Brighton

I have spent too much time this week away from home but it is now late on Saturday afternoon and the weather has been almost warm enough for a barbeque. I would be planning one for tomorrow but I have been told that not all mothers want to celebrate their Mothering Sunday with a barbeque. No doubt I will need to wait until Father’s Day.

Monday some of us were in Brighton for the day to provide company for an interview  at the University. I liked Brighton. Just off from the part of the University we were concerned with we found ourselves in The Lanes – a dozen or so tight lanes full of shops selling the sort of things that I like, records and CDs, books about Hüsker Dü and books about fishing, plates and odd bits of cutlery and plenty of places to eat. We had lunch in a place selling Mexican Streetfood. It was a riot of loud bad taste colours starting with the bright red hair of the chap behind the bar who sent us to our seat.

We had got there early (not wanting to be late for the interview at 2.00pm) and there was plenty of room. But within twenty minutes the place was packed and they were pulling in chairs around small tables to squeeze people in.

After the interview we found ourselves a place to drink coffee and hot chocolate. There was just a window out onto the street, a table and two chairs. We sat down and had our drinks with some biscuits. As we talked through the questions the young woman behind the counter asked if we were from Liverpool. We were of course and so she told us that she was from there as well. It seemed to me that all of our accents had been smoothed out.

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