Where: Brighton, England
When: June 30, 2013
With: Dave, Mireya, Joaquin
Summer in England is...well...mildly disappointing. When it's nice, it's perfect. The problem is that it's not nice very often. The temperature doesn't usually warm up at all from March through June, and when you are wearing a jacket heading into July, it just feels sad. So when the forecast was showing 75 and sunny on the day we planned a trip to Brighton Beach, it just seemed to good to be true.
We waited on the platform at the train station in the warm sunshine with images of tan lines and ice cream in our heads. We spent the one hour ride down to England's most famous seaside resort with mimosas in hand and feeling that happy energy you have when you're about to spend your first nice day of summer outside. However, upon exiting a particularly long train tunnel towards the end of the route, we were dismayed to come out on the other side and see that the sunshine had actually disappeared. The mood on the train was mutual as everyone looked around and became perplexed. A cloud had literally descended over just this small patch of England. But we thought, no matter, it will surely pass/lift/blow over...do whatever it is clouds do. The forecast called for sun all day!
Exiting the train, we were hit with the chilly air. Not only was the sun gone, but it had dropped about 15 degrees. Eek. The walk from the train station towards the beach was relatively short (about 15 minutes), but the excitement was hard to muster as we shivered along.
At the end of the main street, we hit the edge of town. The feel of Brighton had suddenly changed over from "typical British town" with its pubs and shops to a seaside resort with striped deck chairs and quirky shops. The only problem was we couldn't actually see the ocean. We knew it must be there, but the fog was so heavy, we couldn't see anything.
Off in the distance, we could just make out the famous Brighton pier, finally confirming that we were walking in the right direction.
And what trip to the boardwalk would be complete without the boys competing in a good old-fashioned throwing game?
The main attraction of Brighton (besides the beach, of course...when its warm) is the Royal Pavilion. Built in the 1700s as a royal getaway for King George IV when he was still a young party-boy prince, no expense was spared. Inspired by 19th-century Indian architecture, it looked like a smaller scale Taj Mahal by the sea.
Brighton was an amazingly close and lovely getaway, but I want to go back when the weather is warm and preferably, the sun is shining.
When: June 30, 2013
With: Dave, Mireya, Joaquin
Summer in England is...well...mildly disappointing. When it's nice, it's perfect. The problem is that it's not nice very often. The temperature doesn't usually warm up at all from March through June, and when you are wearing a jacket heading into July, it just feels sad. So when the forecast was showing 75 and sunny on the day we planned a trip to Brighton Beach, it just seemed to good to be true.
We waited on the platform at the train station in the warm sunshine with images of tan lines and ice cream in our heads. We spent the one hour ride down to England's most famous seaside resort with mimosas in hand and feeling that happy energy you have when you're about to spend your first nice day of summer outside. However, upon exiting a particularly long train tunnel towards the end of the route, we were dismayed to come out on the other side and see that the sunshine had actually disappeared. The mood on the train was mutual as everyone looked around and became perplexed. A cloud had literally descended over just this small patch of England. But we thought, no matter, it will surely pass/lift/blow over...do whatever it is clouds do. The forecast called for sun all day!
Exiting the train, we were hit with the chilly air. Not only was the sun gone, but it had dropped about 15 degrees. Eek. The walk from the train station towards the beach was relatively short (about 15 minutes), but the excitement was hard to muster as we shivered along.
At the end of the main street, we hit the edge of town. The feel of Brighton had suddenly changed over from "typical British town" with its pubs and shops to a seaside resort with striped deck chairs and quirky shops. The only problem was we couldn't actually see the ocean. We knew it must be there, but the fog was so heavy, we couldn't see anything.
Nonetheless, we put on a brave face to take the beach photos we so wanted.
Walking down the pebbled beach, we were able to confirm that there was in fact water.
We began to walk along the long promenade lining the beach. Shops were built underneath the main road along the shore and people were strolling along, enjoying the town. Fresh seafood shacks and amusement rides lined this brick pathway and almost made me feel like I was on the Jersey shore...ok, not at all, nevermind.
Off in the distance, we could just make out the famous Brighton pier, finally confirming that we were walking in the right direction.
It has an other worldly feel when you see this looming out of the mist.
Slightly chilled, we made it to the pier. Only thing to do now is to insert our faces into the wooden cut outs at the entrance to celebrate our arrival.
The pier was huge. Maybe because we couldn't see to the end in all the fog, but it felt like it just went on and on and on. Food huts lined the entire way, selling old-fashioned candy, deep fried dough and ice cream. There were also several covered arcades containing all the classic games. We all tried our hand at the 10 pence game (where you drop a coin into the pile of coins and hope it topples over many more coins) and lost many a 10p. Dave excitedly put his money into a Zoltar machine, only to be denied his fortune. Curse you, Zoltar.
We all got caught up on this horse betting game for quite a long time. I never once won, I had such bad luck.
And what trip to the boardwalk would be complete without the boys competing in a good old-fashioned throwing game?
At the very end of the pier, there were a variety of rides, both old and new. But a recent lunch of (what else?) fish and chips combined with the idea of riding a roller coaster in the cold air caused us to all mutually agree on passing. Instead, Mireya tried her hand (or foot) at a variety of football skills games.
It was fun to wander, but such a shame that it was so cold. Beside the fact that the weather forecast was continuing to incorrectly state that it was 71 degrees (where it was more high 50s), we were receiving constant updates that everyone else was enjoying the nearly 80 degree weather back in London. Grrrrr....it's ok, it's ok, we're enjoying the.....beach. At least I got a lollypop out of it.
The main attraction of Brighton (besides the beach, of course...when its warm) is the Royal Pavilion. Built in the 1700s as a royal getaway for King George IV when he was still a young party-boy prince, no expense was spared. Inspired by 19th-century Indian architecture, it looked like a smaller scale Taj Mahal by the sea.
The Asian-inspired interior is lavish beyond belief with grotesquely ornate decor. No photos were allowed, but this is an artists drawing of the dining room as it looked in 1826. Not much has changed now. Note the dragon that has been built into the ceiling over the chandelier.
After the Royal Pavilion, we could no longer shake off the chill from the air and for the first time ever, the warm weather in London beckoned us back. As we headed back to the train station, we took one small detour through the small lanes in the center of the town (appropriately referred to as The Lanes). Lots of boutique shops and pubs inhabit this narrow maze of streets.
Brighton was an amazingly close and lovely getaway, but I want to go back when the weather is warm and preferably, the sun is shining.
No comments:
Post a Comment