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I took a train to Brighton yesterday. It has gay stuff and a beach, so it won the contest to be my excursion outside London.
Pro tip: Even though there is effectively one giant tube station officially named King's Cross St. Pancras, the inter-city "national rail services" depart from King's Cross or St. Pancras, which are two separate but adjacent stations. (The Eurostar to France via the tunnel is only available at St. Pancras.) My ticket to Brighton let me into King's Cross, but I freaked out a little when I didn't see my train on the departure board. Then the penny dropped. Off to St. Pancras across the street!
Trains to Brighton are frequent enough, and I guess uncrowded enough these days, that nobody cares if you get on an earlier one than your ticket says. Fun fact: Gatwick Airport seems to be halfway to Brighton from London. It's out there. There is actual visible countryside on that route, but not much.
Brighton, which is essentially a medium-sized city on a beach, has tons of lovely 18th- and 19th-century architecture. I'm guessing it didn't get bombed as much as London did. The beach itself? Pebbles. One of the bisexuals told me this is one way the English teach their children a lesson in stoicism: walking on that surface barefoot isn't comfortable.
There's an offshore windmill farm just visible on the horizon. There's a Victorian pier with an amusement park. And just two blocks inland is Brighton's sizable oh-so-gay gayborhood, St. James's Street*. And there's the Royal Pavilion, a gorgeous 19th-century pile of orientalist architecture, that took me completely by surprise! Brighton, you're a little extra too, and I love you for it.
On the way back I saw the St. Pancras Hotel near the station, which looks like a lovely (and fiendishly convenient!) place to not be a villain the next time I come here, if I can swing it.
*How did I find St. James's Street? By typing "gay bar brighton" into Google Maps. There was an abundantly clear clump of red dots on that one particular street. I didn't get anything to drink there; it was early and I'd just had a big cider around the corner with my fish & chips & mushy peas.
Pro tip: Even though there is effectively one giant tube station officially named King's Cross St. Pancras, the inter-city "national rail services" depart from King's Cross or St. Pancras, which are two separate but adjacent stations. (The Eurostar to France via the tunnel is only available at St. Pancras.) My ticket to Brighton let me into King's Cross, but I freaked out a little when I didn't see my train on the departure board. Then the penny dropped. Off to St. Pancras across the street!
Trains to Brighton are frequent enough, and I guess uncrowded enough these days, that nobody cares if you get on an earlier one than your ticket says. Fun fact: Gatwick Airport seems to be halfway to Brighton from London. It's out there. There is actual visible countryside on that route, but not much.
Brighton, which is essentially a medium-sized city on a beach, has tons of lovely 18th- and 19th-century architecture. I'm guessing it didn't get bombed as much as London did. The beach itself? Pebbles. One of the bisexuals told me this is one way the English teach their children a lesson in stoicism: walking on that surface barefoot isn't comfortable.
There's an offshore windmill farm just visible on the horizon. There's a Victorian pier with an amusement park. And just two blocks inland is Brighton's sizable oh-so-gay gayborhood, St. James's Street*. And there's the Royal Pavilion, a gorgeous 19th-century pile of orientalist architecture, that took me completely by surprise! Brighton, you're a little extra too, and I love you for it.
On the way back I saw the St. Pancras Hotel near the station, which looks like a lovely (and fiendishly convenient!) place to not be a villain the next time I come here, if I can swing it.
*How did I find St. James's Street? By typing "gay bar brighton" into Google Maps. There was an abundantly clear clump of red dots on that one particular street. I didn't get anything to drink there; it was early and I'd just had a big cider around the corner with my fish & chips & mushy peas.
