On a Saturday morning I woke up early, walked to Borough market, and spontaneously decided to buy a train ticket to Brighton for a quiet day alone on the beach. I thought, I will get some reading done… perhaps catch some rays. I am wearing a sundress, after all. I bought some dark chocolate for the ride and promptly boarded the train. I only mention the chocolate because I have been unable to forget about it sense; it was the kind that doesn’t melt until it reaches your mouth even in the summer heat. It was the best part of my entire abroad experience.
It was early enough the morning that I found a good seat, but as the ride progressed I noticed that there was an uncanny number of passengers boarding at ever stop, forced to stand piled atop one another. I thought Brighton must be just a general weekend hot spot, no big deal. Won’t ruin my angsty day in literary loneliness. I distracted myself by observing (staring) at a couple sitting directly across from me. I shouldn’t say couple because they didn’t board together, but they most certainly left together. The woman was Spanish and trying to learn English and the man was English and trying to learn her. I don’t know how it all worked out, and try as I did, I saw no coercion in the scenario. Still they ended up holding hands and nuzzling noses and I ended up believing in romance novels.
After arriving in Brighton it became apparent that it would not be a calm day alone on the beach, given that it was pride day. Coincidentally half of my group also decided to come to the Brighton that day, unbeknownst to me. It was, therefore, a much more eventful and memorable day that I had planned.