Visiting Brighton again, but no digeridoos this time.

Yesterday turned out to be quite cool day. We decided to take a day-trip to Brighton. The sun was out, it’s fairly inexpensive, so why not? We caught the train down from London bridge and, meeting Mitchell and a couple of other friends at the station, we were soon at the coast. I do like Brighton: it reminds me of Blackpool, but seems slightly less commercial. I like the shops in the narrow, winding back streets. We found a martial arts shop which sold replica swords – I asked the proprietor if they sold bat’leths and, funnily enough, he said they did but had sold them. I promise you, I will own a Klingon ‘sword of honour’ one day.

My geekiness aside, we then went on through the fascinating, rather quaint streets. John was pushing me in my manual chair, and I was just musing to myself about something or other, when I suddenly heard a voice from the past. Out of the blue, Hollie, an old friend from university, called to me. It turns out she is now doing her Master’s in Brighton, and was out with a couple of friends. It was great to see her. I told her we were headed down to the beach and invited her along, and she said she might join us later. In the event she was too busy, which was fair enough – it was a happy encounter anyway.

The rest of the day was spent on the pier, drinking and talking happily. There were no Spaniards or digeridoos involved this time sadly, and we caught the last train home rather than sleeping on the beach. Nevertheless, it was an amazing day, ending at about three this morning in our kitchen. Lyn, Dominik, John and myself resolved that plenty more such trips, to Brighton and other places, are definitely now in order. I can’t wait – who knows who I’ll bump into.

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