Brighton Beach Memoirs, Day 1

I've been wanting to use this title since we decided to travel to Brighton Beach, UK. The Brighton Beach in the semi-autobiographical play Neil Simon play "Brighton Beach Memoirs" refers to a section of New York City between Coney Island and Manhattan Beach. I have not knowingly been there.

In my case, it is a beachside town in the United Kingdom. This post is a mostly-autobiographical story about our stay. I was too busy enjoying myself, and visiting with Cuz to take notes each day. Instead I wrote them out on the Gatwick Express train using the pictures I took as reminders.

On our first evening we walked down towards the water. A few days before we arrived, Brighton and Hove were struck by Storm Goretti blowing large pebbles up to the promenade, even pushing benches up to the wall, and depositing bags of onions and other materials from shipping containers that were lost at sea last year. Days later we saw onions as we walked towards The Reading Room.

Each day we noticed the promenade was returning to normalcy. I hope to return someday in warmer weather when it will be covered with people, including buskers. In January, especially on a rainy night, we had the path to ourselves, which was also nice.

Back to my notes: our flight to Heathrow on United was one-third full. As we boarded, our flight attendant encouraged everyone to take a row for themselves. United has about six flights a day from Newark to Heathrow. When I booked, each flight was the same price, no matter the day or the time time of day. Ours was the last flight of the day. I don't know if overseas travel is down, or if we just got lucky. Our plane was even switched to a smaller one and still we could each straighten out. I'm not going to lie, I felt spoiled not being crushed. Even our flight home was about two-thirds full, which gave Don and I three seats together. As it was a daytime flight, I didn't feel the need to lie down, but it was nice to stretch out a little.

On the flight I watched "Eleanor the Great" and "A Big Bold Beautiful Journey." I'm noting the titles because I enjoyed them both and would recommend them to anyone reading this post. The latter involves renting a 1994 Saturn and being able to go back in time to see the past with a difference lens. Maybe I'm not explaining it well, but as someone who owned a 1992 Saturn SC, I enjoyed the trip back in time even though the movie was set in the present. Don watched "Good Night and Good Luck," a play we saw on CNN a few months ago with Ron and Noemi.

We sailed through security, beating our driver to the waiting area. He took us to our waiting family. It was great catching up with them. They treated us like visiting royalty. Thank you.

Our hotel was steps away from the train station, which was welcome on our last
day when we headed to London. It overlooked the famous shopping area called North Laine, beyond that we could see the water. We even had seagulls greet us. The blue sky was welcome.

The hotel gave us the option of having our room serviced, or being eco-friendly and skipping this service. I've stayed in hotels that say "leave your towel on the rack and we won't change it," then they change it because they are there. In this case, they actually did what they said, or rather didn't do. Suited our needs to have privacy.

After sleeping in we wandered around Brighton looking for breakfast. I read a statistic that Brighton has more cafes per capita than any other place in the United Kingdom. I love being in a town that has many options for food within walking distance. Where we live there are a few expensive restaurants about a mile from our house, walking around Brighton showed me the type of life I want to have everyday and not just on vacation.

We chose The Black Fig. It was fairly quiet, with a few locals finishing up their breakfast. After watching the server photograph Don's stack of blueberry pancakes (which is on their Instagram page), she explained they just opened and are still creating content. I loved them a little bit more for having the courage to open a new business in a city flooded with similar businesses. I wish them much success.

My notebook is visible in this picture. I used their free Wifi to regroup and figure out a plan for the day. After the relaxing lunch I listed three things I wanted us to do that day, only two of which happened. 

1) See the Banksy in person

2) Take the Madeira Lift

3) Ride the i360

We also planned to meet up with Cuz.

The Banksy is really a replica. The original was sold. The first time I saw a Banksy in person was in Bethlehem in the West Bank. It is of a dove with an olive branch in its mouth wearing a military uniform. 

Very fitting for the location.

By contrast, the Banksy in Brighton is the Kissing Cops. Also very appropriate for the location.

Brighton is brightly covered in street art. As we continued our weaving towards the water, we noticed GlimmerTwin32 painting on the side of a building. We struck up a conversation with him. I'm guessing he is about our age. He said he loves Brighton, it has everything including the naturist beach. A naturist beach is what us Americans call a nude beach, not a beach that has been given back to nature and filled with wildlife, unless you consider people sunbathing au natural to be back to nature. I complimented him on wearing an air mask as he used spray paints. He said he didn't do that when he was younger and hopes he didn't cause too much damage to his lungs. We stopped by the next two days to see his progress. On our third and final day in Brighton he said the rain smeared the art more than he wanted. I said it looks like the person was crying. A fitting look for these days. He told us about Leake Street in London, a tunnel under Waterloo Station that is filled with graffiti. He planned to be there later in the week. We made it a point to look for him and his art.

Overall I found it easy to talk to strangers. The British were curious about what is happening in our country, and free to share their opinions about what is happening. To put this in historical context, this was the week #45/47 was threatening to forcibly take Greenland, and NATO was responding by saying they would cut off American access to European countries and essentially strand any US citizens wherever they were as air traffic between our countries would cease. This is the first time I have ever been afraid I might not be able to return home. My head was spinning with alternatives rather than relaxing into being overseas.

We finally made it to the coast. The beach is covered in pebbles, making walking on it very uncomfortable. We passed the Rock Grotto, something Atlas Obscura gave me the impression was much more impressive than it seemed to be in person, or else I was reading into the description what I wanted. It is a fenced in area of rock sculptures. The fence made it a challenge to photograph, and impossible to touch. It is a collection of quirky street art.

Walking on the rocky surface we saw a row of sheds, in it was a man sitting down, covered in blankets, sipping coffee, and reading a newspaper. In other words living his best life. We asked if we could take his picture. He said yes, we were not the first people to ask. I'm a bit jealous of his man cave, a restful get away from home.

We returned the the promenade, admiring the view, wistfully watching people run and cycle knowing the temperatures back home were sub-

freezing and we did not pack our sneakers. Finally we made it to our self-identified turn around point: the naturalist beach. It was a little chilly for sane people to walk around in their bathing suits. I did strip off my shoes and socks and dip my toes in the water. The English Channel is surprisingly warmer than I would have expected. Not warm enough for me to go for a dip, but warm enough I did not recoil. 

We paused for lunch at The Reading Room before making our return trip. On the wall of this famous respite is a sign telling readers behind the restaurant is a tunnel leading to a private park. Lewis Carroll was inspired to create Alice in Wonderland's White Rabbit after seeing this tunnel. We spent much time walking around the walled park trying to find Alice and her friends. In reality, it just looked like any other park in Brighton that is surrounded by Regency-style homes. The tunnel had a locked gate, though we saw someone leaving she did not invite us to enter this inner sanctum. I can't say that I blame her.

The walk back was quicker. We paused at the Madeiri Terrace and it's Victorian-era lift to see the website's "temporarily closed" notice was typical British understatement. It has been closed for several years and is part of a larger restoration of the beachfront arcades. I spoke with a local who said in the 1980s the area was falling apart, and not the gentrified scene of today. The arches near the lift are part of plans for its future. We saw what looks like a new lift being built only a few feet from the original one.

The arcade is visible behind the Rock Grotto

We walked out on the Brighton Palace Pier, at least as far as we could walk on that midweek January afternoon. We could walk up to the restaurant, but not through the rides. On the other hand, there was no charge to stroll there unlike during the summer when the kiosks are open and tickets are sold. The whole area reminded us of the Jersey Shore. When I visit places I have a tendency to compare it to something familiar. We are more alike than we are different.

The weather was starting to turn. We felt a few raindrops, nothing nearly as bad as we had expected. I saw shops starting to shut down for the day. We made the executive decision to have ice cream. Family later commented how British of us to eat ice cream at the beach in a cold rainstorm. The shop boasted they are the best on the Brighton Beach. I suspect that means more when other shops are open. Our scooper said he was planning to be closed the next day because of the anticipated rainstorm. I felt even luckier in that moment to have enjoyed a sunny day at the beach, even if it was a little chilly.

After ice cream we were dismayed to learn the i360 was closed for its annual cleaning. It is a good time of year to do that.

We met up with family for another evening of visiting and relaxing.