Visiting Brighton’s Seaside

Brighton's Lanes

Perhaps it was the salty air of Dover’s Cliffs. Maybe it was the email from a friend encouraging me to experience it. Was it the notorious name?

Brighton. I had heard the name so many times and even though it is only about 50 miles or 80 km from London, I had never been to this seaside town. As a Bermudian I never quite understood the point. I’m afraid a beach will never impress. Ok, maybe not never. I was impressed by Sri Lanka’s….but that’s another story.

Back in Britain, my emailing friend assured me Brighton was more than beach. I decided it was time. It was time to add its infamous name to my list of trips under $100 from London. Yes, if you have been following the Rock Fever Column I write for The Royal Gazette for the last few weeks I have been to Stockholm and Sigtuna in Sweden; Sachsenhausen and Berlin in Germany; Hampstead and Dover in England. For photos of these trips and Bright visit my photos page.

I was further encouraged to jump to Brighton because the train-trip was less than an hour from London Bridge Tube Station and it cost less than £10! Just a tad cheaper than the £50,000 the iconic Brighton Royal Pavilion sold for in 1850. The creation of George IV, the Royal Pavilion was originally a farmhouse before he decided to reinvent it. Now the Pavilion is a draw for crowds visiting this seaside town. Well, at least, it was for me!

However, I’ve never been a map reader. Yes, I admit. I am one of those people that has to literally stand in a map before orienting myself. Luckily for directionally challenged people like myself, Brighton has Visitor Information Centres dotted around the city. I found the closest one to the train station hiding in a Toy and Model museum. I gave the models a miss and followed the man’s directions.

They sent me meandering through streets lined with multi-coloured stores, organic cafes and leather markets, that might have looked more comfortable on Middle Road, Bermuda rather than North Laine, Brighton.

Eventually, I found it! Well, the Pavilion Gardens first and then the Royal Pavilion.

It was a witches’ castle. What am I talking about? You know you’ve made them. Every kid in Bermuda has. You’ve held the wet sand in your hands and made drip castles.

Brighton's Royal Pavilion

What you were making has in fact been sitting on Brighton’s seaside since the1800’s: The Royal Pavilion. And for £9.50 you can experience one of the most ridiculously over-the-top, formerly private, homes in Britain. Originally a farmhouse when George IV the Prince of Wales, rented it in the 1780‘s, it grew along with his lifestyle of drinking, womanising and gambling and Brighton’s! A former fishing town, Brighton also started to transform into a seaside retreat for the rich and famous.

When George was sworn-in as Prince Regent in 1811 because his father George III was incapable of acting as the monarch, the villa grew. John Nash stepped-in. He introduced minarets and domes to the exterior while lathering the interior with enormous dragons and seashell-encrusted ceilings in the red-walled Music Room. No expense was spared, which is all I could think of as I walked through with my complimentary audio guide.

Queen Victoria ended-up inheriting the Palace, but even with all of its grandeur it could barely fit her growing family. Plus she was all about austerity. The opulent palace didn’t quite fit with her vibe so she decided to sell it.
The City of Brighton was quite happy to purchase the former Palace to ensure somewhere for tourists to visit. Hey, I bought a ticket.

Thoroughly impressed by George IV’s ability to spend money, I decided it was time to learn a little more about Brighton in the last couple of years. Sitting right next to the former Palace is the Brighton Museum. Convenient.

Random. Free. Both are reasons to visit this museum that offers some insight to the more-recent history of Brighton. The museum documents the growth of this capital of clubbing in Britain as well as its trend-setters. Of course there is the Fashion and Style section with random outfits provided by everyone from the gothic icons to the grunge mixed with Egyptian antiques. I did say random. Feeling thoroughly acquainted with the history of Brighton I figured it was time to head to the seaside.

Of course the seaside is what Brighton is about! I mean that’s why the rich and powerful people started coming here. The seaside was more than just a beach. It was a health clinic. Yes, a health resort of sorts. In the early 1800‘s Dr. Richard Russell created these ‘dippings’ which included a total immersion into the sea water to cure-all. I can imagine he was paid a pretty penny for these! Heck I can do that. Ok no I can’t. I’m Bermudian. I wasn’t going anywhere near the water.

Brighton's Pier

So luckily for me, the Brighton Pier is still standing and could keep me well above the frigid waters below.

The Pier is the epitome of traditional British seaside. Painted white, filled with an amusement park, rows of junk food and, of course, a candy store, the Pier is somewhere to sit and enjoy the views if you’re lucky and find a nice day. Other than that? It’s not much and the day was too cold for me! I hit the end and headed back to the interior to find a coffee and somewhere warm.

Luckily I could take my pick in the narrow streets in the area called The Lanes i.e.old, bricked buildings creating human-size mazes. Cute stores filled with antiques and clothes called my name. I ignored them and found a tiny coffee place to enjoy watching the fellow lost souls.

The light was fading. It was time. Time to finish my enjoyment of the beachside retreat and head back to London. Which is why Brighton is a great trip from Britain’s capital. It’s an afternoon, it’s a weekend, it can be both. I know, I know, there are supposed to be great clubs in Brighton. I didn’t have the energy. I will have to see them next time.

That’s because I still have to find a few more trips from London that cost under $100! And I did it. Perhaps it was time to come clean. To Bath it is next week and, of course, check back here tomorrow for more suggestions for your own trips!

Dover’s Castles and Cliffs oh my!

Entering Dover Castle

The quiet beep awoke me from my Channel daze.

“Welcome to France. You’re phone calls with now cost…..”

What? But I’m not in France. I’m still in England and yet my phone calls and texts have doubled in price?

Cell phones. The bane of my existence while I travel for a month to find ten trips for my Rock Fever column in The Royal Gazette, for under $100 from London. So far I’ve been to Stockholm and Sigtuna in Sweden; Sachsenhausen and Berlin in Germany; and Hampstead in London.

Now this little piece of technology had interrupted my sunny view of my sixth trip or the white cliffs of…. Dover! Perhaps I should not have been surprised that the French had invaded my phone. The neighbour is about 20 miles or so across the Dover Straight from this strategic southern tip of England. Check out my photos here.

Overlooking the Channel

A town, castle and cliff, Dover was little more than an hour train ride from the St. Pancreas train station in London. Do not, however, make the mistake of shelling-out for the fast trains. With a ticket salesperson’s slight of hand, what should have cost me only £15 pounds ended-up costing me close to £30! Even worse? On the fast trains I also had to switch vehicles outside of London. The slow trains, on the other hand, would have been more direct and less costly. In any case, I arrived around 1 p.m. A little late, but luckily the walk to the Castle from town is only about 15 minutes.

This British Border town has been critical for Britain’s safety for more than 2,000 years, which is why Henry II built the Castle in 1180. After he built the Keep, the Castle became known as “the key” because, of course, any enemy that took it would have full access to Britain.

I seized the Castle via the signs that led up the hill. Luck gave me a sunny day and a man in a ticket booth allowed me to enter for £11.80. For those who do not want to or cannot walk there are buses from town into the castle and inside there is a free land train. I crossed the moat with barely a stone thrown at me and was met with a view of the bustling docks below. Large ferries and cargo ships fill with cars and then expel cars in England’s main port to Europe.

I turned from the sights and set mine on the Secret War Tunnels. Henry II might have built the Castle on the hill in 1180 for strategy, but the Napoleonic Wars in the 18th Century demanded more. Tunneling began to hide troops fighting against the French. Then in the 1940’s the tunnels were resurrected as the command centre for Operation Dynamo i.e. Britain’s retreat from France when they could not immediately defeat the German army. In less than a week, Vice Admiral Bertram Ramsay, from his Dover cliff operation centre, had organized the removal of 340,000 men from Dunkirk, France. By 1942 the British War Cabinet realized these tunnels were bomb proof and started expanding to create an underground city of sorts.

Now these tunnels house a slightly Disney-ish tour of the barracks, hospital and officers’ quarters, complete with sound effects. No, I’m not kidding. As the tour wanders along the halls, voices of the war time effort echo above your head. Not as interesting or as informative as, I thought, the museum that is attached to the tunnels.

While the tunnels protected the military, the civilians were left within reach of the German guns based in Calais. The museum takes pains to explains the extent of bombing on Dover during WWII. Between July 1940 and September 1944, these poor souls were subjected to 2,226 shells landing in the town and 686 in nearby areas. More than 3,000 air raid alerts were sounded and more than 10,000 buildings were damaged. Two hundred and sixteen civilians were killed and 344 were severely injured. This British town was on the front lines. It only became safe in September 1944, after which the guns at Calais were captured by the advancing Allies and finally fell silent. It’s too bad this suffering was not better portrayed in the tour, but luckily it was free.

I left the sound effects and continued my assault on the hill and eventually landed in the Keep of Dover Castle.The entire Castle complex is 70 acres with the highest point containing a pharos, or lighthouse, that was originally built by the Romans to guide their ships across the Channel. Those Romans, always ahead. It’s little more than a circular stone tower standing next to a small stone church (St. Mary-in-Castro), but it is striking set within a beautiful green expanse. More interesting to me, however, was walking the former path of its light rays to see the Channel extending in front of me and the infamous white cliffs stretching to the left. No wonder the Romans built here.

Retreating to the Keep, which includes the Great Hall and two stone chapels, I was bombarded with another history lesson. “The 1216 Siege Experience” is a sound and light show that depicts the French attempt to seize the castle. By 1216 the French had, in fact, invaded southeast England, controlled London and the Tower. Dover held strong, rallied the troops and in 1617 ran the French out of town. Dover was “the key” after all.

The Keep now also contains a 12the Century, replica kitchen, a modern restaurant and a shop. I navigated the knighted plates and spoons trying to come home with me, saved my pounds and took the final batteries that looked across lush, green fields and white cliffs. It was time to head for the open air.

Dover Cliffs

If I could find the way. Other tourists jumped into their cars. I had no choice. I backtracked to the guard who let me in, who told me to head left. I have said this more than once, but thank goodness for the Brits and their signs.

A half hour of following these signs brought me to the National Trust-run cafe overlooking the famous cliffs that were painted white by fossilized marine life. These are transcribed with 4 km of paths that lead to the South Foreland Lighthouse.

At this point, however, I had been walking around the 70 acre castle, up the cliffs and I preferred to sit and watch the ferries meander through the channel. The sun was setting. It was getting cooler. The lighthouse would have to be reached another day.

“Your calls will cost…”

Ok. Ok. I get it. I’m going! It was time for the journey back to London and to my next trip for under $100. Forget the war time history. It’s time for some “cultural” inheritance of Britain at where else? Brighton of course.