I am supposed to be in First Class in Great Western is again an excellent travelling experience, although part of the coach has had to be ‘declassified’ as there’s one standard class coach missing and people less fortunate than I are standing.
At Westbury, there’s a mad scramble to make the connection to Southampton and I have to bump my Live Luggage bag up and down two flights of stairs. With its big wheels and sturdy back plate, it’s so far coped with the journey pretty well. In the event, the train is held for a few minutes to let us all scramble on board.
As with all of the smaller lines on which I have travelled, it’s only standard class, but I manage to get a seat at a table, my preferred option.
There’s a disappointing amount of coast to be seen between Southampton and Brighton , with houses and other buildings constantly getting in the way. Having travelled with Southwest Trains from Westbury, I am now on Southern Railways. They have a small First Class section but, somewhat bizarrely, there’s no door and, apart from white headrest covers, I see no difference from the adjacent standard coach.
Brighton Tourist Office (www.visitbrighton.com) has scurried around at short notice to fit me in, after I had to pull the plugs on Weymouth
Phil and Louise are in their fourth season of running their tiny, five bedroom, guest house and have clearly spent a great deal of time and money on improvements. What they lack in space is more than made up by the warmth of their welcome and their ‘can do’ attitude. (My English mustard at breakfast was changed from Waitrose brand to Colman’s of Norwich
My first impressions of the town are not good. It’s pretty run down and dirty. There are little huddled groups of folk from foreign lands everywhere and, even in daytime, I don’t feel especially safe. It’s the weekend and clearly Brighton is living up to its’ reputation as a party town. Packs of alcohol-fuelled young men and women roam the streets on stag and hen parties. I don’t find it a pleasant experience, but that may be simply because I am there on my own.
The burnt out remains of the west pier are very close to my accommodation, although there’s still no sign of any construction work on the i360 observation tower, on which work was originally due to have started in 2007. In the current economic climate, don’t hold your breath. Nearby, the splendid old Victorian bandstand has been lovingly restored by the local council, but it’s surrounded by much evidence of neglect and near dereliction.
I enjoy the Royal Pavilion, which Queen Victoria sold to the council. But it’s yet another attraction inside which photography is banned. It’s ludicrous. Will more people buy souvenir guide books because they can’t take picture? Not this one, for sure.
While the banqueting hall under its massive dome is impressive, I am much taken by the music room, beautifully restored after an arson attack and, just as that restoration was nearing completion, the building was badly damaged in the Michael Fish hurricane.
Brighton Pier is longer than I had imagined and nice for a stroll, although it’s just a funfair with music that is far too loud, with associated sideshows.
The Sea Life Centre in the old aquarium is both expensive and disappointing.
I had hoped to go to the Toy and Model museum, but it’s closed on Sundays and Mondays.
Reflecting Brighton ’s multicultural diversity, I see in a park, the aftermath of a gay wedding and visit a branch of Taj Grocers, with an amazing array of world foods.
To end my visit, the town band is performing on the bandstand and the Volks Electric Railway is still clattering up and down the prom.
And engineering work means that buses have replaced the train to Lewes. Oh joy.
No comments:
Post a Comment