Brighton Rock: Not So Bad After All

One of the most depressing books I have ever read in my life was Brighton Rock by Graham Greene. Consequently, I have never had the slightest desire to go there.  By the greatest coincidence, I ended up there involuntarily when I could not find a hotel at Gatwick Airport.

The lady at the Gatwick Travelodge (about the fifth hotel I had tried) told me that just about everything in and around Gatwick Airport was full but why not try the Travelodge in Brighton. She could guarantee availability.  What?

Wasn’t Brighton on the coast and nowhere near Gatwick Airport?  She assured me that it was only 24 miles away and that at 6 o’clock in the morning (my flight was at 9am the next day) I would be there in about 30 minutes.  She was wrong.  It only took me 20 minutes the next morning at 80 mph!

Much to my surprise, Brighton was delightful.  A blend of Imperial Glory and faded elegance.  And it had an air of Brooklyn in the seventies--at least where I was staying in the Travelodge just outside the main drag.  I heard everything from Russian to Indonesian there and didn’t understand the English either--Sussex folk doon thar.

The famous Brighton Pier, largest in the world I am told.

Click on “Read more" below to see a few more photos.

 The railway viaduct near the Travelodge--I knew there was a catch!

 The Prince Regent’s Folly: The Royal Pavilion

 Fancy shopping area on North Lane

 So this is where Elvis ended up--not that 711 in Alaska

 Just in case you missed it the first time

Yes, there’s a big ferris wheel on the Esplanade but you can also see here the longest-operating electric train in the world.  Inventor Magnus Volk’s Electric Railway opened in 1833 and has been running ever since.  I would have gone on it but it was just pulling out when I arrived.  Who knows when (if) it was coming back. 

 The Royal Pavilion--now an art gallery and museum

 Not sure which King and Queen but it does look like Henry VIII.  If so, you have to guess which Queen it might have been.  Hillary Mantel slept here.

A masterpiece of natural art!

A game of bowls--view of the park from my Travelodge window at the front. I don’t think it was in Brighton that Drake said: “There’s time to finish the game and beat the Spanish too”.  I think it was in Plymouth Hoe.  Remember Henry Newbolt’s “Drakes Drum?"  Me neither.  But Google does:

Drake he's in his hammock till the great Armadas come,
(Capten, art tha sleepin' there below?),
Slung atween the round shot, listenin' for the drum,
An' dreamin' arl the time o' Plymouth Hoe.
Call him on the deep sea, call him up the Sound,
Call him when ye sail to meet the foe;
Where the old trade's plyin' an' the old flag flyin',
They shall find him, ware an' wakin', as they found him long ago.