Brighton

We picked an awesome day to go to Brighton- the sun was shining and there was not a cloud in the sky, or at least that’s what we thought until we arrived. Brighton was full to overflow with motorbikes – there were 1000’s of them- lining the footpaths, the parks and everywhere you turned was another aging tattooed biker in full black leathers. I felt sorry for the tour operator who was struggling to be heard over the roar of Harleys (they were a Cosmos group so most of them would have had hearing aids anyway!)

We arrived bright and early so made our first destination the Royal Palace, built by King George IV. The outside looked Indian but the inside (where you weren’t allowed to take photos) was decorated with a Chinese theme, as was the fashion of the time despite George never having been there. The interior of the palace was astounding. The dining room and music room were so extravagant that your jaw just dropped and you just stared in amazement at the lush exuberance of it all. They said the King had a love of beautiful things and wanted to impress and that was certainly obvious. The audio guide that you listened to as walking around gave a history of the palace and the King himself. It was probably the first time I’ve found royalty interesting. The dining room featured a 1 Tonne chandelier hanging from the roof by the jaws of a dragon and beneath this were about 7 other smaller dragons with oil lamps made to look like fire from their jaws. Warren reckoned Grandma Strother would have loved the tour as it is likely that it is the elegant regal look that she is trying to achieve in her 1 bedroom Temple View granny flat.

From here we explored the pier – it was full of touristy things – slot machines, bumper cars and rides that were still pretty empty at 11am on a Sunday, I guess everyone was still in bed recovering from their Saturday nights. We then wandered through the lanes- narrow pretty pedestrian only streets full of eating places and boutiques. The shops were quite vintage and kitch, kind of like Cuba Street. We chose an Italian restaurant with a table out on the lane enjoying our chicken baguettes and onion rings (neither of which sounds very Italian) in the sun. After wandering through the lanes some more we headed back to the ‘beach’, the first pebble beach I’ve been to. Surprisingly, it’s still quite picturesque and even more surprising was how comfortable pebbles can be to lie on. So comfortable in fact that I fell asleep (well I did get up early to catch our 8am train). The beachfront offered some spectacles of the typical British exhibitionism – seriously I don’t know how togs have a market over here. British are quite happy to strip off to their bra and undies and lie on the pebbles or go for a swim. But still I cant help but stare in disbelief as a 40 something biker chick strips off revealing a white body complete with roll bars and cellulite, thinking nothing of it.
Brighton is known for its acceptance of all types of people and that was evident here, gays, goths, retro- hippy types all seemed to be harmoniously together in the ‘happening’ city of Brighton.