Little escapes from London

Wow, so a year since I blogged huh. This is gonna hurt.
So, where have I been in all that time? You're about to find out.

After Rome we had our annual Rusty's birthday in Brighton long weekend. We went and stayed at a new B and B this time though, the last one being the Artists Residence in Regency Square, it was colourful and pretty but more studenty than a B and B would normally be. Which is understandable really as they were art students who had been pressed ganged into coming and working at the B and B on their holidays by a uni student friend whose Mum had bought the B and B and then couldn't run it herself due to health reasons. How do I know all this? Because about 6 months after we stayed there they were on some Hotel boot camp show where an annoying woman with angular features comes and tells them their hotel is shit and then suggests a number of changes that would make it less shit.
It wasn't unclean or anything, it was mostly that the breakfast was the worlds cheapest bread which you had to cook yourself in a toaster that seemed designed to burn people while the people who were supposed to be working there lounged around in their pyjamas and checked out people they'd picked up the night before on Facebook. So not so much something we wanted to do again.

Motel Schmotel, where we stayed, was a million miles away in service by comparison. Breakfasts were amazing and served in bed every morning. Tasty, tasty food and really helpful service, they couldn't do enough for us. We ended up going back in December because we liked it so much but more of that later.

We wanted to do a bit more exploring outside of Brighton this time so we resolved to catch the scenic bus up the downs. Ah, how I loved saying that. The south downs are not far away from Brighton, and give you fantastic views, apparently Constable was a fan. We headed up there on a slightly chilly Friday afternoon to wander around and see what the fuss was about. There is a big canyon type thing called the devils dyke which is apparently named because who ever saw it first though that it was dug by the devil to flood the god fearing folk in the valley below it. A bit paranoid if you ask me. There's a pub up there as well where you can retreat from the lashing wind and have a pint. I have to say though, with my past history of consistently falling over things, the downs made me a little anxious, I was constantly feeling like the wind was going to blow me over and I'd go rolling down the undulating hills and end up in a cow pat.

Our other little excursion was all the way down the seafront to Hove. The slightly gentrified sister to Brighton's in your face drag queen glory.
It bored us so we went back to Brighton.
Nice bathing boxes though, still doesnt make up for the lack of sand.

Everywhere we seemed to go in Brighton that weekend there was a market of some kind. We ended up finding a man who made and sold bamboo flutes and for some reason I felt compelled to by one. Maybe it was how he played it, maybe it was the fact that I used to play piano but those are harder to carry around and I wanted something to make me think I was musical. Whatever it was, I bought my first hand carved bamboo flute! Its based on a Kiowa love flute so the scale is a bit native American Indian sounding. I played that thing all over Brighton and it has lead to a new little obsession with bamboo flutes. I now have 6 of them, a mediation flute, a Brazilian minor flute, a smaller major scale flute, a calypso flute and a little kid sized minor flute. And an ocarina, cant forget the ocarina. I find it very relaxing, though those around me might not.

Our next little jaunt was up to Yorkshire for Russ' cousins wedding. Keighley was the place, for some reason they insist on pronouncing it Keithley. THATS WHY NO ONE COMES!!
It was pretty though, nice to get out of London certainly. We had a 2 hour train trip to Leed's followed by a half hour train to Keighley itself. I developed a new fondness for Premier Inns in Keighley. I'd never been in one before but Lenny Henry makes them seem so endearing on those ad's he does on Television and they are pretty cheap, in Keighley certainly it seemed about the only place we could stay. When leaving London, the first thing I always notice is how much the quality of water improves the further out you get. Take note London, if you want to keep me you must improve your water quality. The wedding itself was on a Saturday, the wedding ceremony itself was in a spiritualist hall in Keighley then we all headed off to a gorgeous old manor house called Riddlesden Hall for the reception. I got to meet all of Russ' extended family and they were lovely. Everyone was really easy to chat to. That was probably one of the first weddings that I've been to in a long time and genuinely enjoyed myself. The next morning we headed off into town to catch an old steam train to Howarth, the home town of the Bronte's. I'm a sucker for some kitsch so I thought the old steam train was a great way to spend a Sunday, they serve real ales on board as well if you're into it. In Howarth itself, everything was coming up Bronte, as we got out of the train they had Bronte hardware stores and Bronte Balti houses. We crossed over the railway bridge and followed the signs up a hill that was so steep it was almost vertical, we later found that just slightly along from where the signs directed tourists to wander, was a much gentler incline which took you up through the main street and to the church and house where the Bronte's lived. Clearly a cruel joke on the part of Howarth, making the tourists suffer. You could see everyone else thought the same as we struggled up this giant hill, they would all stop periodically to sit on the wall that ran all the way to the top, pretending to admire the view and take photos when they were really just stopping for breath so they didn't pass out. Every pub in Howarth had a sign on the front of it claiming, this is where Branwell Bronte drank, and every one of those signs was true, there was a reason after all that he died so young. It was a lovely jaunt to the country to get away from the smog and hard water of London before we had to head back and get in to the worst of winter.

Next up: Dentists, moving in the snow like a freakin orphan and Christmas....