Brighton. A place where the wind in your hair, the fresh salt on your lips, and the cry of the gulls makes you feel alive like never before. Fresh from the constraints of a grey concrete jungle they call “London” you emerge into a wild and untamed version of California’s Santa Monica beach and hear the pebbles crunch and grind like glass marbles rolling down the beach.
The wind will push you horizontal and the rain will get you to your very core – but you wont mind. You’ll smile and look at the quirky artwork with bright Hendrix colors portraying the picturesque South England coast and white cliffs of Dover and remember: life isn’t just about the straight and narrow.
Heck; you may even enjoy the 1960’s rides and arcade style gambling machines on the pier, all reminiscent of tourist spots that have exploded and then died a horrible death as the hype withers and departs for the next hot destination. But Brighton holds true to its roots and laughs at those who think it’s comparable.
An ideal location for those who want to check-out of the daily grind, get lost in the maze of cobbled streets and swinging wooden signs, and indulge in that steak & ale pie without the guilt of your burgeoning waistline heading south as gravity fights with your ass against that office chair.
One and a half hours south of London. Do yourself a favour and get lost [for a day]! Your mental well-being will thank you for it.