I went to Brighton this weekend to see my friend Tash, and ate my way through a lot of fudge. A lot.
A lot-a lot.
There’s a little shop in The Lanes that has very good fudge – my favourite is the fudge with sea salt. The runner up is the one with maple and walnuts. I basically end up just eating my way through the box looking for a piece with sea salt, which is how I end up giving myself heartburn. What a tough life I lead. Still, 3 am fudge-induced heartburn is no joke.
It was brilliant to get a good dose of salty sea air and pale Autumn sun.
We went on the worst, least scary and very rubbish, and therefore most awesome, haunted house ride, the Horror Hotel, on the rickety Brighton pier. And did you know, in Brighton there’s a place called Doughnut Groyne? I kid you not.
We went to the beach and took off our boots and listened to the sea for a while, and I found a bunch of very cool rocks to bring back to Brussels, and managed not to get pooped on by any seagulls.
Also, this happened:
We took a side trip to Lewes (which is apparently pronounced ‘Lewis’) where we had a pub lunch and a wander around the country side, and saw a cloud shaped like a long-necked dinosaur.
We also saw several brilliant signs:
I ate bangers and mash twice, and drank a lot of tea, and stocked up on mini cheddars and M&S percy pig gummies before catching my train back to Brussels.