BRIGHTON, BY THE SEA

It was the gulls.

Sounds of gulls, swooping and squawking, greeting us in flocks outside Brighton train station, and leading us to the sea.

Between the rows of quaint Georgian establishments that line Queens Road, and much of the town, was the ocean. In the distance, the end of land and the beginning of the big blue - a welcome sight for us coastal dwellers, months stranded in the foul London metropolis.

Brighton. Follow the smell of the sea, and get lost in 'The Lanes'.

'The Lanes', once part of the original settlement in Brighton, are an intricate flurry of narrow alleyways, full of antique shops.

Escape the maze of 'The Lanes', and you arrive at Marine Parade.

Volks Electric Railway runs under your feet below, along the inland edge of Brighton Beach, all the way to Black Rock. But who wants to ride a train, when you can swim?

Or at least walk along the shingle beach. The dull grey and brown pebbles aren't all that inspiring - but there is something quaint about southern England's attempt at a beach, which compliments the old world charm of the rest of the town.

At the eastern end of the beach, stretches Brighton Pier, which opened in 1899. An overpriced fun fair and arcade hall, full of ice cream parlors and roller coasters, it is considerably tacky... still, what did we expect...?

At the opposite end of the beach, stands West Pier, dilapidated and rather melancholy, having been closed since 1975 and awaiting renovation ever since. There is something rather beautiful and desolate about the remains here; perhaps it is simply the stark contrast against the garishness of its sister pier a mile east...

For all its gaudiness, Brighton does offer some interesting art. Wandering backwards through 'The Lanes', and exploring the small streets slightly off the beaten track, we found some cute galleries, many with sea-inspired paintings and sculpture, and all finished with a touch of the Bohemian.

But if all its tawdry entertainments fail, and you've spent all you tuppence playing games on Brigton Pier, eaten too much ice cream and fish and chips, there's still the sea.

Doctors have prescribed patients with sea water from Brighton since the 1750's. And as  we sat there, at sunset, and felt that briny blast of air, fresh against our faces, and smelt the salt of the ocean, we did, just for a day, feel cured.