There wasn’t really much rockin’ going on in Brighton this morning, unless you count me rockin’ excitedly in my seat as I waited for my granola and yoghurt and fruit to arrive at Bill’s Cafe. You probably wouldn’t count that. I actually didn’t rock excitedly in my seat either (though I was VERY hungry and VERY MUCH in the mood for breakfast and coffee). And my granola and yoghurt and fruit WAS extremely delicious, and warranted excited rockin’ but nay, rock, I did not.
But I couldn’t think of another title for this post.
“You Brighton Up My Life”? Nah.
“Rainbow Bright-on”? Don’t think so.
Brighton Rock it is.
Still in the throes of jetlag, Rich and I were up at the ungodly hour of 4.45am this morning. After showers and much faffing, we left our little flat in East London at 6.30am, strolled to Whitechapel tube, and off we went to Brighton.
Brighton is stunning… Multicoloured houses set on steep, cobbled streets; planter boxes hanging from windows full of flowers and herbs; tiny, winding laneways; gulls barking from rooftops (which, OK, wasn’t so brilliant, but along with salt and vinegar chips and blobuley seaweed, it’s a beach town trademark).
But Brighton is not a beach town; it’s the seaside!! Saying ‘seaside’ makes me want to don long striped swimming shorts and a bathing cap, and eat rainbow-coloured icecream on a pier… Seaside is a magical word….
I digress. After my granola and coffee and juice, I hit the streets, wandering up hills and through parks and along alleys, gazing longingly at window displays full of fudge and boiled lollies, and walking past 100-strong film crews. Patting dogs tied up outside shops. Thinking “This is the life – I could live somewhere like this…”
A few hours later, I met Rich at the train station and back to London we went. We passed one small town called Purley Oaks, which made me think of curly knitted trees… How nice would that be? A whole forest full of Purl-y Oaks.
Brighton has made me misty eyed.