Around The World 2011 Day 32: London, Day Tripping to Brighton

I absolutely could not help myself.  The title of this day's post pleases me to no end.  You see. we planned several weeks ago that today, the middle day of our three days in London, would be spent taking the train down to Brighton to visit our friends Ian and Tracy for the day.  More properly, the Buckeridges.  Just their having the last name Buckeridge makes them the most delightfully English people we know.

We met Ian and Tracy during the SeaDream cruise portions of Barbie's 50th Birthday Eurotour and we all liked each other so much that we managed to keep in touch for two years.  This does not happen everyday, people.  When we asked them about coming up to London to see us, Ian suggested we go down to Brighton to meet them.  Since we had never been to Brighton, and this is visit eight to London for Barbie, taking a one hour train ride South to visit dear friends and see a different part of England struck us as a brilliant idea.

And just now, as I prepared to write this Waste for YOU, I looked at Wikipedia and read that Brighton is a top destination for day-trippers from London, well, you can imagine my reaction.  Yesterday I saw how many holes it would take to fill the Albert Hall; today I am officially a Day Tripper.

Morning from the Four Season's top floor lounge.  A far better place to get coffee and a croissant than the Starbucks.

He hopped into a taxi headed to Victoria Station.  We could have walked or taken the tube, but sometimes you want the door-to-door-ness of a taxi.  The official taxis of London are spacious and roomy.  NYC has made a similar decision, approving Nissan and Ford models that will soon be the official taxis of NYC.

London Victoria Station Candid.  July 2011.  I know I have not done as many candids as you usually prefer.  My apologies.

Sure, this is candid, but how could you not want to see the colors of these prom-bridesmaid-puzzling dresses?

London Victoria Station Candid.  July, 2011.  I was going to trash this one, until I saw that the gentleman in the lower-right corner has his ticket in his mouth.  This triggers a happy memory for me.  When I would go to lunch with my grandmother once per week, on days too hot to walk I would drive her to the Beverly Center, and every time I took the parking ticket from the machine I would instinctively lace it between my lips, and my grandmother would huff, "Don't put that there," and pull it from my mouth and place it in my car's center console.  This moment was repeated dozens of times, and thinking of it warms my heart.

Barbie on the train.

First class, baby.  Let us imagine you wore open toed sandals on the train.  Let us imagine that the train car is air conditioned to near freezing conditions.  What do you do?

If you are Barbie, you slip on cozy footies that make your feet delightfully warm.  Yet another reason you should be more like Barbie.

How lovely does this English neighborhood look?  Yes, this is England.  Real England.  Which means I best call this a neighbourhood.

Brighton Station.  At the end of this walk Ian and Tracy stood.  There is nothing better than being welcomed at the station.  I sincerely regret not being a dork and taking their picture before the hello hugs.

Brighton Station Candid.  July, 2011.

Soon the Buckeridges were leading the way through town.  We have no idea what lies ahead, but we know we are in good hands.

Zoom in and you will see the seaside.

Same shot as above, but using the a crop is a zoom technique.  See the sea.

I am using the term sea to mean a body of water, but technically that is the English Channel, which is technically an arm of the Atlantic Ocean.  But see the ocean or see the channel lacks the lyrical delight of see the sea.

We turned down a street and saw this... this... mass of humanity.  Brighton is as vibrant as any city.  Besides being a destination for day-trippers, it has a thriving local population as well as a significant LGBT community.  In fact, Brighton is often called, "the gay capital of Britain."  And anyone who knows anything about real estate knows one thing; when the gays move in, the neighborhood flourishes and property values go up up up.  Good for Brighton.

Ian pointed out a shop (that I shall not name) where he knows the owner to be a bigot, but the bigot flies a rainbow flag over his shop door anyway because business is far more important than one's personal prejudices.

Now that is not something you expect to see in a British seaside town.  The  Royal Pavilion of Brighton is not just another palace built by the British monarchs.  Well, it is, but they designed it took like it could be in India.  In fact, the designers had never left England and based all their designs from paintings, sketches, and stories of one of Great Britain's most important colonies.

I quite like how this picture of the Pavilion turned into a candid of Barbie and Tracy, two of my most favorite ladies.

For lunch, Ian picked out a place that is very, very English.  Which is Brilliant, because we are here to experience a side of England that we do not get in London.  Can you read the name of the restaurant at the upper left?  Allow me to assist you. 

English's.  There.  Now that is English.  We will be enjoying English seafood at an English restaurant on the coast of the English Channel.

Cheerio-pip-pip.  Smiles all!  What can I say?  When you are in good company, you smile a lot.

We toasted to Ian's recent birthday.  Lucky for us, he used his birthday as an excuse for us to go through two bottles of champagne.

I started with the crab soup, that Barbie and I shared.

I got the grilled sea bream, on chard with fried calamari.  It was excellent.

Barbie got the fish and chips.  Also excellent.

We skipped dessert, figuring that we would walk around Brighton a bit to earn dessert. 

The ocean is at the end of that street.  Soon you will see Englands southern coast.

Voilá.  Englands southern coast is, as one might have predicted, delightful.  No wonder Londoners take day trips to this place.  (You should probably count the number of times you see Ian's hat in my photographs.)

Brighton Pier, or Palace Pier depending upon whom you ask.  It features a fairgrounds and reminded me very much of Santa Monica Pier back home.

Let us say that you have an idea in your head what England looks like.  Perhaps I am wrong, but you did not picture this.

Strolling along Brighton's oceanfront.

Many people come here to get married, and take oceanside pictures for their wedding albums. Every bride thinks this is a good idea, until the wind makes a mess of her hair and sand gets in her shoes.

This is not a sign you would see in the USA.  And no, I did not sample a jelllied eel.

Probably the best t-shirt ever used for a business.  I work here.

We were about to walk away from the ocean, and I had to take just one more picture.

Wait!  One more still.

France is THERE.

Besides being a place where many people come for their weddings, there are many bachelor and bachelorette  parties here.  Of course, here they call them stag parties for the men and hen parties for the women.  As usual, the British terminology has more panache.

We came to a store with the absolutely brilliant name Choccywoccy boudoir.

Tracy, Barbie, and Ian at Choccywoccy.  I am getting better about asking people to pose for photos, am I not?

Prepare yourself.  You are about to see the BEST wedding cake ever created.

Bam!  Feast on that.  Til death do us part with a near life-size skull and roses, all made of chocolate.  You cannot top that.  Do not try.  We asked, and they do not ship them.  If you are getting married in the USA, what you should do is take this picture to your local bakery and challenge them to recreate this.  I guarantee that any marriage consummated with the above cake will last until someone dies.

Young Spanish women asked us for directions, and Ian explained that they needed to go around the Royal Pavilion with a few right turns.  I forget exactly what he said immediately after, but it was akin to, "I give them a one in five shot."

We came back to the Royal Pavilion, and took the tour.  It was fascinating, but photography was not allowed.  Allow me to summarize.  While he was still Prince of Whales, Brighton and this place in particular became a favorite home of King George IV.  Starting in 1787, he began expanding the building, and soon it had become this fashionable place that was, oddly, Indian on the outside and Chinese on the inside.  Not authentic, but let us call it an interpretation of the architecture and design of those cultures.

His father King George III (The Mad King) suffered from mental illness, later diagnosed as the blood disease porphyria.  Besides being known at The Mad King, King George is affectionately known as, "The King who lost America."  Truthfully, it was not his fault.  The American British colonies were going to break away, but it happened on George III's watch, and you know how important timing is in history.

King George III's madness became such an issue that off and on starting in 1788 his son had to take over and rule as Prince Regent until his father died, at which time the Prince of Wales became King of Great Britain.  While Prince Regent and then King, George IV has even more money at his disposal to make his Royal Pavilion in Brighton a pleasure palace.

It is a good an interesting tour, and I do recommend it, even though they do not allow pictures.  All the the faux Chinese elements blur the line between classy and tacky, which is not something you see every day.

My feet have been to the Royal Pavilion in Brighton.  (Artistic Director: Tracy Buckeridge; who suggested this photograph.)

We have walked enough.  Time for a treat.

Ian led us down Little East Street.

As you can see, it is quite little.

See the sign to the right?  We came to Scoop & Crumb.

All the ice cream was fresh and delicious.   As you can see, Barbie was pleased, and after all her gelato tastings in Italy she is no easy ice cream customer.

No way in heck would I not stop and take a picture of this Obama-esque, "Sheee Eeeeit," poster, even though I have no idea what it is for or about.

Yes.  Jew Street.  Look at Barbie's delight.  No further commentary needed.

Crazy enough, our five and a half hours between train rides was over.  We needed to head back to London.  A shame, really.  Next time we have to spend more time with Ian and Tracy, and more time in Southern England.  I am personally very excited to one day see where they live, a genuine English village like we see in all the charming British movies.

Back to Brighton Station.

We were in a hurry to make our train and hugged a quick and bittersweet good-bye to Ian and Tracy.  I would have loved a last photograph, but it was a bit of a scramble.

You can think of this as just a photograph inside a train's water closet.  Or you can think of it as art.  Either way is fine with me.

For fans (or former fans) of Pink Floyd, this factory shot will be of particular significance.  For the rest of you, well, move along.

Leaving London Victoria Station.

Soon enough we were resting in our room for a short time, and then we had guests for dinner!  Barbie's sister Carol and her fianceé David arrived, and then Josh.  Barbie and I had talked to the concierge and selected a nearby Japanese restaurant.

The sisters in London, together in this city for the third time.

The restaurant, Kiku, is just around the corner from the Japanese Embassy.  When we entered, I saw that nearly every patron was Japanese.  This food is going to be good.

Super Lucky Cat!  And he drinks beer!

We started with some seaweed.  Algae is good.

Miso soup.

Our main courses.

Lemon sorbet for dessert.  Exceptionally good.  I would definitely recommend Kiku to anyone visiting London.  And it may be inspiring a new restaurant theory, which is to eat at ethnic restaurants located very close to their own embassies.

We went over to Carol and David's hotel, the Sofitel, because Barbie needed to try on the Bridesmaid dress that Carol brought for her.  By pure kismet, Carol told Barbie that she was going to get married in Scotland, Barbie told Carol we were going to be in Scotland, and then the dates were adjusted so that we could attend.  Barbie gets to be a bridesmaid again!

The Sofitel sent their regards to the happy couple.

After that, we headed back to or hotel, very ready to sleep.

The Four Seasons London at Park Lane is a very classy, beautifully designed hotel.  But it is also a bit dark, and I cannot get any satisfactory pictures for you.  Tonight, I settle for this shot of the red piano.  Near the bar and restaurant.

Until tomorrow.