpsons, and old DVD episodes of Spaced, somehow I still didn’t want to get up and come to work today. Actually, maybe I just don’t like work…

1 thought on “The call of the sea”

  1. I’ve only been to Brighton once, but I loved it. I keep meaning to go back, but somehow I never manage it.

    The Royal Pavillion pictures are giving me ideas for my own bedroom.

Comments are closed.