Brighton Rocks

Brighton sea front; Lunch with friends James & Kerry

For the last nine months we have been fully paid up members of the rose-tinted glasses brigade. So by default, Singapore is all wonderful, shiny and new. A veritable land of opportunity you might say. England – in sharp contrast – is a cess pit of spiralling crime, parasitic taxation and general doom and gloom. And of the course the weather hasn’t improved one iota.

Oh yes - without doubt, we have spent many a happy balmy Singapore evening sitting on our balcony supping martinis and marvelling at the wonders of Singapore, the demise of England and generally thanking our lucky stars we’re not there any more! And yet there was one defining moment during our trip when we saw beauty beyond the wretchedness of England – and that moment was in Brighton.

True, in many respects Brighton is as bad, if not worse, than anywhere else in the country. Property prices – even though poised to go Titanic - are still ridiculously out of kilter with the rest of the country. If you park in the wrong area (and that’s assuming you can even get parked in the first place) your car will probably get vandalised. Employment prospects aren’t great either - to earn enough to survive most people commute to London every day. To be blunt, there are better places to live.

And yet there’s something about Brighton (or should that be Hove, actually?!) which always draws us back there. Maybe it’s because that’s where we met. Who knows? My Dad once flippantly pointed out that I could live in the charming north-east seaside town of Hornsea for a damned sight less, but that’s a bit like saying you could live in KL instead of Singapore. And frankly who’d want to do that? No, I’m afraid you can give me Brighton’s eclectic shops and cafes over Hornsea’s potteries any day.

I wish I could bottle the sensation of standing on the promenade at Brighton. The energetic buzz of the city behind you fading to an incredible sense of power and peace as you watch the heavy orange sun dip beneath the dinosaur-like skeleton of the west pier. Even in winter, when the winds whip up the grey sea and the rain lashes down relentlessly, there is a raw power about Brighton’s sea front which saves it from being just another cold and inhospitable place. Somehow, it just feels like home.

Picnic with the kids: Harriet and Connie, Mel and Sophie, Felicity and Sophie