Day two in Brighton: Part 3

That’s right – we spent a night in Brighton. The next day we woke up before 10, hit a breakfast joint where I had a delicious Chai Latte and Eggs Benedict, and we hopped on the bus to arrive in Brighton City Centre.

The South Laines (I think this is the South Laines) is an area of Brighton  – mostly shopping, some restaurants, pubs and cafes – close to the beach strewn throughout winding cobblestone streets. It is extremely quaint and full of cute shops. Tru bought some studded antique earrings that came in a heart-shaped box! On the left I am standing in front of a waffle shop called ‘Cloud 9′.  Petroula is on a strict no-chocolate-no-sweets plan for 45 days – just to test her fortitude – and did a good job avoiding the sweet shoppe, although I did convince her to take a photo with it. I envy her restraint. I don’t much like the candy here, but I could never give up chocolate. At the time of this photo she had made it through 28 days. Yes, the sweet shoppe is called Fizziwigg’s!

After wandering the Laines, we made our way to the beach, which was illuminated in sunshine.

There were several statues, including this donut-like piece pictured below. I don’t know what it was, or why it was there, but Tru’s photo does a good job of showing it. Adventure-wise, we were cold because our coats were still wet and the day was sunny but fridgidly cold, but if you can see the smiles on our faces you’ll get a sense of how content we were despite the creature discomforts.

I was told that in summer the beach is packed, but during the first week of December most people avoid the seafront in exchange for a comfy chair next to the fire at the local pub. Not these Canadians; we spent a good half hour snapping photos on the English Channel, before eventually walking to Brighton Pier, which we had visited the night before but couldn’t fully explore due visiting hours. The pier itself is free to visit, and has an arcade/slots, various restaurants and food stands, a pub, and a carnival. My flatmate recommended Fish ‘n Chips on the pier, so I had my first fully British Fish ‘n Chips.

We had one additional stop on our way back to the train station – Brighton Pavillion. But before we left the pier, we just had to get a photo together, especially since Petroula is leaving London for a while. Pretty as a postcard!

We didn’t actually get a chance to go into the Pavillion, or learn anything about it, but Petroula did take a few photos outside, and here is one of them, along with some information about the Pavillion from Wiki:

The Royal Pavilion is a former royal residence located in Brighton, England. It was built in three campaigns, beginning in 1787, as a seaside retreat for George, Prince of Wales, from 1811 Prince Regent. It is often referred to as the Brighton Pavilion. It is built in the Indo-Saracenic style prevalent in India for most of the 19th century, with the most extravagant chinoiserie interiors ever executed in the British Isles. Between 1815 and 1822 the designer John Nash redesigned and greatly extended the Pavilion, and it is the work of Nash which can be seen today. The palace looks rather striking in the middle of Brighton, having a very Indian appearance on the outside. However, the fanciful interior design, primarily by Frederick Crace and the little-known decorative painter Robert Jones, is heavily influenced by both Chinese and Indian fashion (with Mughal and Islamic architectural elements). It is a prime example of the exoticism that was an alternative to more classicising mainstream taste in the Regency style.

Must go back to check it out further. And this concludes our trip to Brighton. We made it to the train station in time, not before Petroula’s backpack caught fire at a cafe and burned her favourite hat, and arrived back in London in time for dinner Sunday evening. Alas, the next week we both spent in and out of bed with strangely-similar flu symptoms, but I had such a great time in Brighton that I’ll take the bouts of headache and nausea. I got to touch the sea.

Brighton Beach: Part 2

… So in continuation, Petroula (who leaves today *sob!*) and I finished our very large platter ‘o shellfish, and thanks to a break in the drizzly weather, were able to explore the beach a bit before heading back to the hostel.

Petroula at the beach in Hove

I was eager to comb for beach glass – Petroula mentioned that she had never found a piece of beach glass – but the only piece I found was a small fragment of green not worth keeping. We did find several shells, though…

Shells shells, everywhere.

I swear it was a piece of petrified crab. Tru disbelieved me. She was probably right.

There wasn’t much sand at the beach, but there were a lot of waves. And rocks. And shells, as I mentioned earlier.

Brighton on the Sea: Part 1

There’s a village just an hours train ride outside of London, where tickets (if purchased in advance online) are a mere 3.50 GBPs, or 7 GBPs round-trip. Deals like this make visiting sea-side tows very attractive.

This past weekend, Petroula and I embarked on a trip that I can only refer to as an compilation of mini-adventures. It was one of the most ‘spin it to the positive’ times I have ever had, and as a result the trip was entirely thrilling.

The adventure started Saturday morning, when we both left our neighbourhood areas of London (apparently mine is South East, not Central as I later informed the cabbie) to find that our respective tube lines were experiencing severe delays. (TFL, you let me down!) The Jubilee line was closed between London Bridge and Green Park – my very destination – so I was forced to use my London Underground wit (and my trusty pocket map – available at all London Underground stations) to route an alternate path to Victoria Station. Unfortunately, this alternate route modified my commute from 18 minutes to nearly thirty, and being underground I was unable to contact Tru to inform her of my delay. We arrived at Victoria in time to print our tickets and hop aboard the 10:22 train for Brighton; not our scheduled time, but due to the “snow” in England, the trains were running at altered schedules.

One hour, one orange, and a non-flushing train toilet later, we arrived at Brighton Station. I had checked the bus map prior to leaving and knew we were to take the #6 bus into Hove for our hostel – SoBo Brighton – and I wrote down the address of the hostel, but not directions from the bus stop to our accommodations. The bus ride was estimated at 20 minutes, but due to protests in the city centre, our trip was severely delayed (yet again). We just happened to notice a sign to ‘alight for George St. S’, and hopped off the steamy, crowded bus in time for our stop. And then we were no longer inside the warm, dry bus. What was overcast and melty in London was also overcast in Brighton, but the weather was less melting than it was downpouring, and we ran for shelter at the Tesco spotted across the street from the bus stop. With high hopes of finding an umbrella (both had removed our parapluies from our bags during London’s blizzard), we scoured the grocery store, leaving with nothing but our sights set on the library across the street. Petroula charmed the Librarian into looking up directions to our hostel, which happened to be just around the corner from the bus stop. If only we had turned in the opposite direction, we would have noticed the street sign and avoided the utter soaking of our only coats.

We dashed down the street until we arrived at the pink building, checked in and left our bags in the lobby until our rooms were available. Just down the street we could see the ocean, and our stomachs beckoned us to find a restaurant along the seashore. Tucked on a back street we found marroccos.co.uk, where we indulged in a huge shellfish platter for two: prawns, crab, oysters, mussels, scallops and lemon. It was delicious.

Stay tuned for part two. In the meantime, check out Design*Sponge’s Brighton City Guide, which was published three days after we returned from Brighton. Boo.