Brighton
by Lotta
A couple of weeks ago I went to Brighton to research a travel reportage for Hufvudstadsbladet. I like Brighton. Everytime I go I expect to love it. I get all giddy and excited on the train. I question my decision to live in London. I day-dream about moving closer to the sea. Then I actually get there and realize why I haven’t. The sea is there, but so is the smell of stale doughnuts, Saturday night piss and beer.
I interviewed a tarot reader on the promenade who compared it to Las Vegas. “What happens in Brighton stays in Brighton, people come here to let loose sexually”, he said. Then he read my fortune and told me I would have a relaxing day.
And since I believe in fortune tellers I did. I walked around, chatted to the locals, took plenty of photos and had some ice cream. It was hot, even though you can’t really tell from the pictures.
oh I always thought brighton would be terribly quaint & romantic, & smell delightful, like cotton candy & saltwater.
No, unfortunately not. I don’t think quaint and romantic apply to most british sea-side towns. Brighton is interesting though, but in a seedy this might have been cool in the 80s-kind of way.
Such beautiful photography!!
{sorry I commented on the wrong post!}