Brighton

I went over to Brighton to see a couple of friends from 'oop North' - and very enjoyable it was.

On the way there, I sat on the station platform and a woman on a bench on the other side of the track ( Rye Line ) with a short back skirt and horrible white and blue legs flashed me repeatedly - I felt quite sick, it wasn't pretty. I made a point of getting a copy of the Guardian out of my bag and that put her off until the train came.

On the train a couple of Russian women were talking animatedly in their mother tongue, the only discernable English word was 'Bitch' which they used frequently. The man opposite stared at me intently all the way to Lewes - he appeared to have no whites to his eyes, I had a David Icke moment and hid behind my paper.

A fat woman with two Big Macs and a coke under her arm, and about 6 grubby kids got on at Eastbourne - the train was packed and she barked " I'm sitting my lot in first class - I've got kids, that's what it's for" - I realised that all of modern societies woe's were contained in that one line.

Everyone in Brighton is beautiful, and all under 25 - I did not see a single person any older unless they were in a menial job. It was packed to the gills, and at least 15 degrees warmer than Hastings, which was actually cold and windy. Brighton was basking in tropical sunshine and there was an abundance of flesh on show.

We met in the Battle of Trafalgar with the intention of lunch - but they don't serve it between 3 and 5 - our 'window', because it's quiet "that was the whole point of being here now " I said.

We ended up having a Simply Food Picnic in the station Car Park, which was actually quite nice. They do a range of small complete meals called 'A Taste Of..." - the 'Taste of Britain" had a picture of a London Bus on it - the plastic shrink wrap was mostly fresh air - and apart from a baton of carrot ( not Julienne - that would have been French ) I couldn't identify any of the component parts. I had an egg sandwich instead.