We've Got a Ticket to Ride

Today it was time to get out of town and get to the sea. Daniel has been talking at great length about going to the ocean and spending time on the beach. At random places it went something like this:

“When can we go to a beach?”

“Not right now, we’re about to go eat lunch.”

“Why can’t we go to a beach? I want to see the ocean.”

“We can go to a beach, we’re just going to get lunch right now. We’ll go to one soon.”

“I want to go to a beach. When can we go to a beach?”

It was time for a beach. We’ve been walking a lot. Today it was nice to just ride.

Finding the train to Brighton was a bit like “through the park or around the park,” except up the escalator, through the corridor, down the escalator and through the corridor. Preferably not the same escalator and corridor for each step, though they do all look alike. And each corridor branches off three ways with no signs. Except for the Mamma Mia signs the boys scream about. They’ve never seen the musical and have no idea what it is –but they really do like the signs, laughing hysterically and loudly at each one. They also count them. The record is five at one station.

The Brighton Pier is a lot like Chuck E. Cheese’s with freshly caught fish and chips instead of cardboard pizza. Daniel is very distraught every time chips are ordered and arrive as French fries. They keep forgetting to bring him his chips.

Their prize for burning through the games was a Union Jack wristband for each of the boys. One was lost in the first five minutes. Better than a cat toy I suppose.

Pebble beaches hurt really bad for adults to walk on. Kids don’t seem to notice. And sometimes there will be tanks driving through Brighton.

Royal Pavilion, not an Indian restaurant. We'll find one of those later.

This beach ain't for walking

Chuck E. Cheese's on stilts

Vacations are made of this

Life during wartime