Ghost Walk, etc.

The Ghost Walk through the Brighton Lanes was a bit disappointing, only because there appear to have been very few ghosts haunting the town.  Oh there was the odd specter appearing before the barmaid, or the drop in temperature (or not) as we passed a walled up doorway that may or may not have been the last resting place of an errant nun.  And there was one grizzly murder at the town hall, but no moving dolls (a la Key West).

But the walk itself was enlivened by the guide who was quite funny.  His props were as lame as his jokes, but he was very good-natured and friendly.  Here he is with what he said represented the ghost of a fellow who died in town after being tortured in the far east.

The best part of his act was the mournful bell that he rang s he walked along.

At the end of the tour I tried to get a good picture of the Brighton Pier at night, but I'm afraid my camera was not up to it.  This is as good as I got.

This is my last full day in Brighton so I thought I might put down some random thoughts about the town.

Brighton has something for everyone.  There are very posh parts and grungy places.  Fine hotels and bohemian neighborhoods.

It is obviously a great place for families.  I have never seen so many baby carriages in my life.  Every time I got on the bus, there was at least one baby buggy--and on at least one occasion four--on the bus as well.

The public transportation system here is spectacular.  As I have mentioned, a day pass will take you to every part of town--and to towns as far as two hours away--all for the same price.  It makes me ashamed of our own paltry system.  Not too long ago I took Greyhound to New York City and the return trip took almost ten hours because they could not find a driver. My exchange partner asked me where she could go for day trips from New Castle on the bus, and I had to tell her that was just not possible unless you were going to a big city--and then there would be the task of getting to the bus station.

Buses are essential here.  The place is so hilly that even the bikers walk up the hills with their bikes at their sides.

About one in five people in Brighton has a noticeable tatoo.  About one in twenty is covered with them.

Brightonians (if I may call them that) are a strange group. I said hello to people on the street when I first got here--always done in New Castle--and people starred back at me and said nothing.  On the other hand, almost everyone thanks the bus driver when they get off at their stop.  I have been called darlin' and "my love" by more than one clerk at a store.

I love that Brightonians are cheeky enough to have put a proper Victorian mustache on the Princess of Wales mosaic in downtown.....and to leave it there for as long as I have been here.

This picture is on the clock tower....

But this is just creepy.

That's a man dressed in a teddy bear suit saying hello to kids right by the pier.  Thank goodness I only saw him once.

I really love the location of the flat I am staying in.  It is very near a bus stop and close to the main attractions in town.  But I don't like that the place has no working TV, no microwave--an iron but no ironing board, and no clothes dryer.  In the damp weather of the last few days, my clothes have been drying for 36 hours and they are still not totally dry.  I also don't like that trash cans and recycling are always in front of every building.  I know there is nowhere else to put it since only one flat has access to the very small backyard, but it makes the neighborhood look very messy.  It also encourages people not to bother to pick up the feces from their dogs.

I really love Brighton's lanes--narrow shopping streets downtown with lots of restaurants and pubs.  I wish I was brave enough to go into every one of them alone--but I'm not.  Most I just admire from the outside.  I really like the old-fashioned train station--and the closeness to London.

There are almost as many pastry shops here as in Paris--this is the reason that, although I have been walking about two to three hours every day, I have probably not lost a pound. Pain au raison is my downfall.

And speaking of Paris, that is where I am off to in the morning.  I take the 9:15 train directly to St. Pancras station, where I take the Eurostar train under the English Channel to Gare du Nord, about 15 minutes from the apartment I am staying in.  The trip from downtown London to downtown Paris takes about two hours--I still can't get over that.  Now I just have to fit all of my Marks & Spencer purchases into my bags!