Oh, to be beside the seaside...

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.

Me on the beach

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.

The outside of the arcade

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 19^th 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!

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!