Poledancing on the Piccadilly Line

Give us, a night out with MP and DP at MP's sisters house in Sth Harrow (glad to see you back in the land of perenial sunshine MP/DP!), a late night and an empty train carriage and what do you get with Paul and Mel? Poledancing on the Piccadilly line of course topped off with ... shenanigans ... tom foolery and bally hoo!

You see, Vanity Fair said ...

"How to look good in a photo.

Make eye contact with the camera [check!]
Always have mouth slightly open, enough to put a penny between your lips, as this will make your lips look fuller [check!] &
For full eyes, tilt your eyes down and look up just as the shutter is clicked [check!]"

Do you think we perfected the look? Or do we look like seriously inebriated tossers on an empty train at the end of the night trying to pull off some glamour magazine's tips on looking [sic] fabulous?

Oh I do like to be beside the seaside.

Brighton - 060806

9:45am











Right ... we made the train to Brighton, if only just. And I never have been good at rushing - I have been flailing about and cussing all morning. Poor Mel.

My favourite moment, however, was putting two of my ATM cards into two adjacent, automated ticket machines simultaneously entering PINs on the two machines for the two separate transactions. Those years of keyboard playing paid off.








Still, here we are approaching East Croydon on the way to Brighton, on time and in one piece. If a little frazzled.

3:05pm
Brighton is a funny place. An eclectic mix of the bourgeois, the pierced and the gay. On the final count, today is gay pride day, it seems, so we have been seeing much man-to-man and woman-to-woman 'friendliness'.

The beach is not much to write home about (pardon the pun) - in a word: stones. Pebbles if you will. Certainly no sand.






But we do the seaside thing anyway. Check out the Pier, go on the Crazy Mouse, eat a donut etc. But on a morning after a Saturday night, Brighton by the seaside smells of urine.



















But I really came to warm to Brighton once we came off the beach. It has some really quirky shops, never-ending streets and nooks to explore - I am certain we only scratched the surface.

We came across 'English's Cafe' and were hoping to find it again to eat there. Alas, the crannies
got the better of us and while we were tempted to eat at Wei Kika Mu Kow - we have had to settle for Gourmet Burger Kitchen - a chain food store - instead.








Hurrah, say my feet, for the break.

4:50pm
You know what happens ... sit down for a rest and something to eat and then you are ready for a snooze. So we did a little lap of the town and made a silent vow to return to catch up on what we had missed.

And that sums up my feelings about Brighton - not the place by the coast I have come to expect in Australia. Nor was it the patch of perenial sunshine in the south of England I also expected. It is commercial. I do not think I would sun myself on the beach, but it is the first place I would come should I be looking for the company of a man.

Unrelated to the last comment, I will most likley have a hankering to return soon - the shopping, the eateries and the availability of a fast train to Clapham will see to that.

On the trip to Brighton I was prepared with my MP3-laden phone and my movie-laden PDA. Set for the trip, right? Would have been ... 'cept that I did not bring my headphones. Doh! On the return trip, it's WHS Smith (a book store) to the rescue with a copy of Sound-on-Sound for me and a copy of Real for Mel. Sayonara.









Words by Paul. Pictures by Mel.