It's now Sunday 2nd July. We're on the isle of Wight. What am I to do? Post blogs about Brighton and the following day on the White Cliffs of Eastbourne from over a week ago or yesterdays fun filled adventure crossing on the ferry and daring to ride a chair lift down onto the beach below the coloured sands and the needles on the western end of IofW?

O.K., I'm going to set myself the task of catching up on all days missed so far so that we can hit London and then on to the Netherlands on Monday week with nothing oweing.

It's Brighton. We'd arrived on the Monday evening and taken advantage of twilight to stroll the boardwalk …. Well the path along the waterfront.

Tuesday morning we awoke in our "basement" apartment to the bare essentials. The toilet was a small cubicle at the foot of our bed. It was so small, I had to enter, lift lid, sit, spread legs and close the door. No other option, other than bang the door onto kneecaps. The shower; one of the old-fashioned UK ones. Pull a cord to switch on, turn the dial to set pressure and another to set temperature and then wait for a dribble of water. The bathroom stank of mould.

The kitchen; a mini fridge, a kettle and a plastic basin for washing up, a microwave and … well that was about it. The bed was comfortable. O.K., we'll only use the apartment to sleep in. The rest of the time, we'll find things to do in Brighton. I think I've already explained that our apartment is close to the beachfront, so that was a bonus. The Royal Pavilion was about a twenty-minute walk along the main drag that is parallel with the beach road. Most of it was being dug up and repaired and it was teaming with people, mainly locals. My sinusitis had turned into a chest infection; however the only pharmacy was the size of a minimart and the best I could do was buy cough syrup.

On to the Royal Pavilion. I'll leave it to "Britanica" for some background. I could have used Wiki however this is a royal town and palace.

"Brighton was for many centuries nothing more than a tiny fishing community. The site's modern significance dates from 1754, when Richard Russell, the author of a treatise on the health benefits of seawater, settled there to put his theories into practice, thereby initiating the vogue of sea bathing. In 1783 the prince of Wales, later the prince regent and then King George IV, made the first of his many visits to Brighton. His powerful patronage of the locality extended almost continuously to 1827 and stamped the town with the distinguished character still reflected in its Regency squares and terraces. His Royal Pavilion, designed in Indian style with fantastic Chinese interior decorations, was built on the Old Steine, where fishing nets were once dried. The pavilion now houses a museum and art gallery, while the Dome, originally the royal stables, is used for concerts and conferences. Maria Fitzherbert, the secret wife of George IV, is buried in St. John's Roman Catholic church. Victorian Brighton grew rapidly with the opening of the railway (1841) connecting it with London."

As with Versailles, this is Royal O.T.T. on a seismic scale. I'll just post photos in an album for you too see just how O.T.T. it is. Having said this, it is jaw dropping when you enter several of the rooms. Even the kitchen is epic. We've also visited other grand houses where there were secret corridor for the staff to move around the building without their presence offending their betters, however these rooms and corridors are on as grand a scale as the rest of the house.

We spent several hours inside before adjoining to a café around the corner for lunch; Wolfox. It kept something from the door.

The afternoon was spent strolling the beachfront and walking the pier. As with most of the beach side streets, while paint is the paint of preference. With bright sunlight it dazzles and hides the deterioration beneath. The pier is in a very poor state with probably more filler than timber on the buildings. Donuts and icecream for sustenance and then home at around ninish.