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Brighthelmstone
Aug. 31st, 2021 08:32 amWe tried to work out how many times we'd been to Brighton, but it was pretty impossible especially as we had been several times with other people. At a guess, 15 visits, but there's always more stuff to find when you walk the back streets, over the top from the station to Kemptown, past the pepper pot folly, the Phoenix red brick brewery, now a community centre, which wouldn't look out of place in Manchester, past rows of sweet pastel coloured terraces. We're staying east this time as opposed to Hove's west (last time) - you wonder if they get along or have Kemp-Hove battles like the mods and rockers in the early 60s, or whether they find common ground in hating Brighton and its tourist tat, crap pubs, psychics on the beach and ugly 60s monstrosities? Talking of mods, there are hundred of them here, from aged boomer mods to baby mod-lings, the (great?) grandchildren of the original, Lambretting up and down the pier, posing for money like 80s punks and not having any fights with rockers because it's their time next weekend (Ace Cafe revival meet up).
We wander around the Lanes and North Laine, drinking fancy chocolate drinks in Knoops fancy chocolateria and then take the Volks train (nothing to do with electric railway for the folk - the original owner was called Volk) and overshoot our destination. Instead of ending up at our destination of Concorde 2 under the beautiful sea-green Madeira terrace (which was opened as a covered walkway in the late Victorian times and closed down a hundred years later. Once upon a time you could get an elevator from the cliff top into the venue (which was then a shelter)), we end up at Black Rock, which seems as unBrighton as you can get, a dilapidated and empty place, bereft of tourists or anyone really. We pass the Old Reading Room, a neo-classical building, now derelict, that was built as a place for local residents to sit and read whilst looking at the sea, which sounds like the most marvellous idea anyone ever had or did.
We also have a vegetarian afternoon tea in the lovely Terre a Terre restaurant that also does a vegan option because under Brighton by-law, vegans are a protected group and not to serve vegan options in an eaterie is officially classified as a hate crime. Indeed, the high street Greggs is the only one I've been into where the person in front and the person behind me order a vegan sausage roll.
The main purpose of our visit is to go to the Find Joy new music festival, and my particular purpose is to see Wet Leg, who have made the most perfect song of the year, to wit:
They are less insouciant at the gig, more sweet and giggly, with no leg kicks. They also have three man-buns playing with them, to my disappointment, Later we spot the keyboard player outside of Purezza Vegan Pizzeria (see above re: hate crime) and then as we're walking through Kemp Town's neon-lit, karaoke soundtracked night, we see the Wet Legs themselves, piling into a taxi, but I have to drag David away before he embarrasses everyone.
We wander around the Lanes and North Laine, drinking fancy chocolate drinks in Knoops fancy chocolateria and then take the Volks train (nothing to do with electric railway for the folk - the original owner was called Volk) and overshoot our destination. Instead of ending up at our destination of Concorde 2 under the beautiful sea-green Madeira terrace (which was opened as a covered walkway in the late Victorian times and closed down a hundred years later. Once upon a time you could get an elevator from the cliff top into the venue (which was then a shelter)), we end up at Black Rock, which seems as unBrighton as you can get, a dilapidated and empty place, bereft of tourists or anyone really. We pass the Old Reading Room, a neo-classical building, now derelict, that was built as a place for local residents to sit and read whilst looking at the sea, which sounds like the most marvellous idea anyone ever had or did.
We also have a vegetarian afternoon tea in the lovely Terre a Terre restaurant that also does a vegan option because under Brighton by-law, vegans are a protected group and not to serve vegan options in an eaterie is officially classified as a hate crime. Indeed, the high street Greggs is the only one I've been into where the person in front and the person behind me order a vegan sausage roll.
The main purpose of our visit is to go to the Find Joy new music festival, and my particular purpose is to see Wet Leg, who have made the most perfect song of the year, to wit:
They are less insouciant at the gig, more sweet and giggly, with no leg kicks. They also have three man-buns playing with them, to my disappointment, Later we spot the keyboard player outside of Purezza Vegan Pizzeria (see above re: hate crime) and then as we're walking through Kemp Town's neon-lit, karaoke soundtracked night, we see the Wet Legs themselves, piling into a taxi, but I have to drag David away before he embarrasses everyone.
