Ol' Brighty 2

Brussels

We wandered over to St Nicolas Catholic Church, with the other peasants

The clergy have won loads of Oscars, must be for their superb acting during all those pedophile court hearings they're always cast in.

Belgium is famous for chocolates, in case you didn't know

It's also famous for beer, fries, waffles, Tintin, Smurfs, and Ester.

Oh yeah, and Brussels is famous for Brussel sprouts of course, those cute little mini cabbages that normal people absolutely love but some weird people hate.

Every single person in Belgium loves Australian Home Made Ice Cream, which they can get all over the place here. And when they're planning trips to Australia they can't wait to get over there and find it on pretty much every street corner and keep gutsing on it.

But when they get to Oz they discover it's nowhere to be found, it doesn't even exist (except in Belgium), and that they've been conned, poor bloody buggers.

Ya wouldn't bloody read about it.

So then they just go back to Brussels and eat pink chocolate and get happy again.

Manu and I waited for an eternity in a queue to jump on the Eurostar, which zips under the French Channel (or the English Channel, as the Poms like to call it), from Brussels to London. Ester patiently waited in line with us, eating German chocolates with us (compliments of Manu) and chatting.

Then we said a sad goodbye to Ester and headed off. It was amazing to hang with her again, what a beautiful kindred spirit.

Manu looking incredibly blissed out, because she loves trains so much and is actually sitting inside one.

Supermarket lunch, just like the old days

French wheatfields

Zipping through Londres

Mon Bradman

Brad collected us from the Brighton railway station.

He's man of my own heart, one of the warmest, most generous and sweetest men in the whole of the cosmos. And, as if that weren’t enough, he also has the best collection of vinyl records in the universe, which kept us both entertained for days on end.

Actually, listening to the vinyls was just one part of the music entertainment. Brad’s extensive and intricate knowledge of the British music scene, from his childhood all the way to now, provided the lion’s share of the fun.

He knows everything about everyone musical. Hawkwind are his heroes, and he can tell you more about them than they could probably remember. He has an anthology of anecdotes, stories and facts about musicians, right on the tip of his tongue, and he told me so much about the scene here, including stories from when he was just a young strapper, going to gigs that blew his mind (more than it already was, due to the kind help of various herbs and spices).

Brad even showed me YouTube clips of Inner City Union gigs from the 80s, where you can see his young glaze-eyed head moshing around with his beautiful girlfriend from that time, Doris, who the camera operator kept focusing on almost as much as the band.

I don’t blame him.

Stepping into Amy and Brad’s house was like coming home. Manu and I felt incredibly welcomed right from the word stop. Amy is Brad’s partner, she's an incredibly interesting, warm and generous woman herself, and made Manu and I feel just like part of the family.

Both of those guys squeezed us into their working lives, and still found time to cook for us, hang out with us, and be the most generous hosts ever.

What a gift to humanity they are.

I stayed in the summer house in the beautiful garden. Manu had her own room inside the house.

A real live home

Part of the pleasure collection

Brad brandishing his own birth certificate, trying to prove he’s human. He’s not. He’s celestial.

I lived in Brighton once upon a time, with Manu's mum, Carmen. In fact, Manu was conceived in our house there, on the very same day that Brad's daughter Maddy was born. Carmen and I were living with Maddy's mum María at the time, and were actually there for the birth. It was beautiful.

Brad reminded me about us all hanging there right after the birth, when I apparently played the song "Blackbird," and after we finished singing an actual blackbird started singing in the garden.

Cosmic.

But that sort of thing's just normal for Brad.

Manu doing her Brighton seagull impersonation

One day we went to visit an old friend Yasmin. It was so great to see her, but she was a little unwell, so our visit was short lived. I even forgot to take a pic.

Yasmine's front garden

There was a horserace meet on at the Brighton racetrack. When that happens they block the road during each race so the horses have enough space to run on after the home straight.

England looks like this

Manu made me pose for this

Radial telegraphy

We walked down to the seafront

Offshore windfarms

Rust never sleeps

The "famous" Brighton Palace Pier

Flying is allowed

Old school kitsch

Brighton Pavilion, built in stages from 1787 by George, the Prince of Wales, who became Prince Regent (the successor to the throne), and then eventually King George IV in 1820. George used to go down to Brighton so he could sneakily hang out with his mistress, Maria Fitzherbert (who, it seems, also fit George). George's physician also advised him that hanging out down at the seaside would be good for his chronic gout, which plagued him constantly, due to his unceasing penchant for a tipple.