Last weekend I hopped on a train and set off to Brighton. This was my first trip further away than the next city in quite some time. It was also the first time I had stayed away overnight, on my own, somewhere that wasn't a friend's house. So for me it was a big step, and I was very excited!
I arrived at lunch time, and after dropping my bags at my hotel I went straight down to the beach. The tide was coming in, bringing a storm with it. The waves were lashing at the beach and anything else in their path, and the wind was whipping sea spray into the air. It seemed like it was raining, but the rain was falling sea water. I licked my lips and they tasted like salt. Witnessing the sea's immense power was strangely invigorating.
After it became clear that I risked being blown away if I stayed on the seafront, I decided to take a wander through town. I followed a few side streets, with little sense of where I was heading, and ended up in Pavilion Gardens, a lovely little park which surrounds the Royal Pavilion. With the fantastical Pavilion peeking through the trees, friendly squirrels and plump pigeons roaming about, some decidedly Narnia-esque street lights lining the path, and the beautiful music of a saxophone and a mbira floating through the air (courtesy of some very talented buskers) I wondered if I had stumbled into a fairy tale land.