Brighton to Ashford

This morning we headed for our car to discover a parking ticket. We were apparently displaying the right sort of parking voucher in the wrong sort of parking space. We've appealed. The good news was that our car escaped being towed away the day before we have to return it.

We then went to Brighton Pavilion. From the outside it is sort of Indian looking. The interior ... when I was growing up, a common expression was that a given place "looks like a Chinese brothel". The Prince Regent appears to have designed a building with this description in mind.

The decoration was ALL Chinese and his own activities were dissolute enough to make him thoroughly hated.

We came outside to find the rain was back with a vengeance. In driving rain the satnav decided to take us to Ashford along the narrow lanes of Kent and Sussex (while the Citroen chirrupped and beeped in approval). We drove at 30 or 40 mph with occasional moments of terror as approaching vehicles tried to edge us into the hedgerows.

Starving, we finally found a cafe in Ashford. Here's the thing about English meals of the cheaper sort; they come with chips. We often ordered 1 meal between 2 and yet we have never managed to eat all the chips! Not even this time.

We are having a quiet night in at the hotel. The Chunnel tomorrow - Lyn is very nervous. Then Paris.