We had almost a week of time with grandsons Angus and Dominic in Hove while their parents took a well-earned break in Iceland. A fairly full-on time but we did manage to get out and about once or twice when the boys were in school and nursery.
We do like the architecture in Brighton and Hove – many very gracious terraced apartments, particularly along the seafront, from Victorian and Edwardian periods, dating back to the times when wealthy Londoners came to Brighton for the sea air.
On one of the few fine days we took the bus to Seaford further along the coast, passing through villages with interesting names as we went: Rottingdean, Saltdean, Peacehaven, Newhaven. In the main street of Seaford, a shop selling mobility scooters gave us a clue as to the demographics of the place and the cafes at 11am were packed with what could only be described as old people. (No, no, stop smirking, I mean really old people.) But it is a pretty little village.
We liked the look of a menu in the window of The Grumpy Chef so went in expectantly, only to be told it was the lunch menu which didn’t start until 12 noon (it was about 11:40 and we were peckish and wanting to beat the geriatric scooter rush). You can wait if you like, said the waitress, and I can take your order at about ten to twelve but he’s told me that he won’t be serving it until 12! Well, I guess the clue was in the title. But we were pleasantly surprised when the eponymous gentleman himself brought out our delicious lunches. We could see him approaching from the kitchen with our dishes and although he didn’t appear to be carrying a knife I still half expected a lecture on proper timekeeping. But no, he was charm personified and not only that but he served me the best blonde beer I’ve had in a long time.
The beach is pleasant on a fine day, bounded on both ends by those chalky cliffs that are such a feature of the south coast, but it is very pebbly and hard to walk on without shoes.