A lovely silence
July and the drought continues. Today the rain relented only for an hour or so, and Toby and Romy set off among the bedraggled denizens of Brighton. I joined them later at the Marwood for a cup of coffee, and then, taking advantage of a slight brightening of the clouds we scurried onto Brighton Pier where it began to rain again. Romy said that it reminded her of places in Japan. Then off to The Giggling Squid for a pleasant lunch. It has been wonderful to spend a couple of days talking to Toby and Romy.
Then rain dodging through the lush Pavilion Gardens to the Brighton Museum. Am really beginning to warm to its eclectic collection, we spent some time happily drifting in there. On the way home, Toby suggested we go into St Bartholomew's Church, which I'd never been to before, despite its huge and austere brick presence in the New England quarter. It has an extraordinarily lofty interior, making you feel ant-like (in a pleasant, spiritually-uplifting way) as you walk in. All three of us stunned and humbled by this and we sat gazing at its gleaming altar and up to its distant roof, all the time above our heads a huge block of spiritually-charged silence. Absolutely lovely, and a building I have walked past a hundreds of times without going in. I will be going back as soon as I can.
Home, and holiday snoozes, then up and out for a couple of pints and some pub grub at The Signalman, Toby smacking his lips on the nice bitter there and wishing that his local in Toronto would serve it. Romy's food was cold, but the staff gave her a free glass of wine and many apologies so face was saved all round. Poor Lorraine, who had been slogging all day, rounded off with two presentations about Maths at a parents evening crept up to the Signalman and had a cheeky beer with us before we went home. Tobs and I stayed up to watch a warm hearted documentary about the controversy stirred up when Paul Simon made his Graceland album.
Below two smiling cats and a 1805 chamber pot designed to help you express your feelings for Napoleon, both in The Brighton Museum, and a snap of the magical interior of St Bartholomew's, which doesn't do its scale justice.
Home, and holiday snoozes, then up and out for a couple of pints and some pub grub at The Signalman, Toby smacking his lips on the nice bitter there and wishing that his local in Toronto would serve it. Romy's food was cold, but the staff gave her a free glass of wine and many apologies so face was saved all round. Poor Lorraine, who had been slogging all day, rounded off with two presentations about Maths at a parents evening crept up to the Signalman and had a cheeky beer with us before we went home. Tobs and I stayed up to watch a warm hearted documentary about the controversy stirred up when Paul Simon made his Graceland album.
Below two smiling cats and a 1805 chamber pot designed to help you express your feelings for Napoleon, both in The Brighton Museum, and a snap of the magical interior of St Bartholomew's, which doesn't do its scale justice.
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