They call it Brighton, not Dimton


I got to spend an afternoon in Brighton.  I strolled a British pier like I’ve wanted to do since forever (or since I found out that they existed when I first read Never Let Me Go).  It was appropriately windy and sunny with just enough brisk ocean spray to remind me of the beaches back home.IMG_3005


I shielded my fish and chips from the seagulls balancing like kites on the wind.  Aggressive dirty assholes.


We rode bumper cars with all the other kids under ten years old.  And beat the shit out of them.
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I didn’t get any pictures of the lanes, but I now know where to go if ever I need to buy some cheap knitted sweaters or flannels.


I’d like to return one day; take some time to sip a few more coffees, browse through second-hand racks, watch a sunset bundled in a blanket from the whipping wind.


1 thought on “They call it Brighton, not Dimton”

  1. Neat! Kind of like Coney Island … and Santa Cruz … and Navy Pier and they ALL have seagulls! I love your “wanderings” / “wonderings” … they are so you … so brave, Merida! You stood up to those seagulls!

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