A Trip to Brighton
Well, the trip to Brighton met with mixed responses. Everyone else had a lovely time, and I had a mixed sort of day. I worried quite unreasonably over organising and collecting the pre-purchased tickets, and was pleasantly surprised when not only did everyone turn up, but everyone had at least two tickets (more in some cases) and everyone was let onto the train. The original plan for the outing had been for several of my old restoration class to meet up and go to the Brighton Museum to see their show on Chinoiserie and then on to the Brighton Pavilion to see a gobsmacking display of the same style. In the event, the g-d, her boyfriend and sister also attached themselves, and, although we made it to the pavilion, and all were suitably amazed, after that we ended up drifting around the shops and frolicking on the beach. I suppose this was inevitable, since most of the party hadn't been to Brighton before, and it does have some pretty amazing shops and the weather was too beautiful not to wander along the beach for a while. There wasn't nearly enough time to do everything everyone wanted to do, so there are plans for a repeat visit, possibly in smaller groups, since I spent a good part of the day worrying that we'd lost someone. Now I've discovered how cheap the train fares can be (£6 if you book in advance, compared to £19 at the station) I should really go there more often. The pavilion was definitely a hit; I did get some pictures of the exterior, but alas no photography is allowed inside, and there don't seem to be any good pictures of the interior online. There are some illustrations here, but they are a mere shadow of the reality, and it is probably one of those things you just have to see for yourself. The dragon-infested music room and the splendidly equipped kitchen are well worth the cost of admission on their own. In the end, everyone had a good time (including me), but, dammit, I'd already bought a ticket for the chinoiserie exhibition, so I'll just have to go again next weekend on my own.
The pavilion through its gardens.
It doesn't look any more real close up.
The pier and surprisingly clean-looking sea.
The English seaside - there are even mad people swimming.
Today, I woke up at six, as usual, realised that I didn't have to be up in time to do anything, and had a delicious lie-in, not waking until well past eleven. This was a bit startling, but I suppose I must have needed the sleep. It did cut into the intensive programme of pottering and sitting about I had planned for the day, though. The rest of the day was spent blissfully doing nothing much, apart from eating, picking the last of the tomatoes and thinking about starting back on the sock monkies. Lovely.
The pavilion through its gardens.
It doesn't look any more real close up.
The pier and surprisingly clean-looking sea.
The English seaside - there are even mad people swimming.
Today, I woke up at six, as usual, realised that I didn't have to be up in time to do anything, and had a delicious lie-in, not waking until well past eleven. This was a bit startling, but I suppose I must have needed the sleep. It did cut into the intensive programme of pottering and sitting about I had planned for the day, though. The rest of the day was spent blissfully doing nothing much, apart from eating, picking the last of the tomatoes and thinking about starting back on the sock monkies. Lovely.