Brighton rocks, not despite the dollop of Bob-Hoskins-in-a-rain-mac seediness, but because of it, writes LOUISE EAST
IT’S A WONDER anyone visits Brighton at all. On the evidence of a short canter through the books and movies set there, Brighton is a place of riots (
Quadrophenia
), stabbings (
Brighton Rock)
, tragic liaisons (
The End of the Affair
) , sinister gentlemen (Bob Hoskins in
Mona Lisa
; Patrick Hamilton’s creepy Mr Gorse) and family dysfunction (Nick Cave’s
The Death of Bunny Munro
). Only
Carry On At Your Convenience
flies the flag for happiness, and arguably getting goosed by Sid James is just as terrifying as getting thrown off the pier by a rocker.
Yet visit Brighton we do: some eight million tourists descend on the resort every year, and the town pops up in those "Best of" award lists just as often as it does in gritty dramas about prostitution (hello London to Brighton, you cheery divil!). As famous people are never wrong, attention should also be paid to the multitudinous celebrities who have made Brighton their home down the years: Sir Winston Churchill (schooled in Hove); Simon Cowell (born in Brighton); Charles Stewart Parnell (died in Brighton); and currently everyone from former boxer Chris Eubank (who purchased the title, Lord of the Manor of Brighton) to DJ Norman Cook and actor Simon Callow.
In part, Brighton’s popularity as a seaside resort can be explained by its location, an hour from London by train, and a very nifty 30 minutes from Gatwick Airport (which makes it ideal for Irish mini-breakers). Standing downwind of the Big Smoke like this also allows Brighton to cherry-pick the good bits of metropolitan living (excellent shopping, hotel rooms which are, quite literally, no frills) while remaining resolutely non-conformist. The city returned Britain’s first ever Green MP in the last election; its gay pride weekend is the largest in the country and in the last census, 2.6 per cent of Brighton’s population described their religion as “Jedi knight”.
MEANDERING DOWN the pier is a good way to start a tour of Brighton. Simultaneously brash and faded, there’s nothing cutesy about Brighton Pier which unashamedly courts the beer ’n’ skittles crowd with ghost trains, a helter-skelter, and a chance to eat your own body weight in fried fish for under a tenner.
In truth, Brighton does not have a lot of luck when it comes to piers. The original of the species, an ingenious chain pier built in 1823, was destroyed by a storm. Its rival, the West Pier, hung on until 2003 when it went up in smoke. Its lacy black remains still sulk off-shore like the current pier’s bad conscience, transformed at sunset by thousands of starlings roller-coasting between the waves and the sky.
The beach at Brighton is of the small-stone variety, and crashing waves can mean it’s used more by 10-year-old boys who like throwing things at sea gulls, than by bathers. Not so back in 1750 when a local lad, Dr Richard Russell from nearby Lewes, came up with the outlandish notion that immersing the body in water might actually be good for you, and a craze for taking to the waters began.
From the pier, you can either hop on Volk’s Electric Railway, a strange little machine dating from 1883 which glides east along the coast towards Brighton’s fairly anodyne marina, or head west towards Hove, which is full of people in nice wellingtons. En route along the seafront, let your appetite dictate whether you need to stop off at The Regency, a candy-striped fish bar of the old school, offering everything from deep fried scampi to lobster thermidor, or at The Grand Hotel, a name renowned to locals not for “that” bombing, but for its excellent cream teas.
Pier aside, Brighton’s big draw is the Pavilion, a truly hallucinatory clump of Mughal spires and onion domes set in a pretty garden of hollyhocks in the centre of town. At the end of the 18th century, as his father, King George III, went slowly, and embarrassingly, mad, Brighton became a bolthole for the Prince of Wales (later George IV).
Initially, the prince rented a modest farmhouse (unlike some, he thought it wise to appear frugal in the face of embarrassing questions about his finances), but he liked Brighton so much, he soon bought up and replaced the farmhouse with a suitably classical edifice by Henry Holland. Bored with that, in 1815, he hired John Nash, who built the current Pavilion on top of Holland’s structure (look out for the clever cutaway cross-section in the wall of the saloon).
Subtlety was not a slur one could hurl at the prince. If one is going to commission a 30 foot-long chandelier consisting of writhing filigree dragons, giant glass lotus flowers and shards of gold, why, one must present it on a bed of life-size, three-D banana-leaves. Dinner guests at the Pavilion (who included Beau Brummel and Lord Byron) were frequently too terrified to sit under the thing.
Interestingly, it was the kitchen that was the prince’s pride and joy, particularly its ground-breaking automated spit, capable of rotating five skewered piglets simultaneously. Tear your attention away from the frankly unnerving dead swan nestling in a roasting pan the size of a bath and take a look at the menus put together by legendary French chef, Marie-Antoine Carême in 1817. It’s a wonder the tea rooms on the first floor doesn’t put his delightful sounding tarte of thrushes au gratin on the menu.
Across the gardens, lies the Brighton Museum and Gallery, a true gem of a museum. Just the right size (ie, not too big), there’s a gallery for 20th century design with a hot-lips sofa by Dali (plus a miniature one that can be dragged around by kids), a gallery full of such oddities as a tiny working model of the guillotine, carved from mutton bones by French prisoners of war, and a brilliantly-presented section on Brighton and its history.
Here you can listen to interviews with Brighton landladies recalling “dirty weekends”, check out models of those missing piers, wonder why goat carts were ever phased out, and play with the new-fangled fitted kitchen of Embassy Court, a landmark modernist apartment block still standing on the seafront. The cafe just across the park is an excellent spot to collapse into a deckchair and order a ploughman’s lunch and an ice cream soda.
IF YOU’RE AFTER something more refined, duck across North Street and into The Lanes, a warren of alleyways or “twittens” dating from the 18th century. Following the evolutionary law which dictates that all fishermen’s cottages eventually end up in retail, The Lanes is now a warren of shops selling dog jewellery, cupcakes and jewelled handbags.
Pull up a stool at the kitchen hatch of swishy fish restaurant Riddle and Finns on Meeting House Lane (Gordon Ramsay is a fan) and order a half-dozen Rossmore Rock oysters (£10/€11.50), which come with huge amounts of bread, smoked mackerel pate and horseradish relish for a small cover charge. Just around the corner is the narrow alley where Phil Daniels and Leslie Ash hid out in Quadrophenia, now home to some reverential Mod graffiti.
Here in The Lanes, or swishing through the music room at the Pavilion, the pleasantly tawdry feel of the seafront seems like a whole other town and in a way, that's Brighton's main appeal. Graham Greene, author of Brighton Rock(a new film version, starring Helen Mirren and John Hurt is due out later this year) said of the town: "I have a predilection for shady places. It enabled me to understand Brighton and its seamy side."
After you’ve spent a couple of days in the place, you kind of see his point – to get sniffy about the deep-fried doughnuts and the fictional serial killers is to miss the point. Brighton rocks, not despite the dollop of Bob-Hoskins-in-a-rain-mac seediness, but because of it.
Where to stay, where to eat and where to go in Brighton
5 places to stay
Drakes.43-44 Marine Parade, 00-44-1273-696934, drakesofbrighton.com. Situated right on the seafront overlooking the pier, Drakes has it all – elegant rooms with a sea view (ironically, something of a rarity in Brighton where most streets run perpendicular to the sea) and a restaurant you actually want to eat in. If money's no object, plump for the room with free-standing bath installed in front of floor- to-ceiling Georgian windows. Doubles from £105 (€120).
Artist Residence.33 Regency Square, 00-44-1273-324302, artistresidence.co.uk. Fans of The Hotel Inspector on Channel 5 will recognise this innovative guesthouse on one of Brighton's trademark Regency squares. Each room is decorated by a different artist, mostly in an appealing graphic style rather than anything too shark-in-formaldehyde. Good value for families and groups of friends. Doubles from £50 (€57).
The White House.6 Bedford Street, 00-44-1273-626266, whitehousebrighton.com. Where other guesthouses go overboard on Pop art prints and Chinese lanterns, The White House gets the balance between style and simplicity right. The better rooms have private balconies and showers built for two, but the smaller doubles still have style. Doubles from £60 (€69).
Brighton Marina Boathouse.Brighton Marina, 00-44-1273-628648, sailnetuk.com/self-catering- accommodation. You'll need your sea legs to stay in this smart self-catering apartment; it's built on a pontoon and rises and falls up to six metres with the tide. There's a double bed on the mezzanine and a comfy sofa bed for kids. Brighton's main action is a 15-minute walk away, but there's plenty of eating and drinking spots in the marina. From £79 (€90) per night.
Nineteen.19 Broad Street, 00-44-1273-675529, hotelnineteen.co.uk. Every second guesthouse in Brighton is boutique; Nineteen offers the usual fluffy white towels and crisp cotton bed sheets, but sets itself apart with cute touches such as earplugs to block out the raucous seagulls, and a ground floor suite which has its own hot tub and private jungle. Doubles from £115 (€132).
5 places to eat
Terre à Terre.71 East Street, 00-44-1273-729051, terreaterre.co.uk. Vegetarians are spoilt for choice in Brighton, and Terre à Terre is the pick of the bunch. Opt for the tapas platter for two (£35/€40) including a carafe of wine, and chunky fries) and you can sample everything from chickpea pancakes with caponata to tandoori halloumi with rostis.
Table.17 Jubilee Street, 00-44-1273-900383. Recently opened but already a firm favourite with locals, Table is bright, buzzy and ticks all the right locally-sourced boxes. English's of Brighton.
29-31 East Street, 0044-1273-327980, englishs.co.uk. The granddaddy of seafood restaurants, head to English’s for an old fashioned Dover sole with home-made tartare (£22.95/€26.40) or a more contemporary lobster ravioli with courgette and basil (£19.95/€23).
Food for Friends.17-18 Prince Albert Street, 00-44-1273-202310, foodforfriends.com. Great spot for lunch and another vegetarian triumph. Try the aubergine croque monsieur (£11.45/€13.20) and bookmark The Cricketers, a 16th-century inn across the road for later.
Due South.139 Kings Road Arches, 00-44-1273-821218, duesouth.co.uk. Highly regarded bistro in a series of arched rooms overlooking the sea. The Sussex fish soup comes with aioli and crackers (£7.50/€8.60), and pork belly is baked with sage and salt (£16.50/€19).
5 places to go
1. Brighton has popped up in numerous films, many of them featuring the iconic pier. The Visit Brighton website has put together an excellent podcast, complete with a downloadable map, detailing Brighton’s celluloid history (visit brighton.com). If you fancy something darker, download the audio book of Nick Cave’s The Death of Bunny Munro (Canongate) and mooch around in Munro’s footsteps while listening to a soundtrack by Cave, a long-time Brighton resident.
2. While children love the Brighton Pier attractions, you might be able to lure them away to the Sea Life Centre by mentioning its shark-encircled underwater tunnel (sealife.co.uk). Directly outside is Volk’s Electric Railway (volkselectric railway.co.uk), which will take you down to Yellowave, a purpose-built beach sports mecca (yellowave.co.uk) with a kids’ climbing wall. Recover in
The Book Nook, a dedicated tots-to-teens bookshop-cum-pirate-ship (booknookuk.com).
3. At the Booth Museum (Brighton-hove-rpml.org.uk/museums), a small eccentric museum in the Seven Dials district, cases of taxidermied animals are stacked right up to the ceiling. There is some interactive paraphernalia, but the dusty dioramas remain as idiosyncratic Victorian collector, Edward Thomas Booth, intended them. Wander the narrow rows of spooky, glass-eyed skuas and petrels and keep an eye out for some taxidermy fakes.
4. Brighton has some classy pubs, particularly in the Kemp Town area. Hand in Hand at 33 Upper St James’s Street is one of the smallest, but it still offers beer brewed on site as well as a fairly Irish belief in substance over style. Across the road, The Ranelagh at 2-3 High Street is good for live blues. On the other side of town, the 18th-century Regency Tavern at 32-34 Russell Square is the Brighton Pavilion of pubs: cherubs, gold eagles, drapes and disco balls in the loos. Between 1897 and 1902, Rudyard Kipling rented a house in nearby Rottingdean, writing many of his Just So stories there. The gardens of The Elms have been restored, and make an interesting leisurely side-trip from Brighton (jump on bus number 1, 12, or 14 from the sea front). While you’re in Rottingdean, check out the Burne-Jones windows in St Margaret’s Church. See brighton-hove.gov.uk.
Hot spot
The 200-year-old Brighton Ballrooms on St Georges Road have just reopened after a revamp, with a new supper club looked after by Michelin-trained chef, Finlay Logan, and a cocktail bar on the balcony. If it’s live music or jazz you’re after, head to The Brunswick on Holland Road, a decent boozer with a decent sound system.
Shop spot
The Lanes is the obvious shopping spot in Brighton, but it’s also worth heading towards the train station to North Laine. Lavender Room on Bond Street is a quirky collection of Chie Mihara shoes, vintage fashion and unusual homewares, Snooper’s Paradise on Kensington Gardens is a permanent flea market, and Utility on North Road specialises in 1950s-style enamel-ware.
Get the picture around the town
Between now and November 14th, the Brighton Photo Biennial is the only show in town. The largest photography exhibition in the country (the last Biennal, in 2008, attracted some 58,000 visitors), this year’s Biennial is curated by Martin Parr, Britain’s unofficial photo laureate.
In exhibition spaces dotted around town, you can check out work by 17 photographers from 12 different countries. In the Brighton Museum and Art Gallery, look out for Rinko Kawauchi’s haunting images of Brighton’s “murmurations” of starlings, then try and spot the difference between the pictures taken by renowned American photographer, Alec Soth and those of his seven year-old daughter, Carmen.
Fabrica, a great venue in an old church, hosts one of the Biennial’s most intriguing collections; vernacular photography by amateurs and commercial photographers, including photos of the interiors of African dictators’ jets from the 1960s, pictures of old litter bins from the 1950s, and some very unconvincing commercial shots of babies from the 1970s.
Elsewhere, there’s work documenting Brighton Pride, a chance to discover a new generation of photographers from India to Senegal, and some eerie shots of Argentina after dark.
- bpb.org.uk.