Brighton – Here We Are
We’re here, finally, having done one of the hardest flys ever including an emergency stop-over in Crawley after battling gale force winds down the M23. Nightmare and totally knackering. Then, pretty much soon as we get to Brighton, it turns into the Arctic fucking Tundra. Kid you not. WTF? Nearly April and it’s chucking down freezing snow. This time last year we were boiling our arses off.
Not on. Ended up spending our first night here. It’s a refuge for homeless pigeons:
Couldn’t be arsed to go hunting for a dream ledge in this weather.
It’s actually turned out to be be quite a laugh in the end. We even managed a bit of a sing along yesterday to keep warm. Genius, until one of them suggested the soundtrack from Mama Mia.
We’re thinking we might stay here for a bit, or at least till the weather get’s better. The others don’t seem to mind and there’s plenty of room. In fact, it turns out one of them called Tony has been staying here for two and a half years.
This is Tony (right) on the window ledge:
Said he’d flown away from Worthing one day because he was bored, and landed in Brighton. He’d planned to settle on a nice ledge but ended up here and just stayed on. He was reluctant to say why, so I didn’t push it.
“We look out for eachother and help to keep the place clean.” He said. “It’s more of a commune than a refuge.” Nice one, and definitely the place to be for now.
Come on Spring. Get your shit together.