Brighton

We traveled to Brighton to see the Royal Pavilion, the amazingly grandiose, somewhat bizarre palace Prinny (aka King George IV) built there. I wish we'd been allowed to take pictures inside--the rooms are jaw-droppingly lavish. From there we went down to see the sea. I've never encountered a beach that wasn't sand--this was all large pebbles and stones. I wouldn't want to walk barefoot there, but the guidebook says there's a nude beach farther down the shore. Ouch! And no, we didn't go look. We did stroll up and down the non-Naked beachfront and went out on the very tacky Brighton Pier--we felt we were back at the Jersey, Delaware, or Maryland shore with all the the noise and rides and junk food.

We spent some time exploring the Lanes, narrow streets that are now filled with shops, and ended up having lunch at Jamie's Italian--Mr. M is a fan of Jamie Oliver's cookbooks. (How could he not be? One of the cookbooks is The Naked Chef.) Then after a quick peek in the Brighton Museum and Art Gallery, we caught the train back to London.

We've been so spoiled with beautiful, slightly chilly (especially to my southern blood) weather for our day trips out of the city. Now we're staying in London to finish up our stay. There are too many things to see; Mr. M keeps telling me I have to make choices, but it's so hard!