London has become like a crack cocaine habit – I know I shouldn’t and it tastes like shit but I can’t keep my trotters out of the cookie jar.
Since moving south on a whim this summer, I’ve been slowly creeping back. I’ve not really tried to make friends. Not properly. I’ve kissed some people. I’ve drunk with a fair few and I've worked alongside some legends; a vespa driving girl who sings comedy songs on the internet (whilst dressed as a cardboard babooshka doll) and a boss who wears his lack of enthusiasm like a beacon. Hear dat.
But I’ve not fully let my fro down, travelling back and forth to Hackney like a light up Yo Yo.
I’ve had this slowly dawning feeling that I’m not with my tribe. Unfortunately, I need to be around anger and a sense of impending doom to feel alive.
Still, Brighton you have been lovely. I’m going to wring the last few days of joy out of you like a sweaty loin cloth. Here is what I have enjoyed and my top 10 list of why Brighton shits on the big smoke:
1: Bus drivers speak
You can thank them and they even say things back like “have a good day” or “see you now”. Weird.
2: Outside Space is Achievable
In an age where the tampon is a ‘luxury item’, outside space must surely be the ultimate extravagance. I once lived in a Muswell Hill flat with a small iron step for a garden. I felt like a mighty Empress, sitting there, drinking cheap Riesling as I shouted obscenities to passers-by. In Brighton, everyone has a real garden. They see this as their right, like oxygen or well…Lillets.
3: The Sea
…in all of its turquoize sorcery. I don’t know why looking out to something bigger and unfathomable can make you feel still and un-threatened. Like a cup of Yorkshire tea or a good cry, the sea makes everything feel a little bit better.
4: Clean Toilet Bowls
If it’s yellow, let it mellow. If it’s brown, flush it down.
Vegans don’t leave skids. Fact.
5: Lower Calorie Intake
In the Laines, I paid £7.40 for a glass of wine. This has resulted in me drinking slower. A lot ruddy slower. DO THEY THINK I’M A MILLIONAIRE?!??!?!
Hmmm…still chubby ‘though.
6: The Work based Coffee Morning
There are some dated rituals in Brighton - 1994 called and wants its fire poi back. But 1972, hey – how’s it going? Pull up a chair.
Weak, taste-like-pish coffee? Check.
Hard, over baked cookie? Check.
Chitter-chatter and casual perving on colleagues from across the break-out room? Check.
Just don’t make me talk to anyone outside of my immediate department, OK? I’ve gone back in time, not grown an open minded personality.
7: The People are Kinder
People treat each other like human beings here, they don’t twitch and huff when they’re in a queue. Also, the homeless are part of the community – even the Police stop and talk, rather than moving them on.
8: Be Woken to a Seascape
Granted, I once woke to what sounded like a seagull being gang raped, but you too could wake inside an eerie Hitchcock film each day. Ahem…I mean an Ayckbourn play…ah, lovely seaside SFX.
Better than nightbuses…right?
9: Relaxing the Kohl
Like our European cousins, the Sussex ladies aren’t big on wearing make-up. And do you know what? They’re all goddamn tasty.
Think you’re liberated, visiting Londoner? Try not drawing your eyebrows for a couple of days.
10: The Dogging Spots have Appropriate Names
Bored of mundane Aldi car park dogging sessions? Drop down to Brighton and get your load at Hog’s Back or Duke’s Mound.
Still, I leave in a week. Thanks for the good times Brighton. We’ll always have Pride and the weekend that I drank so much, I couldn’t see.