Seaside Town

Brighton.
I fell in love with the southern seaside town.
The National Railway train departing Victoria station arrived quicker in Brighton than I had anticipated. I had hoped for landscapes of rolling green hills of the U.K., but the sun sets early these days. Around 4 p.m. dusk sets in and in an blink of the eye, we'd arrived.
A brilliant cabbie told us to visit the pier, The Lanes -- a series of nook and cranny cobblestone alleyways -- and a few known local restaurants. Cabbies have the best recommendations because they tend to know what's good and what's shit.
Despite the howling winds and pelting raindrops we braced the environment and ventured to dinner at a pho restaurant, which is the perfect medicine for inclement weather.

Pho for bad weather.

I'm slowly getting used to the rain England brings. Home to episodes of Qi with Stephen Fry and Top Gear.
The next day, however, it was all sun and warmth. Perfect.
We began our adventure along the seaside. Thomas and I stood in the uneven rocks and took a moment to breathe in the sea salt air. The waves were choppy, but the breeze was gentle.

"20p for a view? Inflation!"

Beneath the pier walkway were these quirky independent shops -- one a glass blowing business that make those lit up carnival signs regularly seen in hipster coffee shops.
"There's a science to it," said the artist, as he took an open flame to the fluorescent bulb.
Beside it was an art gallery carrying different local painters. Lots of pieces showed Fatboy Slim aka Norman Cook -- some autographed -- as he often DJs at Brighton Beach.
Very cool.

We walked along Brighton Pier, a historic location that opened in 1899, and is now the home of a low-budget carnival, but not one lacking charm.
At the time, it cost a record £27,000 to build. There was also a rival western pier, but closed in 1975 and was subsequently severely damaged by fires and storms. What was left of the iron structure was partially demolished in 2010.
Strangely enough, there is a fish and chips place whose ads boast is a "national treasure" by Michelin restaurateur Heston Blumenfeld.
Random.

Heston Blumenthal recommended spot on Brighton Pier.

The gulls on the pier are huge. They are definitely superior in size to the ones in Ontario but could put up a fight with the ones I've seen in San Francisco. I once saw a seagull at Pier 8 at SF swoop down and thieve a bread bowl of clam chowder from some poor schmuck. That's how brazen these birds are.
Brighton's gulls, in contrast, seem to be more concerned with posing for Instagram shots. Really, they are.

"Supermodel, work."

From there, we explored the Lanes, little shops here and there before arriving at the aquarium.
If you get a chance to see the Sea Life Aquarium, I highly recommend it. It remains housed in its original Victorian-era building and has many large tanks of some of the coolest stingrays I've seen. They literally looked like they were flying and gliding, not swimming, through the water.
But the key feature of the attraction is this indoor tunnel that stretches above your head so that you see giant tortoises, sharks and other sea creatures move overhead. When there are no other people around, a sit on the bench inside the tunnel is the most relaxing thing.

The overhead view

Do you see Jesus or some weird face among the piranhas?

We also went out for cream tea -- afternoon tea with scones with clotted cream -- delicious, unpasteurized rich butter -- and jam. The tea was lapsang souchong, a smoky black blend.
It was very dainty, very English, and I enjoyed every moment of it.

Scone with clotted cream

Brighton is also home to a great Art Deco museum and adjacent to it, an Indian-inspired pavilion that has a skating rink in it. The night before, we saw a poor guy tripped and go face first into the ice and the medic later went out to scrape out the blood from the ice.
Thomas shuddered. Having lived through the trauma of being hit by a car when he was younger, he was cautious about injuries. But he stepped out of his comfort level for a bit and we did a few laps around, with Ricky Martin or whatever that was on Heart FM playing in the background. No blood on the ice-floor.

Penguins for non-skaters at the pavillion

Near the pavilion was our dinner spot -- Very Italian Pizza, known in Brighton for good and cheap wood oven pizzas. When we arrived there was a kid who had passed out on the table. Done.
On display at the front of house were those Italian cakes, I forget the name, but my dad who used to work at La Spiga, an Italian restaurant in Aurora, would bring home every Christmas.
Thomas said his father, who worked in Italy on a film years ago, would send a bunch of the same cakes home.
"We're they the driest things? Wow," he said.

Ah-pizza!

Our trails took us to Primark (like a Winners without the good stuff) where I found a little inappropriate but cost-efficient souvenir for Ernest. (I know you can't wait for it, Ernest).
Then I couldn't sleep.
In the hotel room, I saw a bathrobe drop by itself. Then the TV turned itself on again. And then an hour, it happened again.
My superstitious reflex automatically concluded: Ghosts.
Where was my goddamn eight-sided mirror when I needed it most?
So at 3:22 a.m. when I heard what sounded like gunfire or fireworks -- continuous pop-pop-pops -- I freaked out. And couldn't get back to sleep until 5 a.m.
I Googled, "Why does my TV turn itself on" and reasoned it was something to do with a power surge, that the hotel system means TVs are never truly off, but on stand-by.
Next morning, the power was out at the place, apparently it was also out next door. Something about the grid.
Yep, felt like a loser being so scared of ghosts.
Mike said, "Weird you're not religious but believe in ghosts."
"I believe in horror movies! That's my religion!"
Colder and windier that day. We passed by a Banksy piece and some old-timey pubs that were tiled on the outside like NYC or London subway stations.
Our final meal was at Riddle & Finns, where we saw national celebrity Pudsey the Bear collecting money for children in need right outside the door.
It's a cutesy yellow bear with a rainbow polka-dot bandage over his eye. Of course, a photo was required.

Pudsey

Had a lovely Dover sole with duck fat potatoes and green beans. So simple, so good. It was definitely one of my favourite meals so far in the U.K.

Dover sole

Dover bones

Brighton is a mix of university town and hipness. It's the Portlandia of London. But lots of great little vintage shops in the Lanes, a cinema with legs coming out from the roof and overall pretty nice people.
Would definitely come back.
Brighton lights, smaller city.

Alf!

The Colonnade, an old-timey bar

The Lanes