Break in Brighton

Well, firstly I have to thoroughly recommend the book listed in the previous posting.  One of the few books that has held my attention completely, all the way through, for the last few years.  Well worth recommending.


My trip to Brighton was uneventful until I had to change at Fratton, and there, quite by accident, I met someone who was born and brought up in Tredegar, my home town, and we seem to know a lot of the same people and even went to the same school!  How about that for coincidence?  Whether or not I believe in coincidence or not is the subject for another posting. It was just amazing!

'Myrtle'  My friends home on a 1930's barge.

I will tell you something of the community on the Riverbank at Shoreham-by-Sea. The banks of the river Adur (pronounced Ada) heave and settle at low tide, exposing their riches to the appetites of wildfowl.  This is where I went for my break.  The weather was lovely most of the time; the Riverbank community was fascinating. This is my second visit and the eclectic mix of artists, potters and aging hippies is very Bohemian. Brilliant for 'People Watchers'. On warm summer days this community of houseboat-owners potter about in shorts and swimming costumes, emptying bilges and repairing woodwork like modern day Robinson Crusoe's


These people have cast themselves away from the pre-occupations of home ownership in the traditional way, from mortgages and re-sale values, to live in old torpedo boats and oyster catchers that are no longer sea worthy, moored to the shingle bank that separates Shoreham in Sussex from the sea.  Across the footbridge that spans the estuary in front of them lies the little Victorian town of Shoreham with it's street pavement cafes and old-world shops, such as Ironmongers that still sell loose nails and a fantastic Wool & Craft shop.


This is where reality and fantasy meet.  Is it sane to seek sanctuary from the claustrophobia of the suburbs and have the glistening shallow waters as your view?  Or is it insane to live on a boat that possibly leaks when it rains, where the pumps have to be turned on every time the tide floods the bilges, and you lie awake at night listening to the wind tugging at the moorings when the winter arrives?


Well, I suppose it's a matter of choice.  I don't know that I would be brave enough to take on this way of life, but I certainly take my hat off to people who do!