Brighton Rocks

CANARY WHARF: So as some of you may or may not know, I scarffed off the last half of last week visiting my friend Robyn and her fiance in Brighton. After jumping on the first train out of town on Wednesday afternoon it was all fun in the sun until the first bus back to London on Sunday morning. (Financial constraints make it too expensive to catch the train both ways!)

Luckily I timed my visit to coincide with the opening of the Brighton Festival. Very, very dumb luck! But it was amazing. I spent most of my time wandering through The Lanes popping in and out of trendy little boutiques and funky record stores, visiting gourmet cookie shops and drinking coffees. And all through The Lanes were an array of street performers including opera singers, astronauts, samba bands, jockeys on stilts, a couple aiming for a world record apathy attempt and innumerable others.

Asides from wandering through The Lanes I spent a fair bit of time lounging about watching chavs on the pier, drinking in the beach front bars (I had three days of delicious sun) and walking across the pebbled beach. I also visited the museum and lay on the grass in front of the Pavillion which is this gorgeous building built in an approximation of the onion domed style of Russian Orthodox churches which, against the backdrop of the sea and Brighton's narrow hilly SF-style streets, looks absolutely charming.

Then I was going to head home on the Saturday to take in the FA Cup final and the London nightlife but Robs and Eliot persuaded me to stay to watch the fireworks in Preston Park. The fireworks display turned out to be an extravaganza with flying firemen, huge clouds of smoke, regular old fireworks and about 70,000 (according to The Brighton Argus) spectators.