Brighton Rocks: Soaking Up That Vitamin Sea
Brighton Rocks: Soaking Up That Vitamin Sea is the first of A Brummie Home and Abroad’s South East Road Trip Travel Diaries. To follow: adventures in Rye and Whitstable!
Naturally, after a week of soaring temperatures, the weather turns as we prepare to embark on our South East road trip. Optimistically, I still pack all my summer clothes. After all, it is June. UK summertime. Less optimistically, I throw in a jumper and a waterproof at the last minute. After all, it is June. UK summertime.
I’ve posted before about how to pack for a UK minibreak. I followed my own advice.
Brighton was high on my list of UK places to visit. With international travel off the cards in 2021, this was the perfect opportunity to tick it off the list. We load up the car and head down the M40/M25/M23 to Sussex. Our hotel host calls to tell us he’s off out for a Fathers Day meal so will leave the key in our room and texts me the door code. In these COVID-cautious times a contactless check in is quite welcome.
Where we stayed
Snooze Hotel Brighton is located in Kemptown, an arty area a 15 minute stroll from Brighton proper. There’s on-street metered parking in Sutherland Street which is £6.50 a day; it’s just a five minute walk from Snooze. Of course, we’ve brought everything but the kitchen sink with us so we’re laden up like packhorses.
The hotel has won awards for its quirkiness, which is of course what drew me to it. Vintage soul album covers line the walls of the staircase. We’re greeted by a large orange papier-mâché fish as we open the front door.
Our room, no 6, is like stepping into an aubergine coloured womb. There are migraine-inducing swirls on the ceiling, low lighting and classic wall art. Like Wings Of Love, immortalised in Abigail’s Party. And also immortalised in every house of the Lee family in the 80s.
A sunny afternoon in Brighton
After dark clouds loomed all the way from Brum, the sun has finally come out. In a fit of optimism I thrown on a pair of shorts and we head out to discover what Brighton can offer.
It’s my first peek at Brighton’s seafront, and it’s everything I imagined. The arches, the pier, the wide promenade – I’ve seen these things so many times on tv and in photos that I get a crushing sense of de ja vu.
Live music is being performed on the al fresco terraces of bars, and we’re soon nursing our first drink of the holiday. We spend the late afternoon soaking up the sights, sounds and smells of the seaside. I’ve booked a table at Shelter Hall for an early dinner – in this beautiful sunshine I’m happy I had the foresight to take a gamble on an outside table.
As is the norm these days, we order our food and drink via app. Mr Fletche opts for the Malaysian Fried Chicken combo from Santan Boi. Overwhelmed by being at the seaside, it’s a crustacean-style cuisine for me with crab-loaded fries from The Crab Shack. From our table on the edge of the terrace we’re able to people watch and chat whilst still listening to the chilled out live music.
Whilst everything is vibrant and lively on the afternoon, we find it’s quite the different story when we head back out a couple of hours later. We’ve returned to the hotel to change out of our summer garb because, well, it’s UK summertime. Chilly evenings tend to follow warm days. By the time we’ve strolled back along the seafront, the pier has shut up for the night and there’s a disappointing lack of action. It’s barely 9pm; I expected more of a “city that never sleeps” vibe from Brighton. Still, we have a full day to explore tomorrow so we return to the aubergine womb.
What to do on a not-so-sunny day in Brighton
The black-out curtains give me hope that when we throw them open in the morning, the sunshine will flood in. Unfortunately the weather apps are right, and I am wrong. I look longingly at those summer clothes before pulling out a jumper and jeans. The last minute addition of a waterproof now seems like an excellent idea. Still, we’re English and we’re on holiday. The show must go on.
We leave the seafront behind this morning – the beauty of Brighton is that it’s a city break and seaside destination all in one. Our hotel is based in Kemptown, and we stroll along St James Street admiring the Regency architecture. Actually, we’re just looking for somewhere to shelter from the rain and grab a coffee and a pastry for breakfast. Wolfox Avenue provides the perfect stop-off. Lots of bleached wood, brickwork and leafy displays, it’s a wrench to haul ourselves back into the damp and drizzle.
We’re determined to carry on our sightseeing though. And who can visit Brighton without popping by to see the iconic Royal Pavilion? Built as a seaside pleasure palace for King George IV, this is a stunner of a building, with its domes and towers piercing the clouds above. My photo-taking is hampered by trying to juggle a camera and an umbrella at the same time. It probably would have been the perfect weather to take a tour inside, but instead we carry on in pursuit of more Brighton icons.
Birmingham has it’s fair share of street art – we even have a Banksy dont you know? – and I love to seek out incredible urban creatives on our travels. So we weave our way around North Laine, spotting brightly coloured shop frontages until we come across the Prince Albert pub. It has an enormous mural tribute of dearly departed musicians, and yes, Brighton has a Banksy too (although the controversial “Kissing Coppers” isn’t the original). Trafalgar Lane may look like an ordinary alleyway between two main streets but it has an incredible array of ever-changing work. Even in the drizzle and gloom we enjoy the vibrant colours.
As much as we wanted to enjoy exploring the bohemian boutiques. niche stores and flea markets, a combination of rain, glasses and a face-mask doesn’t make for an altogether fun shopping experience. There’s only one thing for it. Pub. We dive inside The Market Inn for a swift half, hoping that the rain may stop whilst we’re inside. Emerging outside half an hour later, we quickly realise we should have made that swift half a slow and leisurely one. It is torrential. Sight-seeing is impossible. Not only is the rain of biblical proportions, it’s blowing a gale-force wind too, rendering an umbrella completely useless. British summertime, eh?
We head back to Kemptown; a stroll which sees us soaked through to the skin. My only truly comfortable pair of shoes are now a soggy mess. The Thomas Kemp is near our hotel so after a quick change of clothes we seek shelter in yet another pub, this time for a late lunch. With temperatures plummeting and the rain showing no sign of stopping we make the sensible decision to spend a couple of hours chilling in the aubergine womb.
A slight improvement in the weather
I’m not quite willing to let go of my waterproof jacket just yet, but there’s a definite break in the clouds. Not enough to be described as sunshine, but enough for us to return to the seafront. The hustle and bustle of the previous day is nowhere to be seen. Beachside bars are tentatively removing covers from tables and chairs, and using sticks to remove puddles of water from awnings. The pier is open for business, and we’re lured in by the gaudy blinking neon lights. There’s no action on the charmingly retro fairground though, with waltzers and dodgems lying sadly dormant under the watchful eye of a carousel horse or two.
We continue our walk. And we walk. And we walk. We do pause for a while to sit on the shelving shingled beach and gaze out at the decrepit iron shell of the West Pier. To be honest, there’s not much less going on there than on the Palace Pier. The outside terrace of Shelter Hall is deserted; just 24 hours earlier you would have struggled to get a table without prior reservation. We continue to walk. My second most comfortable pair of shoes is not quite as comfortable as I remembered. I grit my teeth and make a mental note to pick up more plasters at the next opportunity. (Those who are regular readers will know that a trip to the local chemist to pick up more plasters is a regular feature of our travels. I’ve purchased plasters in numerous cities and countries around the world).
We walk all the way to Hove before deciding we really should start to head back as it’s getting on for 9pm. Again, we’re surprised at how quiet it is. Maybe a combination of the bad weather and a lack of tourists thanks to COVID-19 restrictions have struck the resort hard. Maybe this is normal on a Monday. We weave our way back through the city streets before emerging back out onto the seafront. We plan to call it a night but not before nursing an ice cold beer – with chattering teeth and shivering fingers – at the Bison Beer Beach Bar.
There’s no doubt that we didn’t see the best of the seaside city, although we had a wonderful glimpse on our first afternoon. Mixing painfully cool, family tradition and a welcoming diverse spirit, I can see why Brighton captures the hearts of many. We definitely plan to return soon. Although you never can trust that British summertime weather…
I’ve never been to Brighton. Such a shame the weather didn’t hold. Still sounds like you had a good time though!
Absolutely loved reading this article so funny and extremely detailed information
Can’t wait to follow more