Tony Grist (poliphilo) wrote,
Tony Grist
poliphilo

Brighton

English seaside towns are sleepy places out of season. Two weeks ago Southend felt like the last stop on the road to nowhere; we took a quick look and hurried away. Last week Eastbourne, which we love, was empty and rain-washed. But Brighton doesn't recognise seasons. Brighton- like a handful of London streets scooped up and plonked down beside the sea- is always a-rockin' and a-rollin'.

Brighton- yeah, Brighton. It's not not the loveliest of the seaside towns, nor the most historic- but it's the Queen of them- handsome, infamous and bloody amazing.

It cost us £17 to park the car, but we gritted our teeth and decided it was going to be worth it. We ate at a Persian/Turkish/Armenian restaurant (I'm a convert), went round the Royal Pavilion and ate freshly cooked doughnuts on the pier- and, yes, it was. Totally.

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