We went to Brighton Beach on Saturday, which is about 50 miles away from London and it takes about an hour-and-a-half to get there.
Brighton Beach is London's version of Wisconsin Dells or Coney Island. It's somewhere you can spend the day (or a few days), take the kids, hang out on the beach and eat things you would not normally allow yourself (cotton candy, which is called candy floss here, ice cream cones, doughnuts, fish and chips, etc.).
The 'beach' is the English Channel, which, while it's not technically the ocean, is close enough to suffice, although I'm not sure I'd want to swim in it. A few minutes walk away from the beach are the lanes, which is the only portion of old Brighton Beach that really remains. Initially, Brighton was just a small fishing village, and while the lanes is now a rather cramped and twisty quarter full of small and rather cute shops (expensive shops, mind you. Loads of jewelry stores. If you want to blow some serious cash, it's definitely possible in the lanes), it is really the only portion of Brighton that remains close to what it originally was before Brighton became fashionable.
Brighton became fashionable precisely because it was unfashionable. If this paradox doesn't quite make sense to you, allow me to explain. Brighton Beach was the hide-out of a party boy prince, Prince George, who took up residence there when he was only 21. He chose Brighton because, unlike Bath, where the high and mighty went to take the waters for their health, Brighton was as yet unknown, and as a result, no one knew him there, and he could party to his heart's content.
So Prince George, who would eventually become King George IV, shacked up in a little farmhouse (a pleasing show of frugality from a prince who'd already racked up some hefty debt in London) with his mistress. His mistress was a Catholic widow, which made her doubly inappropriate. Marrying a Catholic was as yet illegal (it actually remained illegal until relatively recently and the royals still can't marry Catholics without having to renounce their claim to the throne) and being a Catholic widow made it ever so much worse. He never could've gotten away with parading the lovely lady around in London, but Brighton Beach was just far enough to prevent the problems of indiscretion.
Brighton became popular as a result of George's residence there, and when it became so, the ramshackle old house were replaced by lovely Victorian-looking big white houses, where the rich and powerful lived. The square where the fishermen used to mend their nets and skin their fish became a lovely little park, and still is to this day.
When Georgie became Regent, not king, but rather ruling in his father's stead, as his father (George III) had been declared insane, he finally had enough power (as well as an unlimited purse) to build his dream palace in Brighton. And so he changed his farmhouse into his Royal Pavillion. The architecture is Indian on the outside (basically what a poor man's version of the Taj Mahal would look like), while the inside is 'Chinese.' I put this in quotes, because it's very much what a British dude who's never been to China would think is Chinese. It's quite pretty but it's also ... quite overdone. There's guilding and bright reds and dragons everywhere, and while it's really interesting in some ways, most of his interiors, the fancier ones anyway, hit you like a hammer. I guess it just goes to show that even royals have bad taste sometimes. We weren't allowed to take pictures inside the royal pavillion, so you're just going to have to take my word for it.
The young Queen Victoria, George's cousin, stayed in the Pavillion for a while, and was quite astounded at the "Strange, Chinese" decor. Apparently, she hadn't seen anything like it. She was less than impressed with the view from her window, because she couldn't see the sea, which is, I suppose the point of a seaside palace. It's quite near the water, about a five minute walk, but you really can't see the water from it. After Victoria inherited the throne, she deemed it somewhat less than acceptable as a royal residence, although I don't think she really had that big of a problem with the decor. The primary issue was that she, Prince Albert and their nine children would have scarcely been able to fit into such a small building, much less live there comfortably. So they sold it to the Town of Brighton, and all of the furnishings within the pavillion currently are on loan from the Royal Family.
This is the archway that leads into the garden area surrounding the Palace. You can see bits of palace in the background.
Dmitry, this is for you.
Brighton Beach is London's version of Wisconsin Dells or Coney Island. It's somewhere you can spend the day (or a few days), take the kids, hang out on the beach and eat things you would not normally allow yourself (cotton candy, which is called candy floss here, ice cream cones, doughnuts, fish and chips, etc.).
The 'beach' is the English Channel, which, while it's not technically the ocean, is close enough to suffice, although I'm not sure I'd want to swim in it. A few minutes walk away from the beach are the lanes, which is the only portion of old Brighton Beach that really remains. Initially, Brighton was just a small fishing village, and while the lanes is now a rather cramped and twisty quarter full of small and rather cute shops (expensive shops, mind you. Loads of jewelry stores. If you want to blow some serious cash, it's definitely possible in the lanes), it is really the only portion of Brighton that remains close to what it originally was before Brighton became fashionable.
Brighton became fashionable precisely because it was unfashionable. If this paradox doesn't quite make sense to you, allow me to explain. Brighton Beach was the hide-out of a party boy prince, Prince George, who took up residence there when he was only 21. He chose Brighton because, unlike Bath, where the high and mighty went to take the waters for their health, Brighton was as yet unknown, and as a result, no one knew him there, and he could party to his heart's content.
So Prince George, who would eventually become King George IV, shacked up in a little farmhouse (a pleasing show of frugality from a prince who'd already racked up some hefty debt in London) with his mistress. His mistress was a Catholic widow, which made her doubly inappropriate. Marrying a Catholic was as yet illegal (it actually remained illegal until relatively recently and the royals still can't marry Catholics without having to renounce their claim to the throne) and being a Catholic widow made it ever so much worse. He never could've gotten away with parading the lovely lady around in London, but Brighton Beach was just far enough to prevent the problems of indiscretion.
Brighton became popular as a result of George's residence there, and when it became so, the ramshackle old house were replaced by lovely Victorian-looking big white houses, where the rich and powerful lived. The square where the fishermen used to mend their nets and skin their fish became a lovely little park, and still is to this day.
When Georgie became Regent, not king, but rather ruling in his father's stead, as his father (George III) had been declared insane, he finally had enough power (as well as an unlimited purse) to build his dream palace in Brighton. And so he changed his farmhouse into his Royal Pavillion. The architecture is Indian on the outside (basically what a poor man's version of the Taj Mahal would look like), while the inside is 'Chinese.' I put this in quotes, because it's very much what a British dude who's never been to China would think is Chinese. It's quite pretty but it's also ... quite overdone. There's guilding and bright reds and dragons everywhere, and while it's really interesting in some ways, most of his interiors, the fancier ones anyway, hit you like a hammer. I guess it just goes to show that even royals have bad taste sometimes. We weren't allowed to take pictures inside the royal pavillion, so you're just going to have to take my word for it.
The young Queen Victoria, George's cousin, stayed in the Pavillion for a while, and was quite astounded at the "Strange, Chinese" decor. Apparently, she hadn't seen anything like it. She was less than impressed with the view from her window, because she couldn't see the sea, which is, I suppose the point of a seaside palace. It's quite near the water, about a five minute walk, but you really can't see the water from it. After Victoria inherited the throne, she deemed it somewhat less than acceptable as a royal residence, although I don't think she really had that big of a problem with the decor. The primary issue was that she, Prince Albert and their nine children would have scarcely been able to fit into such a small building, much less live there comfortably. So they sold it to the Town of Brighton, and all of the furnishings within the pavillion currently are on loan from the Royal Family.
This is the archway that leads into the garden area surrounding the Palace. You can see bits of palace in the background.
Dmitry, this is for you.This photo was actually taken on the pier, which has a few fast food restaurants (fish and chips, doughnuts, ice cream, etc.) and a few novelty shops, but primarily it's an arcade. This is basically where you take your kids to play if it's rainy or if they've had enough of the beach. There's an adult arcade behind the kids one, too, complete with slot machines and gambling tables. Overall, it's very cheesy, but I can definitely see how it could be fun.
This is a photo of the old pier. The town had intended to have it restored and built into something interesting, but people kept setting fire to the damn thing. Finally, after a fire last year, the town decided that it was un-restorable, and is planning on building something else interesting to have a replacement attraction (because come burn things usually doesn't attract very many people).
This sign just says "I have great desire. My desire is great." And I thought it was a really odd thing to have written on a wall, so I took a photo of it.
This was the best cupcake ever!!!!!
The beach at Brighton isn't exactly a beach; it's pebbles, almost all the way down to the water, where it's smaller pebbles. It's not really someplace you'd walk barefoot.
This is a picture of my foot after I wasn't fast enough to outrun the wave.
This is a photo of the old pier. The town had intended to have it restored and built into something interesting, but people kept setting fire to the damn thing. Finally, after a fire last year, the town decided that it was un-restorable, and is planning on building something else interesting to have a replacement attraction (because come burn things usually doesn't attract very many people).
This sign just says "I have great desire. My desire is great." And I thought it was a really odd thing to have written on a wall, so I took a photo of it.
This was the best cupcake ever!!!!!
The beach at Brighton isn't exactly a beach; it's pebbles, almost all the way down to the water, where it's smaller pebbles. It's not really someplace you'd walk barefoot.
This is a picture of my foot after I wasn't fast enough to outrun the wave.
The Indian palace is quite lovely in that picture you took. It's an excellent picture, darling. Also, the rish and powerful, huh? ;)
ReplyDeleteThanks about the photo, it was actually taken from the bus. And I'm allowed a typo every once in a while, aren't I?
ReplyDelete