Europe Photoblogging, Part 12: Brighton
By Dwip September 19, 2014, 4:23 pm Comments (0) RSS Feed for this post

That beach rock at Brighton beach is actually somewhat more comfortable than you might imagine. I was there on 6/4/04 as part of my very last AHA excursion outside of London proper, discussed here. Our time in the British isles is rapidly coming to an end.

Our trip to Brighton is a bit of a tradition, as it’s been a holiday destination for Londoners since the 19th century.

This is the Palace Pier, which I described in my original blog post as kind of a skimpy version of a US county fair on a pier in the ocean.

This whole thing is what’s left of the sort of seaside attraction that was a really popular thing around the 1890s, when parasols, big hats, and restrictive bathing suits were all the rage.

This is what’s left of West Pier, an 1866 version of the later Palace Pier. It’s been decrepit and rotting away since 1975. The larger section in this picture, once the pavilion, was gutted by fire in 2003, and that smaller structure to the right only has about three weeks to live – it will get demolished in a storm by the end of June 2004. As of this year, large portions of the remaining structure also got washed away, and one gets the sense that it’s not long for this world.

As interesting as I find the decay of ruins, it’s a bit of a sad end for something that once gave a lot of people joy, parasols or no.

This is the beachfront at Brighton. I’m near the Palace Pier, looking west to the West Pier, which you can see at the far end of the shot. I confess that it’s not the Oregon Coast, but it’s not bad.

This is a particularly terrible picture of the Royal Pavilion, which is a particularly splendid residence built starting in 1787 for the guy who would later become King George IV so he could party in style at Brighton and get away with his mistress and secret wife Maria Fitzherbert, with whom he appears to have had a fairly complex relationship.

The King’s former love palace is quite a sight, the height of early 19th century interior decor, with lots of interesting little details for us peasants to see, like the servant’s tunnels that allowed them to move around unseen.

Of course, this is one of those places that doesn’t let you take pictures, so you don’t get to see any of it. Sorry.

This is me on the cliffs at Seaford Head. You hear about the whole chalk cliffs thing, well, these are those cliffs.

And this is the better part of the group on top of same cliffs. As you can see, we’re a fair bit up there. As you can also see, there’s not a single blackboard in sight.

I would obviously be remiss if I didn’t give you a picture of the cliffs in all of their scenic glory, so here you are: a scenic picture of chalk cliffs.

This one is half of our group setting off in the Great Trek To Find Our Bus, which had somehow gone missing between when we sat down for food and when we got up. The whole story is here, but the takeaway is that the other half of the group made us walk ages for their own twisted amusement. Bastards.


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