Brighton

One, two, three, four, five...

One, two, three, four, five...

One, two, three, four, five...

One, two, three, four, five...

One, two, three, four, five, six...six, where's six?  Oh, yeah, we left one at home.

This is what I say about every 60 seconds while we are out with the all of the kids.   I want to be sure that I am not one of those mothers you read about who lost or forgot one of her children in a foreign city. In Paris it was "une, deux, trois, quatre, quinze..."  That's the real reason we only stayed for two days.  I kept forgetting the order of the numbers.

Yesterday we went to Brighton, but decided to leave four at home.  I got tired of counting.  Birghton is a small city on the southern coast of England.  We loved it, well I did anyway.  My English friend, who shall continue to remain nameless (to protect his innocence) suggested it.  There were lots of small shops, small streets, small cafes and pubs.  Oh, and lots of flags, rainbow flags that is.  Today is their annual gay pride parade and the city was well prepared.  In the spirit of "Do as the Brits when in Brighton..." I did pop into an adult bookstore.  I didn't buy anything though.  I didn't take any photos (this is a family friendly email).

While walking around the city we passed a restaurant that advertised "mushy peas" with cornish pastry.  I stopped a couple to ask what is in the pastry and they told me, then I asked them about the mushy peas.

Me: Is it exactly what it sounds like?

The wife: Yes, I think it's disgusting, he loves it.

Me: How do you think they got people to buy into it?  Ooh, let's advertise mushy peas as something really appetizing...

The wife: I think it's something carried down from the north (with a contemptuous look on her face).

We stopped into a small restaurant where Bob got some authentic fish and chips.  I had steak and ale pie (again). It reminds me of a dish my mother used to make and I rather like it. Bob's fish and chips came with mushy peas.  Here was my chance to try it.  It tasted like... not chicken...but mushy peas. I also had a pint of Guiness.  Too dark for my taste. 

Brighton, as I mentioned, is on the southern coast.  It is right on the water.  I want you to imagine for a moment the sugary sands of Siesta Key.  Imagine it wiggling between your toes, imagine it in your hair, and in the waistline of your bathing suit.  Those visiting the beaches of Brighton don't have to contend with washing it out of their clothing, their towels, or vacuuming it out of their cars.  Here is a picture of Brighton sand.

The truth is that I loved this little city.  It reminded me of the laid-back, carefree attitude of Key West, which I love too.  I will be going back to Brighton some day.

Then it was homeward bound.  By the time we got back to the house I was exhausted and needed a nap.  It was not to be, however.  "Mom... mom... mom... mom are you sleeping?"  followed by "Hey, mom, can I go up the store?" or "Mom, what's for dinner?"

Today we are off to Shepherd's Bush Festival.  They promise face painting.