I love everything about the
ocean. I love seeing it, smelling it, swimming in it, everything. If ever
someone says, “Let’s go to the ocean,” you can bet that I am already in the
car, ready to go. So when Adrian suggested last weekend that we go to the
seaside at Brighton, you can bet I was already on my way to the train station.
I was a little worried when we
first set out. The forecast was chilly and wet – not ideal beach weather. I
knew that I wasn’t going to be able to swim, but I was very concerned that I
wouldn’t even be able to walk along the beach. And I just had to make sure that
I at least touched the water; I wanted to be able to say that I had touched the
ocean on both sides of the Atlantic.
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| Me on the beach |
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| It was a bit windy... |
Brighton train station sits atop
a hill, with a main street that leads from the station directly to the water.
As we walked down the hill, I kept glancing upwards with trepidation. The skies
were grey and looked as if they were about to burst with rain any moment.
Finally, Adrian and I reached the bottom of the hill. We passed through a
tunnel and saw a sign welcoming us to the historic Brighton shore. And there
was the ocean! The beach was unlike any other I have seen before. Every one
I’ve ever been to is sandy; this beach was made of rocks. They were smooth and
colorful, like pebbles, but large enough to fit in the palm of my hand. We
crossed the beach and stood where the water met the shore.
It doesn’t matter how many times
I see the ocean or how often I visit, every time I see it I am in awe. It is just
too big for words. Something about it always leaves me speechless – which, if
you know me, is no easy feat. The water is just so infinite. Nothing breaks the
view. It stretches out its flat monotony before you, so many times farther than
the eye can see. It is honestly, one of my favorite views in the world. I could
spend hours just staring at the water, watching the waves boldly splash onto
the shore and beat a hasty retreat, only to return moments later.
Not this time, though. We hadn’t
been on the beach for more than ten minutes before the rain started. Adrian and
I braved the icy raindrops and made our way to the water. Trying to touch the
waves without getting our feet wet proved difficult. I’m sure we looked like
children as we ran up to the water, fingers outstretched, then dashed away as
another wave threatened to soak us. After several minutes, we finally declared
victory and ran towards shelter.
Along the shoreline were little
shops selling shells and beach trinkets and food stalls advertising fresh
mussels, all built in underneath the highway. We found an arcade and decided
that the best way to wait out the rain was to play a game of air hockey. After
I successfully kicked Adrian’s ass (I am mildly competitive and pretty good at
air hockey), the rain let up and we continued our way down the boardwalk
towards Brighton Pier.
Almost as soon as we stepped onto
the pier, Adrian and I were hit by the delicious smell of fried food mixed with
salt air. Down the middle of the wooden walkway, there were food stands selling
doughnuts, crepes, candyfloss (cotton candy), and ice cream. About halfway down
the length of the pier, there was a large, round, domed building. It had round
windows, and huge lamps all the way round it. We went in and found another
arcade. After a few rounds of Skee-Ball, we left the dome to find that the sun
had come out in full force and the sky was a bright blue. At the end of the
pier was a little carnival area that had rides for kids. We thought about
taking a ride on the small roller coaster, but it required a minimum of three
people, so we moved on.
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| The outside of the arcade |
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| The view from the pier |
All the salt air started making
us a bit hungry, so we left the beach and headed into the town itself. After a
pub lunch, we walked around, looking at all the shops. Brighton is definitely a
tourist town! There were a lot of little bakeries with cakes in the windows,
clothing stores with colorful racks lining the sidewalks, and little shops
selling knick-knacks that no one really needs. We visited a few vintage clothing
stores and an antique market, but mostly just took in the sights.
In the middle of the town is the
Royal Pavilion. It was built as a seaside home for the Prince Regent in the
early 19th century and it is stunning – a huge, ornate building
reminiscent of the Taj Mahal with its white walls, parapets, and giant domes.
Apparently, the prince was very into Oriental architecture and it really shows.
The building doesn’t look to me as if it belongs in the middle of a seaside
town in England!
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| Peeking through the trees |
So despite the chilly weather and
the spot of rain, Adrian and I had a lovely trip to the seaside. And I have now
touched the ocean on both sides of the Atlantic! Life goal complete!
