I'm not quite sure where to begin in my attempt to describe the changes that have occurred in my overall perspective of the universe in the past 72 hours. I guess I could try starting with how it all began.
On Thursday night, while cooking a simple pasta dish with meat sauce with Natasha and Caroline, Natasha mentioned in passing something by the name of "London Fashion Night Out". From what little knowledge I have of fashion nights out, aka performing with the high school dance team at Bloomingdales, I knew that only good things could come from this event. I did a little research while my cohorts finished cooking and found that it wasn't just a random event. It was in fact a city-wide night of free champagne, trying on pretty clothing, and realizing that money can buy happiness sometimes sponsored by none other than Vogue. After looking up a few of the designers and retailers that were doing the event, I was able to convince the girls to go for it. At first it was not that fun because we got there a little later and none of the stores were really bumpin' like we anticipated. Yet, then we found Zara where the champagne was flowing, the live models were... doing whatever live models do, and the clothing was taunting. After Evan bought herself a wonderful cropped peacoat that is SO PRACTICAL and SUCH A GOOD PURCHASE (I don't think she's convinced herself yet), we headed off down Bond Street a little more seeking another store with as much excitement as Zara. We did come across a shop called Massimo something that was pretty interesting (and had gold plated chocolates, yum), but we did not really think it fit our taste. We rounded the corner heading toward Picadilly Circus when a table of Pimm's and champagne caught my eye in a store called Karen Millen. I flagged down my slightly disappointed friends, as we had not really made the most out of our night yet, and went into the store with them. Little did we know, we would not exit until a few glasses of champagne and a few slutty/expensive dresses later. The people in the store were so unbelievably nice and had a very clear understanding of what a fashion night out should be about. The champagne was flowing... literally, the server kept our glasses full the entire time... and the people working at the store were BEGGING us to try on cocktail dresses that we clearly were not going to be buying. I was so impressed because I know that, in my experience in the states, American retail workers would never encourage young girls to play dress-up on their time. However, the native Italian buxom brunette sales rep was throwing us into dressing rooms, begging us to let their makeup artist do our makeup, and eventually convincing us to let their PR photographer take pictures of us for their website. I was quite afraid that my Zagarow backside was going to bring the end of the zipper on the dress that I tried on, so I was quick to peel that baby off. However, there are some adorable pictures of my friends floating around facebook donning Karen Millen originals and holding full glasses of champagne. When we parted Karen Millen that night, all of us were glowing. Not just because we had been drinking champagne for free for over an hour and not just because we got to feel famous compliments of Karen Millen. I think we were all just so happy to be together and enjoying what studying abroad is all about... coming across a completely random occurrence that, when mixed with a positive attitude and supportive friends, has the potential to create everlasting memories. I know that's kind of sappy, but it was essentially the theme of my weekend. Why? Well, after my wonderful interview with my prospective coworkers at David Lidington's office on Friday morning, I took an hour-long Southern Rail train with Caroline and Kendall from the London Victoria station to Brighton. It was a shockingly quick and easy train ride that gave us the opportunity to see an English countryside that we had not been exposed to since our arrival in Great Britain. Yet, I will admit that the three of us American girls had absolutely NO idea what we were getting ourselves into.
Upon our arrival in sunny Brighton, the three of us trekked our way downhill to the seafront and over to our hotel, the New Madeira Hotel, which was overlooking the gorgeous water. We were quite overwhelmed on our walk by all of the pubs, shops, and the pier. Yet, we were quite toasty in our London attire and were definitely intent on getting to our hotel asap. I'd have to say I was rather delighted with the place we stayed in. It was by no means five star nor was it quiet, as we learned at 4 a.m., due to the club the hotel owns called the Funky Fish, which was right downstairs. Yet, pictured is the view from our window.
Pretty good for a night in Brighton, don't you think? Well, after we dropped our belongings, we decided to head down to the "beach" to see what the English coast town had to offer us. I put beach in quotations because to my surprise the sand was not sand... it was rocks.
I had never seen anything like it before, but it did give me a pretty amazing idea. I want to open a bar/restaurant on the beach in Brighton and call it "On The Rocks". Get it? Get it? Well... let's call it a back-up plan. We walked along the beach where there were all sorts of restaurants, pubs, and small shops set up. A lot of the shops had beautiful artwork and jewelry for sale, but there were also a few more tourist-targeted set-ups with post-cards, etc. The three of us sat once or twice for a beer or a gaze off into the horizon. We were lucky enough to encounter a 'stag' party, the British version of a Bachelor Party, at one of the bars we went to on the boardwalk. We were a little hesitant to speak to these men at first, as one of them was wearing a neon man-thong a la Borat with a lei and far too short boxers. However, they were actually all very nice and willing to explain what a stag weekend and hen weekend (Bachelorette Party) were and what the soon-to-be groom's wedding plans were. He also shared the story of his engagement, which had Caroline, Kendall and I practically weeping at his feet, naturally. At the end of our short dialogue, we had entirely changed our perspective on thong-bearing men. Little did we know, altering one's perspective on the unconventional would become the underlying motif for the rest of our experience in Brighton.
After moseying along the beautiful coastline, Caroline, Kendall and I opted to walk back up to the road and start heading back toward our hotel. Then, when we least expected it, not that you can ever really expect this sort of thing to happen, a large Corona-themed double decker bus comes rolling down one of the streets toward the sidewalk that we were walking on. The music was blaring, the Corona was flowing, and for some reason, Caroline and I were waving. Within seconds, the bus was stopped, one of the young men in a Corona shirt was opening the back door, and we were kidnapped by the Corona promotional team on what would probably be the most random, yet most rewarding experiences that I've had so far here in England (don't be ashamed mom, you love Corona too). At first we were a little frightened, being three American girls who just willingly climbed to the top of a double-decker bus decorated in Corona labels with 8 or 10 young people also wearing Corona labels. However, after we were handed ice-cold Coronas and invited to come sit down and enjoy the ride, we were willing to accept that this was not in fact a slave-trafficking scheme and we were actually living the dream. I have a feeling that you probably don't believe me right now so here's a picture to prove that this actually happened...
Yes. This is real. Yet, this experience was not just wonderful because of the free Corona. First of all, we were basically given a free driving tour of Brighton because the bus was just winding through the streets, uphill into the heart of the town and then back downhill toward the ocean. Second of all, most of the people you see pictured here were actually "unis" or university students who attend school in Brighton. It was really great to finally meet people our age who could talk to us about their lives and their opinion of the U.S. I'd have to say the best part of that was when Joy/Joan, the blonde with the glasses, told us that she desperately wanted to go to a "red cup pawtayyy". She was referring to Solo cups. Ah, the wonders of classy American college life - so many aspire to it, yet so few achieve it. Kendall, Caroline and I could not help, but laugh hysterically at her because we could not imagine why ANYONE would have a life-long dream of drinking stale Natty Light from a red cup. Yet, J-friend probably thinks its funny that anyone would actually go out of their way to spend a night in Brighton so... we're even I guess. The third part of this that was so wonderful was how utterly RANDOM it was. I mean really... how often are wandering a small coastal town in England when you get picked up by a double decker Corona promotional bus and chauffered around town by an inflatable beer bottle and an everlasting supply of booze? Umm... never.
About an hour later we were dropped off near our hotel. We schlepped back up to our room where we sat in complete bewilderment over what had just happened. I can't even really come to terms with the fact that we were actually on a Corona bus now to be honest, but at least we have the photographs to prove it. The rest of our experience in Brighton was no less uneventful. We went to a great restaurant for dinner that was right on the water then headed off to a bar on the main street of Brighton. We met up with our Corona friends temporarily there, but that wasn't really the most compelling part of the evening. After basking in the glory of non-London prices for food/beverage in Brighton, aka reasonably priced items, Caroline, Kendall and I watched the wonders of the coastal town unfold before our eyes. One minute we were in a relatively tranquil bar. The next minute, the techno beats were blasting, a scantily clad townie who definitely needed some form of dietary supplement was breaking ground on the dance floor, and the true colors of Brighton were revealed. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a crowd of rather husky women appeared dressed in a variety of Disney princess outfits. As Kendall put it, never did I think I would ever see Snow White pole dance. And yet she did... then two men dressed in either a leather cat suit or tennis dress, not quite sure how to describe it, appeared and began a dance-off. I won't lie, the Brighton-ness had rubbed off on us, and eventually Kendall, Caroline, and I were throwing it down on the dance floor with the Ana Kournikova wanna-be. Yet, it wasn't long before we realized we were the probably the only ones in the bar that weren't there on a stag/hen weekend and that it would probably be best to leave. We called it an early night, but we went to sleep rather late considering the ruckus of those who frequent at the Funky Fish below our hotel.
This morning we awoke with pains in our stomach, thanks to the over-sugary pitchers of whatever Brighton decided to intoxicate us with the night before, and hopes in our hearts of achieving the same level of excitement that we had somehow discovered the day before. After checking out of our hotel, we grabbed a quick breakfast then headed over to the Brighton Pier, which can be seen in the picture above from our hotel window. Little did we know, when you entered the indoor section of the pier, you basically took a quick journey over to Las Vegas. There were slots and arcade games everywhere with lights flashing, noises blaring, and... let's just call it sensory overload. We walked to the end of the pier where all of the rides are, but we did not ride any of them out of pride and common sense. I did like walking the pier though because it gave us a great view of Brighton.
After walking the pier, we headed over to the Royal Pavillion, a really random Taj-Mahal style palace smack in the middle of Brighton. I found the palace itself to be rather strange, but there was a museum there with the history of Brighton, a city once known for its "dirty weekends" (explaining the bachelor and bachelorette parties I guess), and an exhibit on Egyptian archaeology (definitely did not expect that). After we walked through the small museum, we sat outside under the trees between the three boys under the age of 12 who were attempting to break dance to "Sex Machine" and "Boom Boom Pow" and a man dressed as a French chef who kept trying to gain the attention of little children with fishing rods, pans, and rubber chickens. So cliché. We were quite frightened of this, so Caroline, Kendall and I decided to continue wandering around town until it was time for our train back to London. We were delighted to find a few street fairs and festivals going on throughout Brighton, which kept us entertained for the afternoon. There were also a lot of smaller streets like the one pictured below that were narrow and had a very eclectic assortment of shops to go in.
A lot of Brighton looked like this, smaller streets lined with funky stores ranging from clothing boutiques to jewelry stores to antique shops. It was definitely a nice change of pace from what we had seen in London so far and really opened our eyes to what England has to offer other than bobbies, red telephone booths, and fish and chips.
By the time we made it to the train station, we were in a Brighton-induced daze. We couldn't help, but look back on all that we had seen in the past 24 hours. From gorgeous ocean with rocky beaches, to a Coney Island style pier, to MUCH cheaper food and drink, to the Corona bus, to the Disney Princess romp session downtown, to the Taj-Mahal style palace... it was truly an insane experience. We had an amazing time for obvious reasons. To be honest, I don't think I remember the last time that I laughed as hard as I did when we retreated to our hotel room after the Corona bus tour on Friday evening. Yet, we also saw a different side of England that we never could have guessed existed. Would you ever think that the boys of the Castro could find a place on the coast of England where they would feel at home? Can you think of a place where a grown... HAIRY grown man could walk around a boardwalk in a Borat-style swim suit? Where else do you find British accents and bohemian chic street fairs held together by a cool ocean breeze? We're convinced that when we left Brighton, the entire city just folded into itself and disappeared into oblivion. It was that unreal of a place. Yet, if that is not the case and Brighton does in fact exist, I would recommend it to anyone looking for an experience that will shatter your world as you know it.
Hanging out on the coast of England
Unbelievable sunset from our hotel window
Kendall expressing her envy of my crepe
Pub on the main street in Brighton
No comments:
Post a Comment