Killing time in Brighton before I head to Portsmouth. The ferry is 20:15 but I’m going to go quite early and just read while I wait.
Brighton is a seaside town at the bottom of England. It looks like it might be nice when there is nice weather. Right now, however, it looks a bit like a cross between Chernobyl and Silent Hill. It was raining rather heavily earlier but it stopped while I was in for lunch. Afterwards, I took a walk down to the pier, which I can only describe as what would happen if you replicated all the worst of Wasaga Beach on top of a giant dock. Still, there’s always a bright side to everything: I’m taking some afternoon tea in a “bar” on the pier.
It’s been fun, England, mais je vais en France!