Monday, November 28, 2011

One afternoon in Brighton

When I open my eyes, I see a familiar ceiling, a ceiling that I used to wake up to. For one second, I thought I was at home, but I am not. I am about 100 miles away from London. I am in Folkestone, to work.

I can still feel the hangover from yesterday after a few pints of becks with some of my co-worker in the bar. 

I enjoy working in the bar, the feel good vibes, music, friendly blondes and blokes, cool DJ, a lovely bar tender whom is a mother of five with breast enhancement for free from the NHS.
Just ignored the last bit, I am still tipsy now. 

I am going Brighton today, just to get out of London for a few hours, away from work, away from my working place.

I followed John's car to Brighton, we took the small trunk roads along the beach instead of the Highway. 
Although the duration of the journey is about double, but the sightseeing is breath-taking. Typical country road. Perhaps, the sunny weather added some value to the scenery. 
Worth the while! 


Arrived Brighton about 1530, which is about one hour from sunset. Perfect! Just enough time to explore the city before it's too dark. 
John parked the car in regency car park and I went on a short walking tour in Brighton.
Just about 5 minutes strolling the city without googlemap, I found myself in a familiar hotel which I was upgraded complementary to a sea view suite last year. Ahh, thinking of the good times, the upgrade made my holiday last year. Truly enjoy it. 

Went on walking around Brighton City, I did 'HEAR' couples snogging on the street, although I tried very hard avoiding walking near them when they were snogging. 
That is the thing about Brighton where everyone is walking with someone. Love seems so natural here. 

When the skies getting dark, I decided to end my direction-less walking tour in Brighton and check Google to find the nearest shopping mall. 

Bought a single shot espresso from Nero and a brown newspaper with DSK-scandal featured on it. I spent the rest of my time in the coffee shop myself indulging this scandal. 

My conclusion is
"French politic is over-rated, especially the prime."








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