Now, I’ve been meaning to go down to Brighton – to get out of London at least – for the last month or so. Every weekend I’ve said I’d go, and then something else would come up or I was sick or otherwise incapacitated. So this weekend I, yet again, decided to go. But this time I made it.
As Marty was going to be staying with me over the weekend, when I saw him on Thursday I asked: ‘Would you like to come to Brighton with me on Saturday?’ and he said ‘Why not!’ So I invited Andrew along, as he too kept saying he’d like to go, and he said ‘Why not!’ and so we successfully managed to meet at the gate to platform 5 at Victoria station at approximately 1030 on Saturday morning and buy our tickets and get on the train…. But that was actually as far as our planning went.
I had only a vague idea of what you could do at Brighton. There was the Royal Pavilion and the Brighton Pier that I knew of, but beyond that I had no clue. And it turned out that Saturday was Martin’s Birthday (oops... I knew that. Honest. Well, most years I remember, but I’ve been kinda busy lately!), so there was a little added pressure to make sure that the day wasn’t a total loss, and consequently it was with a feeling of mild trepidation that I exited the train at the Brighton Station. I needn’t have worried. It was a lovely day, a little random due to the general air of vagueness that surrounded all of us, but we managed to fill in the time somehow.
It was lovely weather. Warm enough to ware shorts actually and I ended up getting a tan line from my watch. We walked down to the sea and along the beach…which is not a beach as I know it. There is no sand, only pebbles, and they crunch as you walk along. I went for a short paddle in the channel, but that was all I could handle – the stones hurt your feet!! The water wasn’t too warm either.
Then we walked along Brighton Pier for Time the First. It is amazingly tacky. Its a permanent mini-show grounds with roller coasters and dodgem cars and side-show alley games that win you teddy bears and fairy floss and toffee apple… only this is an adult version, so you can gable in the arcades and there is a pub on site. It is tacky heaped on kitsch with more than a dash of cringe.
We had fish and chips on the pier for lunch which was good, and we promised ourselves to come back for Donuts for Martin and Fairy Floss for Andrew but I couldn’t be bothered waiting so I bought 4 sticks of Brighton Rock… to share! Honest!!
So off we wandered; we no idea where we were going, but discovered a lovely fountain on the way there.
Then we found the Royal Pavilion which is a party residence established by the Prince Regent back in the 1800s I think. I was amazed at the architecture. It’s Indian on the outside but very influenced by China on the inside. We weren’t allowed to take pictures, and there were people standing around everywhere to make sure you didn’t, but boy I wish I could have. Spectacular doesn’t do it justice. It was amazingly decadent, and sumptuous, and awe-inspiring – especially the banquet hall and the music room. There were dragons everywhere. It was luxurious, extravagant, opulent, and over the top. The splendour is completely underrepresented by the photos available on the web. It really has to be seen to be believed. The dragon holding up the chandelier – well the damn thing is five or six feet long, and the detail... I really am lost for words.
So, onwards and outwards to a cafe in The Lanes to refuel – and a crème brule that was a little hard on my nerves – it came in a ceramic bowl which put my teeth on edge every time I scraped my spoon across it. But the English Breakfast tea with lemon and honey was very nice.
Then we went back to the pier for Time the Second. This time, Andrew and I went on one of the rides – just to say we’d gone on a tacky ride really – called the Turbo something. It was a rollercoaster and it went very fast, and upside down and sideways… and it took less time from start to finish than it took for me to write this sentence. And then we had a couple of drinks at Horatio’s bar on the Pier, because it was a pub on a pier, and because it was Martins birthday. And Andrew finally got his fairy floss but Martin declined his donuts… then it was getting cold so we moved on.
So then we went to a bar called the Sussex (because this was the name of the Gang Show after-rehearsal bar for the entire time I was there) for a drink and some dinner – but they’d stopped serving food. So we went to another bar and they’d stopped serving food too, and onto a third and three strikes and we’re out. So we went to an Italian pizza place. Nice pizza but Martin had the smallest glass of Guinness I’ve ever seen. He wasn’t very impressed.
After than, we went back to the pier for Time the Third to take night photos.
By then it was getting quite cold so we started the trek home, stopping by yet another bar for a drink on their upstairs outdoor balcony – amazing how these things sprang up just after the ban on smoking.
By which time we were totally exhausted but surprisingly not inebriated so took the next train home.
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