The seafront, the seafront

Found yesterday on the seafront: the seafront! This Brighton Fibre van livery - by Chloe Studios - is surely the funnest in the city, and an eye-catching advertisement for a company that says it is ‘Doing Things Differently’. Broadband shouldn’t be complicated, it states: ‘We got rid of everything that nobody needed - no call centres, no datacentres, no contracts. Just fast, fair, and sustainable fibre.’

Brighton Fibre can be considered as a grassroots success story. During the first Covid lockdown, Mark Mason, a local AV/IT professional - began sharing a leased-line connection and a rooftop radio link with neighbours struggling to work from home. He teamed up with Leo Brown, a lifelong telecoms enthusiast who had built networks as a child. Together, they launched the company as a stealth‑mode ISP: a self-funded, locally grown initiative focused on sustainability, technical ingenuity, and community-first broadband.

From the outset, Brighton Fibre distinguished itself by building its own full-fibre network using existing infrastructure - repurposing old ducts, telegraph poles and even 1930s Rediffusion radio-relay channels. The network was designed to be energy efficient and environmentally conscious: nodes are powered by renewable energy and run on single-board computers like Raspberry Pis, consuming less power than boiling a kettle. The company explains that it rejected venture capital, choosing instead to build strategic, community-led partnerships and reinvest revenue back into network development and service quality.

Their rollout began in underserved neighbourhoods such as North Laine, Gardner Street, Moulsecoomb and Bevendean, and from just a few experimental connections, the network expanded rapidly and by early 2024 was servicing over 30,000 premises. Their main network hub sits in the Brighton Digital Exchange at New England House, a cooperative, carrier-neutral data centre established in 2015. While some connections still rely on Openreach duct access, the long-term plan is to shift all links to Brighton Fibre’s own infrastructure.

The brilliant livery on Brighton Fibre’s vans was designed by local illustrator Chloe Batchelor of Chloe Studios. The final wrap was printed and applied by Brighton-based signwriter Mister Phil.

By way of a summary, I asked ChatGPT what makes Brighton Fibre different. ‘It’s more than just technology. It’s the combination of self-built, eco-conscious infrastructure; a deep-rooted local ethos; and an engineering-led culture that prioritises quality over scale. In a world of national monopolies and corporate ISPs, Brighton Fibre is quietly proving that an independent network - powered by recycled cables, renewable energy and community trust - can thrive on the edge of the sea.’

Pining for Sabrina Zembra

‘He began to think that if he passed away from this laughing and murmuring crowd, and went out to the end of the pier, and quietly slipped down into the placid waters, the world would be none the worse for the want of him, and a good deal of heart-sickness would come to an end.’ This is from Sabina Zembra, a lesser known novel set in Brighton by Victorian author William Black.

Black was born in Glasgow in 1841. He initially studied art, but became a reporter for Scottish newspapers. Later, in London, he worked for the Morning Star and Daily News, serving as a war correspondent during Garibaldi’s campaign and the Franco-Prussian War. His breakthrough novel, A Daughter of Heth (1871), marked the start of a prolific literary career. Known for his lyrical prose, romantic plots, and vividly rendered landscapes, he became one of the most widely read novelists of the 1870s and 1880s - see Wikipedia.

Black’s work often balanced sentiment with moral seriousness and featured strong, emotionally intelligent female characters. His best-known novels include The Strange Adventures of a Phaeton (1872), A Princess of Thule (1873), and MacLeod of Dare (1879). Though his popularity waned after his death, in his lifetime he was widely admired, with some critics likening his descriptive power to that of Thomas Hardy or even early Tennyson.

While primarily associated with Scotland and London, Black and his second wife, Eva Simpson, moved to Brighton in 1878 - see The Victorian Web. And Brighton then featured in his 1881 novel, The Beautiful Wretch, and subsequently in Sabina Zembra. In this latter novel, the reflective opening scenes unfold along the town’s seafront and Chain Pier, capturing its blend of gaiety and melancholy. Black actually died in Brighton in 1898 and was buried near the church door of St Margaret's, Rottingdean, close to the grave of Edward Burne-Jones.

Sabina Zembra was first published in 1887 by Macmillan - the full work is freely available to read online at Internet Archive. It explores themes of love, melancholy, and social expectation against the contrasting backdrops of London and the English seaside. The story centres on Walter Lindsay, a sensitive, somewhat disillusioned man who escapes the pressures of life in London by retreating to Brighton. Though surrounded by crowds, he is inwardly solitary, his thoughts haunted by a woman named Sabina Zembra. Sabina is not just a love interest but a symbol of a purer, nobler affection in a world that feels increasingly hollow. As Lindsay wanders through Brighton’s piers and promenades, he contemplates life, despair, and romantic ideals. Here is a passage that opens chapter 15 entitled The Wedding.

‘It was a summer night at Brighton. The tall house-fronts were gray and wan against the crimson and yellow still lingering in the north-western heavens; but far away over the sea, to the south-east, there dwelt a golden moon in a sky of pale rose-purple; and the moonlight that fell on the wide waters was soft and shimmering, until it gleamed sharp and vivid where the ripples broke on the beach. Here and there the stars of the gas lamps began to tell in the twilight. There was a faint murmur of talking; young girls in their summer costumes went by, with laughter and jest; there was an open window, and somebody within a brilliantly lit drawing-room was singing - in a voice not very loud but still audible to such of the passers-by as happened to pause and listen - an old Silesian air. It was about a lover, and a broken ring, and the sound of a mill-wheel.

Walter Lindsay was among these casual listeners - for a minute or two; and then he went on, with some curious fancies in his head. Not that any young maiden had deceived him, or that he was particularly anxious to find rest in the grave; for this is the latter half of the nineteenth century, and he, as well as others, knew that Wertherism [morbid sentimentality, regarded as characteristic of Werther, the hero of Goethe’s romance] was now considered ridiculous. But somehow London had become intolerable to him; and he could not work; and - well, Brighton was the nearest place to get away to, while one was considering further plans. It was a little lonely, it is true; especially on these summer evenings, when all the world seemed, as it were, to be murmuring in happiness.

Over there was the Chain Pier. A few golden points - gas lamps - glimmered on it; and beyond it there was a small boat, the sail of which caught the last dusky-red light from the sunset, and looked ghostly on the darkening plain. In that direction peace seemed to lie. He began to think that if he passed away from this laughing and murmuring crowd, and went out to the end of the pier, and quietly slipped down into the placid waters, the world would be none the worse for the want of him, and a good deal of heart-sickness would come to an end. He did not really contemplate suicide; it was a mere fancy. Killing oneself for love is not known nowadays, except among clerks and shop-lads; and then it is generally prefaced by cutting a young woman’s throat, which is unpleasant. No, it was a mere fancy that haunted him, and not in a too mournful fashion.’

14,000 cyclists on Madeira Drive

It is the British Heart Foundation’s London to Brighton Bike Ride today, and up to 14,000 cyclists and many supporting friends and family are descending on Brighton Beach’s Madeira Drive. The ride is one of the largest mass-participation cycling events in the country, and it is surely the longest-running - next year it will be celebrating its half century.

First staged in 1976, the London to Brighton Bike Ride has become a summer institution, attracting a broad range of riders - from seasoned club cyclists to families on vintage tandems - all pedalling the 54-mile route from Clapham Common to Madeira Drive. Over the decades, it is estimated more than 650,000 people have completed the ride, raising in excess of £50 million for heart disease research and patient support. Organised with rolling road closures and medical and mechanical support along the route, it’s a rare opportunity for cyclists to experience a fully marshalled ride through London, Surrey and the Sussex countryside.

A signature feature of the ride is the infamous Ditchling Beacon, a mile-long climb near the finish that has become a rite of passage for many riders. With gradients reaching 16%, it’s a test of strength and spirit, all the more memorable for the crowds of volunteers and supporters who line its verges each June, ringing cowbells and cheering even the weariest cyclists to the summit. In 1994 and 2014, the climb briefly gained wider fame when it was included in the Tour de France’s visits to the UK.

Over the years, the ride has drawn a colourful mix of participants and transport. In 2016, Sussex man Alex Orchin completed the ride on a 130-year-old penny farthing, raising funds for the British Heart Foundation and turning heads along the route. Riders have also tackled the 54-mile course on unicycles, tandems, post office bikes, and folding commuters, with reports of such appearances dating back to the early 1980s. Though often slower than the pack, these unconventional entrants have long been part of the event’s inclusive and good-humoured spirit.

In recent years, participation numbers have fluctuated, partly due to the pandemic, which led to the cancellation of the event in 2020 and reduced entries in subsequent years. In 2024, around 12,000 cyclists took part - a significant rebound - and this year the ride is on track to be one of the most successful with over £1m raised. Much of the money, the organisers say, goes towards pioneering research into heart failure, congenital heart disease and genetic conditions affecting the cardiovascular system.

Together Co at the pier

Brighton-based charity Together Co is hitting the road today with a vibrant citywide bus roadshow marking 25 years of tackling loneliness and building community connections in Brighton & Hove. The one-day celebration, part of the charity’s #ConnectIn25 campaign, coincides with Loneliness Awareness Week and aims to put ‘social health’ - the ability to form meaningful relationships - firmly on the public agenda.

In partnership with Brighton & Hove Buses, the roadshow features a specially designed, beach-themed double-decker bus that doubles as a mobile community hub. Fully accessible and dementia-friendly, the bus will stop at key locations across the city including Moulsecoomb, Whitehawk, Churchill Square, and culminate at Brighton Palace Pier (where these photos were taken).

Television presenter and Together Co ambassador Gail Porter will join charity staff, volunteers and community partners along the route. Visitors are invited to climb aboard for a chat, learn more about Together Co’s work, or find out how to get involved as a volunteer. Founded in 1999, Together Co has supported thousands across Brighton & Hove through befriending, social prescribing and volunteering programmes.

Its work, the organisation says, has never been more relevant, with recent research showing that nearly half of adults in England experience feelings of loneliness at some point. Together Co CEO April Baker said, ‘This roadshow is about Together Co being out in the community, on the move, meeting people where they are. We want to celebrate what we have achieved with the help of our volunteers and supporters over the past 25 years, and to invite everyone to be a part of what comes next.’

Together Co is always looking for new ways to spread its message. In April 2024, to celebrate the Grand’s 160th anniversary, Together Co hosted an afternoon tea at the iconic hotel. It attracted 160 guests and performances including the Brighton Welsh Male Voice Choir. In November, it is celebrating its 25th anniversary with a gala on the pier. This will be themed, appropriately, as ‘All the Fun of the Fair’ - think Moulin Rouge meets Cabaret, it suggests. 

End of the Pier Show

A new chapter in Brighton Beach entertainment - or rather an old chapter renewed - is set to open in Brighton this summer, according to the Brighton and Hove News. The Palace Pier Performers - led by local panto favourites Allison Ferns and Jack Pallister - are preparing to revive a once popular theatre genre - The End of the Pier Show - on Brighton Palace Pier. 

Auditions, described as ‘a kind of Brighton’s got talent,’ will take place on 1 July at Horatio’s, with the first performance scheduled for 11 August and a run through 22 August. According to Brighton and Hove News, the organisers promise a contemporary twist on the classic variety format, seeking dynamic performers who can sing, dance, and act, and emphasising inclusivity for applicants of all backgrounds. Anne Ackord, chief executive of the pier was quoted as saying: ‘I am delighted to both revisit the past and create new memories for today’s visitors with the return of the iconic end of pier entertainment.’

Allison Ferns reflected: ‘My first ever proper job was on the Palace Pier selling seafood and Brighton rock and so it feels really special to be back here. In fact, I’m very much going back to my roots as my first ever performing job was in an end of the pier show in Eastbourne.’

This revival draws on a rich tradition that began in the late Victorian era, when pleasure piers across Britain built theatres at their seaward ends to host variety shows for holidaymakers. End of the pier shows became a hallmark of the British seaside, offering affordable entertainment that mixed comedy, music, dance, and novelty acts for generations of visitors. Though their popularity declined with changing holiday habits in the late 20th century, the format remains a cherished part of coastal culture.

Indeed, today, such anachronistic entertainment has largely disappeared. The Cromer Pier Show with over 70,000 visitors annually is a rare exception - this publicity still (!) can be found at the DayVisits website. 

Marrocco’s and the dawn of TripAdvisor

Fifteen years ago, in June 2010, a TripAdvisor user named Candyjo quietly posted what remains one of the earliest - and most charming - online restaurant reviews in the UK. Her destination was Marrocco’s, the family-run Italian institution on Hove’s seafront. At the time, hers was the only review for the year - only the second in total. Today, there are nearly a thousand.

Founded in 1969 by the Marrocco family, the Brighton Beach business began as a gelateria serving homemade Italian ice cream prepared fresh each morning. Over the decades it evolved into a full restaurant, offering fresh seafood, pasta and grills in a close-knit, cheerful setting. The heart of the operation remains the same: a warm welcome, an open kitchen, and food made with care.

TripAdvisor, meanwhile, was just beginning to take root in the UK dining scene. Although the platform launched in the US in 2000, its early growth in Britain was slower. In 2010, most independent restaurants still relied on word-of-mouth, and online reviews were more novelty than norm. This is what makes Candyjo’s post feel like a time capsule. 

She wrote in June 2010: ‘If you go here (please don’t - I like to be able to get a table) you need to accept that it’s a small, family-run place where they cook the food in an open kitchen that might be right by your elbow, and if they’re too busy then you’ll have to wait, and if you take longer than usual over your starter that might mess up the timing a bit but that what you get is authentic, fresh and delicious.

I had the crab linguine - a whole spider crab so not a huge amount of meat, and very messy of course what with pincers and extractors etc - it was already chopped up a bit, the pasta spilled from the shell like a piece of art - it was beautiful. Am I being too effusive? Probably. It’s just so rare to get food this good, that looks this good and that I can afford (£11.95). The pasta sauce included fresh cherry tomatoes to die for, a hint of heat (chilli), perfect.

My companion had a whole, huge sea bass, grilled perfectly. Same price; it came with chips. The tables are closely packed and if it’s busy it’s noisy. There are children, who might possibly run around were there room to but there isn’t. There are grandparents, business people, couples, friends; often they seem to be Italian which seems a good thing. The staff are friendly and knowledgeable.

Perhaps you should go with the idea that it’s a café that serves fab food (and with ‘greasy spoon’ cafes charging perhaps £7 or £8 for a plate of breakfast, this is a bargain in comparison). Get a bottle of wine, linger. Then walk along the seafront towards the dreamy sunset and remember that city living can have its advantages.

I don’t especially like the ice cream (not sweet enough for me) but I don’t go there for that. Though I did share an ice cream ‘cocktail’ thing (banana split?) once and it was good.’

Fifteen years later, the heart of that review still beats. The prices may have changed, but the atmosphere, the setting and the charm of Marrocco’s continue to draw locals and visitors alike. Candyjo’s post wasn’t just an early review - it was a small piece of Brighton food history, lovingly written, and now part of the restaurant’s long and ongoing story.

New Nuun beach run

Today saw the debut of the Nuun BRIGHTON TEN & FREE Foundation 5K, a two-part running event bringing a new blend of competition and inclusivity to Brighton’s seafront. Organised by RunThrough Events and its non-profit arm, the RunThrough Foundation, the day’s races highlighted two distinct aims: one focused on performance over a new 10-mile distance, the other offering a completely free, accessible route into running for local communities.

The Nuun BRIGHTON TEN, a 10-mile closed-road race, began at 9:00am on Madeira Drive, near Brighton Marina. The course was flat, fast and scenic, with chip-timed results, three water stations, and energy gel support at mile six. Entry cost £40, or £52 for those opting to include a sustainable tech t-shirt. All finishers received a medal, refreshments, and free event photography.

The second event, the FREE Foundation 5K, started shortly after at 9:20am and was open to participants via a free-entry ballot. Ballot places were allocated in three stages during April and May, with priority given to underrepresented communities, including low-income households and first-time runners. The 5K route also followed the coast, and participants enjoyed the same finish-line support, safety infrastructure, and festive atmosphere as the 10-mile field.

Though held on the same day, the two events were organised by different wings of the same company. RunThrough Events, founded in 2013 by former international athletes Matt Wood and Ben Green, has grown into one of the UK’s most prolific race organisers, delivering more than 200 events per year across the country. From its roots in a 300-person 10K at Bushy Park, the company has expanded to include half marathons, virtual races, and the launch of RunThrough Kit, an apparel line. Their events are known for strong logistics, welcoming atmospheres and iconic UK venues.

The FREE Foundation 5K, meanwhile, is the product of the RunThrough Foundation, launched in 2023 to remove barriers to distance running. Its mission is to make road racing accessible to all by offering free, closed-road events, especially in communities that might otherwise face economic or social exclusion. The foundation held its first large-scale race at Warrington in 2023, with over 30% of participants running their first-ever event. It followed up with a free London 10K in December 2024. Each event is coupled with year-round community training and support, working in partnership with councils, charities and local groups to leave a lasting impact.

Together, the two Brighton races represent a new approach to running events: one that preserves the structure and ambition of traditional racing while opening the sport to new audiences. Whether chasing a personal best or completing a first run, participants at today’s Brighton TEN and FREE Foundation 5K helped launch what looks set to become a major fixture in the city’s sporting calendar.

Incidentally, Nuun, pronounced ‘Noon’, describes itself as ‘the first company to separate electrolyte replacement from carbohydrates.’ The result, it says, was ‘a healthy, hydrating beverage without all of the extra sugar and additives’. Over a decade later, Nuun Hydration markets itself as ‘hydrating the planet one runner, surfer, cyclist, mother, yogi, hula hooper at a time (the list goes on…)!’

Monster moaning

Oh, sure - laugh it up. Take your selfies, poke my chest, comment on my ‘classic look’. I’ve stood here on this splintered pier through wind, rain, stag dos, hen parties, and the occasional rogue seagull attack, and not once has anyone thought to ask how I feel. I’m Frankenstein’s MONSTER, damn it. Not a prop. Not a photo op. A BEING stitched from human remains and existential dread - and yet somehow, I’ve become a mascot for your wretched seaside giddiness.

Every day, thousands of you shuffle past, sticky with candy floss, reeking of sunblock and regret, funnelling into the haunted house behind me like sheep queueing for a predictable fright. ‘Ooh, spooky!’ you say. Is it? Is it really? I’ve seen scarier things in your pop culture. You’ve got real monsters now - algorithmic surveillance, climate collapse, influencers. But no, you want a 1950s rubber mask and a few jump-scares. That’s enough horror for your Instagram.

And don’t get me started on the paint. Who keeps giving me these slapdash touch-ups? I look like someone tried to fix a Renaissance fresco with emulsion and a plastic spoon. My hands are scuffed, my bolts are rusted, and my suit - my suit - was once the pinnacle of stitched-together sophistication. Now I look like a bouncer at a discount Halloween disco.

I hear your conversations. I do. ‘Look, it’s Frankenstein!’ No. Wrong. Frankenstein was the doctor. I am the nameless creation, the wretched patchwork soul who wandered the Alps questioning the morality of man. But go ahead - reduce me to a misunderstood Halloween cliché, why don’t you?

And what is this cursed playlist on the pier? I’ve listened to ‘Agadoo’ more times than I’ve contemplated mortality. Which is saying something. You think eternal life is glamorous? Try standing motionless next to a coin-operated skeleton that laughs every time a child screams. I once pondered the ethics of divine creation. Now I know the true abyss: karaoke night on a bank holiday Monday.

Do I get a break? A moment of stillness? No. Just endless photos, drunks trying to grope me for laughs, and the seagulls - God, the seagulls. I was struck by lightning to be brought to life, and now I live in constant fear of bird droppings and chip theft.

So yes, I’m angry. I deserve better. I deserve a gallery, a plinth, a plaque explaining my tragic origins. Not this rotting boardwalk of flashing lights and bubblegum detritus. Well, fine. Take your photo, but just so you know, my true creator, Mary Shelley, is turning, eternally, agonisingly in her grave.

Beside the Sea

Brighton’s 2025 Beside the Sea exhibition, running from May through September, features works by renowned photographers Martin Parr and JJ Waller, with a particular focus on Waller’s intimate and playful portrayal of Brighton Beach. The exhibition is presented in three distinct venues: the Hove Museum of Creativity, The Seafront Gallery, and, most strikingly, on the roofs of Brighton’s bus shelters (which, according to the organisers, is a world first).

JJ Waller, a British documentary photographer born and raised in Brighton, is well known locally for his portraits of people in Brighton and other coastal towns such as St Leonards-on-Sea and Blackpool. His images capture the spirit of Brighton Beach, a place celebrated for its freedom, eccentricity, and everyday spectacle. Waller’s photographs depict children with ice cream-smeared faces, sunbathers asleep on the pebbles, and the curious mix of visitors in various states of undress, all contributing to a rich visual record of seaside life. 

Drawing on his background in performance and theatre, Waller blends candid moments with a staged quality, highlighting the ritual and rhythm of the beach without losing sight of humour and humanity. His recent work, including widely praised Covid-19 lockdown portraits of Sussex residents taken through their windows, has brought him national recognition and was even edited into a collection by Martin Parr.

The Beside the Sea exhibition breaks new ground by presenting over 65 large-scale photographs some pasted flat onto the roofs of 30 bus shelters across Brighton, visible only from the top deck of a double-decker bus. This innovative approach transforms everyday journeys into art experiences, integrating photography into the city’s fabric and making the exhibition accessible to all with a bus ticket or pass. Waller, inspired by childhood memories of bus rides with his mother, sees this as a unique way to open up new exhibition spaces and reach audiences who might not typically visit galleries. He describes the collaboration with Parr, who is exhibiting in Brighton for the first time, as a dream come true, likening it to a young musician sharing a double album with legends like Bowie or McCartney.

In addition to the bus shelter installations, the exhibition is anchored at the Hove Museum of Creativity and The Seafront Gallery, where visitors can enjoy classic and rarely seen seaside photographs in more traditional gallery settings. The gallery, located on the lower esplanade by the West Pier spiral, offers an enhanced experience for those promenading along the beach, blending art with the everyday seaside environment. While Martin Parr’s contributions add national context and depth with images from his iconic Last Resort series and other archives, it is JJ Waller’s local focus and playful sensibility that give Beside the Sea its distinctly Brightonian flavour. 

Guest: Brighton Beach, Brooklyn, New York

Brighton Beach, Brooklyn, is arguably the second most famous Brighton Beach in the world. Named in the late 19th century by developers, it quickly took on a life of its own. The name refers not only to the beach itself but to the surrounding neighbourhood, a vibrant enclave that has evolved dramatically over time.

Originally marshland on the southern fringe of Brooklyn, in the 1870s, Brighton Beach was transformed - initially by the energy of entrepreneur William Engeman - into a fashionable destination. The grand Brighton Beach Hotel, built on 400 pilings driven into the sand, opened in 1878. It promised New York’s affluent classes an elegant retreat by the sea, with live orchestras, gas lighting, and fresh ocean breezes.

By the late 1880s, however, the hotel faced a serious threat: the Atlantic Ocean was steadily eroding the shoreline, bringing waves perilously close to the hotel’s foundation. To save the structure, in 1888, Engeman’s son (also William) invested in a remarkable engineering feat: the entire building, estimated to weigh eight million pounds, was lifted onto 112 railroad flatcars laid across 24 tracks and moved approximately 600 feet inland using six steam locomotives. The operation, completed over ten days, was hailed as the largest building move of the 19th century and ensured the hotel’s survival until its demolition in 1924. Much more about the local history can be found at this Coney Island website or Wikipedia.

Since 1878, the area had been linked by rail, making day trips to the beach feasible for the city’s growing middle class. Nevertheless, as the early 20th century progressed, the resort atmosphere began to wane, and Brighton Beach became more of a year-round residential community, though still offering summer relief to generations of families who could not afford more distant holiday vacations. The sandy shore, gently sloping into the Atlantic, was less garish than neighbouring Coney Island and drew a quieter crowd. The famous Riegelmann Boardwalk, dating from 1923, which connects Brighton Beach to Coney Island westward and Manhattan Beach eastward, became - and has remained - a place for promenading, gossiping, and people-watching.

Brighton Beach gained a new identity in the 1970s and 1980s with the arrival of thousands of Jewish immigrants from the collapsing Soviet Union. The beach was suddenly lined with voices speaking Russian, Ukrainian, and Uzbek. Delis and dumpling shops sprang up alongside the boardwalk, and signs appeared in Cyrillic. The neighbourhood gained the nickname ‘Little Odessa’, but the beach never lost its public character. It remained open to all, from families playing dominoes under beach umbrellas to sunbathers from across the boroughs. Hurricane Sandy in 2012 brought flooding and damage, but the community and city worked to restore the coastline, reinforcing dunes and shoring up flood defences.

Neil Simon’s semi-autobiographical play Brighton Beach Memoirs brought some attention to the locale. Published in 1982, it was set in the 1930s. In 1983, it received the New York Drama Critics’ Circle Award for Best Play. Some 40 years later, in 2024, the beach stepped into a brighter spotlight with the release of Anora, an Oscar-winning film that made effective use of the location’s gritty warmth and visual character, with scenes filmed on the boardwalk and beach.

Check out Brooklyn Magazine’s Insider Guide to Brighton Beach if you’re planning a visit.

Basketball upgrade for beach

A newly refurbished basketball court on Brighton Beach officially reopens today, following a major upgrade funded by Brighton & Hove City Council with support from Foot Locker and the Hoopsfix Foundation. The court has been extended in size and features a vibrant pink and blue design by Sam Sure of Half Decent Day. New equipment includes regulation-size Perspex backboards, spring-loaded rings, and a fresh playing surface with FIBA-standard markings.

The court’s relaunch (on this rather misty day) is being celebrated with a free public event, including coaching sessions for children, exhibition games, a slam dunk show, music, and giveaways, and will be followed by a new schedule of regular tournaments and competitions set to take place at the site (in partnership with Hoopsfix).

The improvements were guided by a public consultation in which over 500 people participated. The overwhelming majority supported the upgrades, with 98% requesting new hoops and 86% asking for a larger court. In response, the court was lengthened by four metres and widened by two metres to better serve the growing number of basketball enthusiasts in the area.

Council leaders and project partners have praised the collaborative effort. Councillor Alan Robins said the court’s popularity reflects the national rise in basketball participation, especially among young people. Sam Neter of Hoopsfix described the court as one of the UK’s most iconic.

Brighton’s most prominent basketball connection is the Brighton Bears. Originally established in 1973, the team became a powerhouse in British basketball, playing under the Brighton Bears name until 1984 before relocating to Worthing and becoming the Worthing Bears. The team returned to Brighton in 1999, competing at the Brighton Centre - just a short walk from the beach - and quickly re-established itself as a top-flight team in the British Basketball League (BBL). 

Under the leadership of coach Nick Nurse, who later led the Toronto Raptors to an NBA championship, the Bears enjoyed a successful run from 2001 to 2006, winning the BBL Championship in the 2002-03 season and the BBL Cup in 2004-05. It gained international attention in 2006 by signing NBA Hall of Famer Dennis Rodman for a brief stint. The franchise folded later that year, and efforts to revive elite basketball in Brighton faced challenges, with the BBL favouring Worthing Thunder for a franchise slot. However, the Bears’ legacy lives on through a new club established in 2014 in nearby Lancing, West Sussex, initially called the Sussex Bears but since 2022 known again as the Brighton Bears. See also Wikipedia.

The faintest and purest blue

It is 110 years since Eric Cyril Egerton Leadbitter published his first novel, Rain Before Seven, partially set in Brighton where the ‘dazzling sea [. . .] tumbles in white foam over the shingle’ and where the sea can be ‘washed [. . .] to the faintest and purest blue’. Little seems to be remembered of Leadbitter, though he seems to have abandoned a promising literary talent for a career in the civil service.

He was born in 1891, possibly in Hexham, and educated at Shrewsbury, but his early life and education are otherwise barely documented in public records. He began a literary career during World War I, publishing a series of novels that reflected the themes and styles of his era: Rain Before Seven (1915), The Road to Nowhere (1916), Perpetual Fires (1918), Shepherd’s Warning (1921), Dead Reckoning (1922), and The Evil that Men Do (1923). Wikipedia lists only these six novels for him, and, similarly, the British Library catalogue has only these same six titles.

Thereafter, Leadbitter built a distinguished career in the British civil service. Who Was Who lists Tunbridge Wells as his place of residence. In 1937, he was appointed Commander of the Royal Victorian Order (CVO), an honour recognising his service to the Crown. His most significant administrative role came in 1942, when he was appointed Clerk of the Privy Council, a senior position he held until 1951. During his tenure, he was knighted as a Knight Bachelor in 1946 and, in 1951, was promoted to Knight Commander of the Royal Victorian Order (KCVO), reflecting the high regard in which he was held within government circles.

On the personal front, Leadbitter married Irene Lloyd in 1918, though there seems to be no public information regarding his family life and whether he had children. He died in 1971. 

Rain Before Seven was first published in 1915 by G. Allen & Unwin. The story follows a young boy named Michael as he prepares to leave home for the first time. The narrative explores Michael’s emotions and experiences leading up to his departure, including his relationships with family members, his imagination, and his fears about the future. The book is divided into three parts: The Idle Apprentice, Obscurity and Enlightenment, and the US edition (1920) can be freely read online at Internet Archive. Incidentally, several books with the same title have appeared over the years, most likely because of the popularity of the traditional weather lore ‘Rain before seven, fine before eleven’.

The following extract about Brighton is taken from Leadbitter’s Rain Before Seven, chapter XXVI entitled The Prodigal Brother.

‘Brighton is a most deceptive town; the hints that it gives of its past are as little to be relied upon as those of certain of its lady visitors when they are in reminiscent mood. To a visitor who is enterprising enough to explore them, the little by-streets that lead from the Western Road appear to belong to a past when the town slept the sleep of gentle Georgian cathedral cities, untainted by the neighbouring metropolis. There are strangely huddled little houses that might date from an innocent youth that touched hands with the medievals. Nevertheless, as every Londoner and many natives know, a century ago nothing except a fishing village lay at the foot of the cliffs where Brighton with her flaunting pride now stands. Evil fairies attended her christening; George of ill-repute was her sponsor, and she has never thrown off the shadow of her early influences. Brighton with all her witchery is the British Paris; she is the pleasure suburb where Londoners pursue their vices in secrecy. But who can resist the witchery of the air? the dry and sunny wind, and the dazzling sea that tumbles in white foam over the shingle? Not, at any rate, a group of young people who were passing along the front one sunny April morning, a year later than the events recorded in the last chapter, with the brisk and ecstatic walk that vouches for an early bathe behind, and a voracious appetite for a breakfast to come. The previous day had been stormy, and mists of rain had washed the sea to the faintest and purest blue. On the foreshore, a few figures were bending over the pebbles, searching for the small treasures that a heavy sea like that of the preceding day usually unearthed. The party on the promenade stopped to watch them, and one of the girls asked her companion what they were doing.

“I don’t know much about it,” he replied, “but I have an idea they are called beach-combers, or something. They rake up old sixpences and things among the stones.”

“How exciting! I suppose they are always hoping to find a wonderful buried treasure. Rosie!” she called to an older girl who was behind her, “what do you say to having a shot at it?” ’

[NB: The portrait of Leadbitter has been screenshot from the National Portrait Gallery website.]

Korwar’s Percussion Parade

Yesterday, 25 May and the last day of the city’s May festival, Brighton Beach was pulsing with rhythm and colour as acclaimed percussionist Sarathy Korwar led an exuberant 30-piece band in Percussion Parade, a vibrant celebration of multicultural music.

Korwar - an award-winning drummer, composer, and bandleader - is renowned for his innovative fusion of jazz, Indian classical music, and contemporary sounds. Born in the US, he grew up in Ahmedabad and Chennai, India, where he began studying tabla at the age of 10. His early musical influences included Indian folk songs and American jazz artists like Ahmad Jamal and John Coltrane. At 17, he moved to Pune to study Environmental Science but ultimately dedicated himself to music, training under tabla maestro Rajeev Devasthali and expanding his skills to the Western drum kit. 

In 2009, Korwar relocated to London, earning a Master’s degree in Performance from SOAS, University of London, where he focused on adapting Indian classical rhythms to non-Indian percussion instruments. His debut album, Day To Day (2016), released on Ninja Tune, blended field recordings of the Siddi community in India with contemporary jazz and electronic music. His 2019 album, More Arriving, featured collaborations with South Asian rappers and poets, addressing themes of immigration and identity; it received critical acclaim and won Best Independent Album at the AIM Awards in 2020. In 2022, he released KALAK, an album exploring ‘Indo-futurism’ and cyclical time concepts, which was lauded by critics and featured in several year-end best album lists.

For Percussion Parade, Korwar assembled a 30-piece band featuring some of the southeast’s finest young musicians, brought together by Create Music. The ensemble performed music specially composed for the festival, blending influences from futuristic folk, South Asian temple processions, UK carnivals, and traditional marching bands. A large number of spectators gathered nearby the Piazza and the West Pier Spiral to listen to the thunder of drums, the shimmer of cymbals, and the infectious energy of a community united through rhythm. 

Hazel by the sea

Forgive this lapse into the personal but today the most important event occurring across the whole length of Brighton Beach has been a visit by Hazel, Hazel Lyons, my first and most beautiful granddaughter. In keeping with recent family tradition she was carried across the pebbles to be as near to the water as possible and there given a secular blessing on her forehead. As it happens, Hazel is 74 days old today, and I am 74 years old.

I have three sons. Adam is the oldest, born back in 1987. He married Greta last year, and Hazel was born in March (it is her visit to Brighton today, and to the beach, that has moved me to fill this blog post with family photographs). I got together with Hattie in 2007, and we’ve had two boys, JG and Albert, born in 2009 and 2011 respectively. Both were taken to the sea when only a few weeks old - here are my diary entries from those moments.

9 January 2009

‘It was the most beautiful day, the sun shining and brilliant, the sea blue, and the air less cold than of late. Once there, we all three went on to the pebbles, and [. . .] then I took you down to the sea, and dipped your tiny hand in the water, and after that your mother and I crossed some sea water on your forehead and named you Jake Gordon Lyons.’

19 July 2011

‘Today, JG being at nursery, and the weather being fine, we three [Hat, Albert and myself] all cycled down to the beach. This was Hat’s first time on the beach since Albert was born; it was Albert’s first time ever on the beach; it was also the first time he’d travelled with me on the bicycle. There weren’t many people on the beach. I had a swim, and then we took Albert down to the water line, where only gentle waves were lapping, and we baptised him, with a little sprinkle of sea water on his forehead, naming him Albert Zorro Gordon Lyons. Hat took some photos to mark occasion.’

25 May 2025

‘Hazel is such a joy, happy and alert, eyes wide and blue, smiling. After lunch we all bussed down to the seafront, Albert and I sharing pram-pushing duties. Hazel remained asleep as we carried the pushchair across the pebbles, and we let her sleep for a while, but I was keen to take her down to the water, and snap a few photos. She was as calm as could be when I gently woke her and lifted her into my arms. The tide was out so we needed to stand on the sand to get near the water line. Albert asked me if I was going to wet a cross on Hazel’s forehead, I said I was. He suggested instead that I do a smiley face, but Adam and I said he should do it - which he did.’

Charles II and Pepys on the quarterdeck

23 May 1660: the day Brighton made its first appearance in a diary (albeit not by name), and not just any diary, but THE diary - the one kept by Samuel Pepys, the most famous diarist in the English language. That day, aboard a ship bringing Charles II back from exile to claim the throne, Pepys listened spellbound as the King paced the quarterdeck, recounting a harrowing escape that had taken him - nearly a decade earlier - through the Sussex coast and within a pebble’s toss of Brighton Beach.

Pepys’ journal entry for that day overflows with drama. The King and a retinue of royals had boarded the fleet in the Netherlands, greeted with ‘infinite shooting off of the guns.’ The King, rather than playing the aloof monarch, surprised Pepys by walking ‘up and down,’ full of energy, and launching into vivid stories of his flight from the Battle of Worcester in 1651.

After the Royalist defeat at Worcester, Charles II was a fugitive in his own country. Hiding in priest holes, haylofts, and famously in an oak tree at Boscobel, he eluded capture for six weeks. Travelling in disguise, he trudged through mud ‘with nothing but a green coat and a pair of country breeches,’ his feet rubbed raw by peasant shoes. His journey led him through Sussex, staying in Arundel and Beeding, and then - on 14 October - to ‘another place’. Although not named, the place was certainly Brighthelmstone, as Brighton was then called.

According to the King’s own account, recorded by Pepys in a later narrative, he met his escape vessel’s captain, Nicholas Tettersell, at an inn - most likely The George in Middle Street. The ship lay waiting at Shoreham. Although Tettersell recognised Charles immediately (‘he is the king, and I very well know him’), he agreed to help, later earning a royal pension and the honour of having his ship, Surprise, renamed The Royal Escape.

There, in that Brighton inn, surrounded by loyalists and strangers alike, Charles drank beer, smoked tobacco, and gambled that he could trust the landlord - who quietly knelt and kissed his hand. At 4 am, they rode to Shoreham and boarded the small vessel. As Charles later told it, he lay low in the cabin until the tide rose enough to carry them across the Channel to safety.

That same escape would later inspire two commemorations: the 615-mile Monarch’s Way long-distance footpath tracing his route from Worcester to Shoreham, and the annual Royal Escape Race - a modern yacht event retracing his dash to France.

So what of Pepys? His diary began on New Year’s Day 1660 and ran for nine momentous years. He was aboard the ship that day not just as a chronicler, but as part of the Admiralty team. That his journal should contain Brighton’s earliest known diary mention seems fitting, given his flair for blending personal anecdote with sweeping historical detail. He wrote of that 23 May - 365 years ago today - ‘The King . . . fell into discourse of his escape from Worcester . . . made me ready to weep to hear the stories that he told. . .’

[This article was largely sourced from my book Brighton in Diaries (History Press, 2011). The topmost picture was created using Bing, and the lower picture is a copy of a 1911 print - Samuel Pepys and King Charles II - by Robert Spence found on the website of The Australian National Gallery of Victoria.]

Hove Beach Park opens

It’s big news for Brighton Beach that Hove Beach Park has been officially opened - by the mayor Mohammed Asaduzzaman and council leader Bella Sankey. Stretching from the King Alfred Leisure Centre to Hove Lagoon, the new park - the first in the city for 100 years, claims Sankey - has been built across Hove’s Western Lawns, an area which for a century has been little more than a series of lawned rectangles. 

The first section of the £13.7m park - opened last September and included a skatepark, pump track and roller area. Since then the council has added padel and tennis courts, gardens and new pathways, and an outdoor sports hub, café and public toilets - see Not the Mary Clarke Park. The existing croquet and bowls lawns have also reopened - a sand sports area is expected to follow by August.

In a press release, the Council quoted Sankey as stating: ‘This project has been evolving since 2018 through the work of local community organisations, particularly West Hove Seafront Action Group and West Hove Forum. Working in partnership, we identified underused facilities and green spaces on the seafront and developed a plan to reinvigorate this key area of the city. The result is a linear park with attractive spaces, better biodiversity and a range of recreational activities for residents and visitors of all ages to enjoy.’

Brighton and Hove News reported on the opening ceremony last Friday, as did BBC Sussex. In celebration of the opening, several events were organised over the weekend: padel games with coaches on hand, an introductory bowls session, a jam session in the skatepark and pump track area, and a croquet drop-in session.

Rotten decking anniversary

It is, today, the 10th anniversary of the day the news broke - in The Argus, where else - that the leg of a teenager (ironically called Megan Wood) ‘went plunging’ through the Palace Pier wooden decking. The story has been immortalised by the National Piers Society which includes the event in its potted history of the Palace Pier. I can find no other source for the story so I will have to rely almost entirely on (i.e. plagiarise) the Argus piece (inc. its photographs).

According to the Argus reporter Adrian Imms, Wood, a 19 year old from Portslade, was out for a stroll with her friends on the Palace Pier when the mishap occurred, and she saw her leg go through a slat in the pier up to above her knee. She said: ‘I just trod on a bit of wood and it fell straight through. I was just in shock at this chunk of wood missing. It could happen to anyone - imagine if it was an old lady or a child who fell through. I never want to go on the pier again.’

Wood told the Argus she had been going to the Palace Pier with her boyfriend Declan Dexter for years. Dexter, 20, who volunteers for the RNLI, added: ‘It’s a shame really because we have been going on there since we were kids.’ The pair took a taxi to A&E in a taxi, where it was confirmed Wood had not broken any bones but may have done some nerve damage, and that there might be some bleeding in the muscles of her leg which could take two or three weeks to heal. Afterwards she told the Argus: ‘It still really hurts and is bruised. The doctor said it would get worse before getting better.’ 

Anne Martin, general manager of the pier, was quoted by the Argus: ‘We have had no direct contact with the young lady concerned and have only been advised by a third party. We are waiting to see how we can resolve this unfortunate incident. Our health and safety consultant has provided us with a report and we are satisfied that this is an isolated incident.’

The National Pier Society website - in its potted history of the Palace Pier - confirms that the pier undertook a health and safety investigation and this had shown the incident to be an isolated one. Nevertheless,  the previous May something similar had occurred. Again according to the Argus, Fakhouri Sami Yassan, a Brighton resident put his leg through the decking and also ended up at hospital where he was treated for cuts and bruises. Yassan was quoted as saying: ‘I was lucky that another piece of decking didn’t give way or I’d have fallen straight through.’ 

I am Brighton

This day seven years ago, Century published Dorothy Koomson’s The Brighton Mermaid. Said to be a gripping thriller, it follows the story of teenagers Nell and Jude who find the body of an unidentified young woman on Brighton beach. On her right arm is the tattoo of a mermaid, and below it are etched the words ‘I am Brighton’. The narrative shifts between past and present as Nell tries to uncover the truth about her death and the disappearance of Jude 25 years later. 

Koomson is a Brighton-based British novelist and journalist, widely regarded as one of the UK’s most successful Black authors of adult fiction, with her books translated into over 30 languages and sales exceeding 2.5 million copies in the UK alone. Born in London to Ghanaian parents, she wrote her first novel at age 13 and later earned degrees in psychology and journalism from Leeds University. She began her professional writing career in women’s magazines before publishing her debut novel, The Cupid Effect, in 2003. Her third novel, My Best Friend’s Girl, became a major bestseller, and The Ice Cream Girls was adapted into a successful television drama. 

The Brighton Mermaid - first published on 17 May 2018 - is said to be fast-paced and thrilling, and to explore ‘the deadly secrets of those closest to you’. Here is the moment, right at the start of the book, Nell is narrating, when the reader is first taken on to Brighton beach. It is 1993. 

‘From the promenade, I’d spotted her down on the beach, the light of the almost full moon shining down on her, and said we should check to see if she was all right. Jude had wanted us to keep going, getting back to her house after we’d sneaked out was going to be tricky enough without getting back even later than 3 a.m., which was the time now. But I’d insisted we check. What if she’d twisted her ankle and couldn’t get up? How would we feel, leaving someone who was hurt alone like that? What if she’s drunk and has fallen asleep on the beach when the tide was out and is now too drunk to wake up and pull herself out of the water? How would we live with ourselves if we read in the paper in the morning that she’d been washed out to sea and had drowned?

Jude had rolled her eyes at me, had reminded me in an angry whisper that even though our mums were at work (they were both nurses on night duty), her dad was at home asleep and could wake up any minute now to find us gone. He’d call my dad and then we’d be for it. She’d grumbled this while going towards the stone steps that led to the beach. She was all talk, was Jude - she wouldn’t want to leave someone who was hurt, she would want to help as much as I did. It wasn’t until we’d got nearer, close enough to be able to count the breaths that weren’t going in and out of her chest, that we could to see what the real situation was. And I said that thing about her being asleep.

‘I’ll go up to the . . . I’ll go and call the police,’ Jude said. She didn’t even give me a chance to say I would do it before she was gone - crunching the pebbles underfoot as she tried to get away as fast as possible.

Alone, I felt foolish and scared at the same time. This wasn’t meant to turn out this way. We were meant to come to the beach and help a drunk lady and then sneak back to Jude’s house. I wasn’t supposed to be standing next to someone who was asleep but not.

She must be cold, I thought suddenly. Her vest top was soaked through and stuck to her body like a second, clingy skin; her denim skirt, which didn’t quite reach down to her knees, was also wringing wet. ‘I wish I had a blanket that I could pull over you,’ I silently said to her. ‘If I had a blanket, I’d do my best to keep you warm.’

It was summer, but not that warm. I wasn’t sure why she was only wearing a vest, skirt and no shoes. Maybe, I thought, her shoes and jumper have already been washed out to sea.

I leant forwards to have another look at her. I wanted to make her feel more comfortable, to move her head from resting on her left arm at an awkward angle, and stop her face from being pushed into the dozens and dozens of bracelets she wore on her arm. Thin metal ones, bright plastic ones, wood ones, black rubbery ones, they stretched from her wrist to her elbow, some of them not visible because of where her head rested. I wanted to gently move her head off her arm and lay it instead on myrolled-up jacket. I didn’t dare touch her though. I didn’t dare move any nearer, let alone touch her.

Her other arm, the right one, was thrown out to one side, as if it had flopped there when she’d finally fallen asleep. That arm had only one slender silver charm bracelet, hung with lots of little silver figures. That arm’s real decoration, though, was an elegant and detailed tattoo of a mermaid. My eyes wouldn’t leave the tattoo, which was so clear in the moonlight. Usually when I saw tattoos they were a faded greeny-blue, etched into peach or white skin, but this one was on a girl with the same shade skin as me. Deep black ink had artistically been used to stain and adorn most of her inner forearm. I leant a little more forwards, not wanting to get too close, but fascinated enough to want to have a better look. It was truly beautiful, so incredibly detailed it looked like it had been carefully inscribed onto paper, not rendered on skin.

I could see every curl of the mermaid’s short, black Afro hair; I could make out the tiny squares of light in her pupils; I could count every one of the individually etched scales on her tail, and I could see droplets of water glistening on the bodice, shaped of green seaweed, that covered her torso. The mermaid sat on a craggy grey rock, her hands demurely crossed in her lap, smiling at anyone who cared to look at her.

I couldn’t stop staring at her. She was mythical, she was a picture, but she was also like a siren at whom I couldn’t stop staring. In the waters beneath the mermaid’s rock, there were three words in a swirling, watery script: ‘I am Brighton’.

English Teacher on the beach

Later today, Brighton Beach will host English Teacher, the Leeds-based indie rock band whose meteoric rise has captivated the UK music scene. The band will appear at 10:15 pm on The Deep End stage, one of the main venues of The Great Escape, the annual new music festival that transforms Brighton (and part of the beach) into a hub for emerging artists from around the world.

English Teacher formed in 2020 when vocalist and rhythm guitarist Lily Fontaine, lead guitarist Lewis Whiting, bassist Nicholas Eden, and drummer Douglas Frost met at Leeds Conservatoire. Prior to this, they performed under the name Frank, exploring dream pop influences. Their transition to English Teacher marked a shift toward a more incisive and experimental sound, blending elements of post-punk, art rock, and indie.

English Teacher’s debut single, R&B, released in 2021, garnered critical acclaim for its candid exploration of race and identity within the indie rock landscape. This was followed by the 2022 EP Polyawkward, which NME praised as lively art-punk with a lyrical edge. The band’s growing reputation led to a performance on Later... with Jools Holland in November 2023, further cementing their status as rising stars.

Released in April, 2024, through Island Records, This Could Be Texas showcases English Teacher’s distinctive blend of surrealism and social commentary. Produced by Marta Salogni, the album delves into themes of identity, social deprivation, and political mismanagement, drawing inspiration from Fontaine’s upbringing in Colne, East Lancashire. Tracks like The World’s Biggest Paving Slab and Not Everybody Gets to Go to Space exemplify the band’s ability to intertwine poignant narratives with inventive musical arrangements.

The album’s critical success culminated in winning the 2024 Mercury Prize, making English Teacher the first non-London act to receive the award in nearly a decade (see also BBC report). Judges lauded the album for its ‘originality and character,’ highlighting its ‘winning lyrical mix of surrealism and social observation’ and its ‘fresh approach to the traditional guitar band format.’

For more on English Teacher visit their website, or Wikipedia. The video still above is taken from the band’s The World’s Biggest Paving Slab video on YouTube.