The town of Brighton is actually bigger that I expected. So, touring it had more to offer than I thought. Most importantly, it had more to be liked than I thought. I spent the morning walking through The Lanes. The North Lanes are so cool, cooler than their Southern counterpart, which didn’t really make an impression on me. There are so many cool shops around, full of pretty, vintage, and sort of unique stuff. I liked it a lot. I was really looking forward to spending some time inside a vintage shop called Snoopers Attic, but I was in a rush (again), so I didn’t really get the chance. I only walked past it. It lasted long enough for me to admire the merchandise on the outside and getting all thrilled about finding Snoopers Attic… Such short-lasting meager joys… It’s like I died and went to vintage heaven…
However, it’s nice to be surrounded by all those nice shops and that lively energy. It feels nice. It feels interesting. There’s also a pub named after fictional Irish fishermonger and prostitute Molly Malone in town. Cool.
Right after that, I got on the Brighton Wheel. It is not exactly like getting on the London Eye, but you can see a good part of Brighton’s glory from this 50 metres creation, so why not? I sat in one of the regular capsules, no VIP experience for me. As if! The “voyage” lasted four rotations and I got to spot town landmarks such as the fantastic Royal Pavilion, the near Brighton Pier, the West Pier and got a good view of the surrounding beach. During the
ride, you can listen to a narration by Steve Coogan who narrates some stuff about the history of the town and its landmarks. I would’ve liked to grasp more of what he was saying, but unfortunately I couldn’t get the other people in the capsule to keep their mouths shut for a minute. Not even for the safety guidelines. So, all I got was some fleeting info about King George’s crazy whims.
For shopping, Churchill Square is the go-to mall in the town center… I did not spend much time nor bought anything there, but I met some cosplayers. Bow ties are cool, and so are Asgardian horn helmets and trained dragons, if you know what I mean. I was definitely more into buying classics at Waterstones. However, I wasn’t actually feeling well that well that day, so I didn’t really know what I was doing by the end of the afternoon, and I didn’t even get to enjoy the shopping spree as much as I would’ve liked because I was in a rush. Again. Shitty, really. And given my poor health between that day and the next one, I really had no idea of what I was doing. So, I should remember myself not to go shopping when I don’t feel good, because I’ll inevitably lose control and spend more money than I want to. Though I did spend less than everybody else during the whole trip. But still too much for my taste.
Interestingly enough, I went to a memento shop that afternoon and the Algerian cashier told me he thought I look like I have Algerian/Moroccan origins, which, as far as I know, I don’t.
My feeling ill persisted throughout the evening, given that I had the highest temperature I’ve had since I was fourteen. Nevertheless, the following morning was the one I was set to visit the Royal Pavilion, and there was no fucking way I was going to miss the Royal Pavilion. So, there was little I could do: swallow some paracetamol, pray and sleep, all while hoping to have defeated whatever weird thing I had caught by the morning. Some fever wasn’t going to kill my vibe. Even though it made me cry… Just a little bit… Just a little bit…