…not much is open to a jetlagged Canadian in Brighton at 6 am on the Saturday morning of a bank holiday weekend.
[Apart from the sleepy, ruffled pidge….]
So while I await the awakening of my travelling companions, a few observations regarding my all-too recent return to the UK.
1. It is extremely windy in Brighton. This is a windy island in general, but this little seaside spot in particular certainly gets more than its fair share.
2. The food here is all kinds of interesting. Last nght I had goat cheese and orange marmelade crostinis, which were fantastic, but still less interesting to me than this:
Do you know what this is?
It is a poached egg; curried, battered and deep fried.
Apparently someone deep-fried a wagon wheel [the wooden variety] at the Stampede this year, but this little number above still astonished me. So many questions. To begin with, why a _poached_ egg?
3. Travellers are generous everywhere. I just compared cameras with a Japanese lady at the table beside me. [Nikon vs Pentax, since you ask…]. She had NO English at all, but afterwards handed me a couple of candies, to thank me for my interest. She and her travelling companion are now sitting at the table beside me with their hair clipped back, applying makeup using tiny little mirrors.
That’s all I’ve got for the moment. I think it’s likely I’ll need a nap this afternoon, since I’ve actually been up since three thirty, listening to the voices of the rabid party animals who frequent Kings Street near the pier in Brighton. But for now, I’ve got a little writing to do.
Busman’s holiday? Me….?