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. 

Classic Car Run

The annual London to Brighton Classic Car Run returned to Madeira Drive today in a glorious blur of polished chrome, growling engines and retro styling. This long-standing favourite on the UK motoring calendar brings together classic car enthusiasts from across the country and beyond, for a scenic drive that concludes at Brighton Beach.

The event was first held in 1988, designed to complement the Veteran Car Run (for pre-1905 vehicles) and give post-war classics their own moment in the sun (or rain!). Starting at Brooklands Museum in Surrey - itself a landmark of British motoring history - the route leads participants through picturesque countryside and historic villages, before finishing at the traditional motor venue of Madeira Drive. With the South Downs in full early summer bloom, the scenic aspect is no afterthought, it is said, but motoring as leisure, not speed. Participants receive a commemorative plaque, a rally board, and a route book complete with historical notes.

Entry is open to a wide range of vehicles - typically those built before 1973, although this cut-off can shift slightly to accommodate newer classics. Over the years, the event has grown to include the Kit & Sports Car Run and Modern Classics Run. On arrival in Brighton, participants park up along Madeira Drive to the delight of the waiting crowds, who are free to wander among the cars, and to chat with drivers of the lovingly-maintained vehicles.

Today’s display included several Ford Escorts in eye-popping hues - a lime green Mexico, a tangerine RS2000, and a glossy red custom job with the bonnet proudly lifted to show off its gleaming engine bay. Just a few cars down, a cream Rolls-Royce Silver Wraith (late 1940s or early 1950s) garnished with white floral garlands showed off its wide curving haunches - perhaps, a study in postwar elegance.

Over the decades, the Classic Car Run has built up its own mythology. There was the time when a fleet of Morris Minors took a wrong turn and arrived triumphantly from the wrong end of the promenade. And then there was the Triumph Herald that boiled over just yards from the finish line, only to be pushed across by its laughing, Union Jack-draped crew. In 2017, a 1950s Bentley was delayed by a flock of sheep crossing a Sussex lane; the driver simply tipped his cap and declared, ‘Motoring as it should be - unpredictable and utterly British.’

See also the Historic Commercial Vehicle Run.

The Kemp Town Lift

The Kemp Town (or Madeira) Lift was opened 135 years ago this very day. Located on Brighton’s East Cliff, it was built to connect Marine Parade above with Madeira Drive below, offering practical access to the seafront at a time when Brighton was rapidly expanding as a Victorian resort.

The lift was part of a larger project initiated under the Brighton Improvement Act of 1884. Alongside the lift, work began on the Madeira Terrace and Shelter Hall - structures designed to enhance the eastern stretch of the promenade. Construction of the lift began in the late 1880s and was completed in time for its opening on 24 May 1890. It is made up of a three-stage tower with a pagoda-style roof and originally featured a square-faced clock, now missing. Its roof is topped by a dolphin weather vane, and the structure is notable for its ornamental cast-iron framework

The full length of Madeira Terrace, which the lift forms a central part of, was completed in 1897. The East Cliff had already undergone major changes by this time. A sea wall, constructed in 1870 using stone from the demolished first Blackfriars Bridge in London, provided a foundation for further development. The Kemp Town estate, built between 1823 and 1855, had established the area as a fashionable part of Brighton. The lift was designed to complement this setting, with an ornamental roof, cast-iron framework, and panoramic views of the coast.

In 1971, Madeira Terrace and the lift were granted Grade II* listed status by English Heritage, recognising their architectural and historical value. Bizarrely, perhaps, access to the beach level of the lift is via Concorde, a music venue. According to Atlas Obscura, there is ‘chest-thumping music from about ten in the morning onwards’, and the interior of the club is painted black and purple ‘suitably oppressive and doom-laden, even in bright sunshine and despite its sixteen-foot ceilings’. Historically (at times prior to Concorde), the beach level building served as a waiting room and as a cafe.

The lift structure - like the rest of the terraces - has suffered from long periods of neglect. The lift was closed in 2007 due to safety concerns. It reopened briefly in 2009 after structural repairs, but further deterioration led to more closures. In 2012, Madeira Walk and the upper deck were also shut. Limited restoration in 2013 allowed a temporary reopening, but by 2023, the lift had once again been closed indefinitely due to shaft damage.

Over the years, attempts have been made to maintain and manage the lift, including a period of operation by Concorde. However, ongoing maintenance has remained a challenge. In 2019, over ten tonnes of lead and copper were stolen from the lift and surrounding shelters, worsening its condition. As of March 2025, Brighton & Hove City Council has launched a new restoration project for the eastern seafront - see Madeira Terrace restoration - hurrah! and Progress on the Madeira arches.

Historic commercial vehicles

Historic commercial vehicles - vans, trucks, lorries, fire engines, coaches/buses, steam wagons, many in bright-coloured liveries - lit up the Brighton seafront today, west of the pier. Arriving from around 10 am, they rolled in along Madeira Drive, sometimes stuttering, sometimes juddering, but every one clean and bright as a button, loved and cherished for their connections with our past. 

The London to Brighton Historic Commercial Vehicle Run is an annual event celebrating Britain’s rich commercial motoring heritage. Organised by the Historic Commercial Vehicle Society (HCVS), the run showcases a diverse array of vintage commercial vehicles. The inaugural run took place on 13 May 1962, initiated by the HCVS, which itself was launched in 1958 following a rally at Beaulieu (where the National Motor Museum had been founded by Lord Montagu in 1952). The event has grown in popularity, with the 60th run in 2022 featuring 170 entrants. 

Last year, 2024, HCVS relocated the starting point of the run from Crystal Palace to Brooklands Museum in Weybridge, Surrey. The change was implemented to avoid London’s Ultra Low Emission Zone (ULEZ) and various lorry restrictions, making it more accessible for vintage vehicles. Participants now follow a route through Cobham, Leatherhead, Dorking, Redhill, Horley, Balcombe, Cuckfield, Burgess Hill before joining the A23 at a Pycombe for the last stage to Madeira Drive on the seafront in Brighton.

Photos of some of today’s participants:

(Above) - a preserved British double-decker bus (1930s-1950s), a type that became iconic in UK public transport, especially in cities like London. The livery advertises Tampon’s Ales and Ty-Phoo Tea, both classic British brands.

(Top left) - a historic steam traction engine, a type of self-propelled steam-powered vehicle used primarily for agricultural and heavy haulage work in the late 19th and early 20th centuries.

(Top right) - a Fordson E83W, a light commercial vehicle produced by Ford between 1938 and 1957. This example is a flatbed pickup, often used for small deliveries and local business use. The E83W is known for its rounded cab, separate headlamps, and classic upright grille.

(Bottom left) - a classic single-deck coach, likely from the 1950s or 1960s, used for longer-distance travel and private hire. The red and cream paintwork is a common style for British and European coaches of the era, designed to be both attractive and easily identifiable.

(Bottom right) - a classic Scammell lorry, a British brand renowned for heavy haulage and specialist vehicles, particularly from the 1920s through the 1980s. Scammell vehicles of this era were notable for their robust construction and were often used for demanding transport tasks, including oversized cargo and military equipment

Quirky fact: In the 5th run, Lord Montagu drove a 1908 Unic taxi (French made), accompanied by London’s oldest taxi driver, with the fare for the entire distance clocked at 13 shillings. 

200 black body bags

Ten years ago this month, some 200 black body bags were lined up on Brighton Beach, just east of Palace Pier, in a haunting performance staged by Amnesty International to highlight Britain’s ‘shameful’ response to the escalating migrant crisis in the Mediterranean. The protest came in the wake of a devastating shipwreck off the coast of Libya, where approximately 800 migrants lost their lives. Both The Guardian and the BBC covered the stunt at the time. And Amnesty International, itself, has now revisited the issue with a press release looking at progress made in saving lives in the Med. Nevertheless, according to the International Maritime Organisation more than 30,000 migrants have gone missing in the Mediterranean since 2014!

This photograph was published in The Guardian with credit to Tom Pugh/PA; and the photograph below it comes from the Amnesty website.

Back in April 2015, Amnesty supporters not only arranged the 200 body bags in rows but also zipped themselves into some of them, symbolising solidarity with the deceased. A funeral wreath was placed among the bags, and a banner reading #DontLetThemDrown was displayed prominently.​ Amnesty’s UK director, Kate Allen, was quoted as saying: ‘Until now, the British government’s response has been shameful but finally foreign ministers seem to be waking up to the need to act. EU governments must now urgently turn their rhetoric into action to stop more people drowning on their way to Europe.’

The demonstration was timed to coincide with emergency EU talks addressing the migrant crisis. Amnesty International criticised the UK government’s decision to scale back search and rescue operations in the Mediterranean, arguing that such actions contributed to the increasing death toll. The organisation called for a more compassionate and proactive approach to the humanitarian disaster unfolding at Europe’s borders.​

In a statement issued on 1 April 2025, Amnesty revisited its campaign starting with the body bags stunt, and drew attention to the UK’s deployment of HMS Bulwark, which has rescued over 4,000 people. Amnesty, it says, is advocating for ‘safe and legal routes for asylum-seekers, fair responsibility-sharing among European countries, and increased resettlement places to address the wider issues causing these deaths’.

The UK, of course, has been grappling with a surge in small boat crossings across the English Channel. As of April 2025, over 7,200 migrants have arrived via this perilous route, marking a 31% increase from the previous year (though there are hardly any recorded instances of landings on Brighton Beach).

A flickering, fractured vision

Here is the fifth of 25 stained glass window designs on the Palace Pier which AI and I are using as inspiration for some of these BrightonBeach365 daily posts - see Stained glass window 1 for background. This image conjures up an age gone past, the age of steam. A train - with its various components rendered in different colours of glass - is pulling into the station. In the background, the upper portion of the window features a light blue sky with curved lines suggesting the roof structure of a train station. Below, are depictions of passengers in red standing on a platform.

A limerick starter

A steam train set off with delight,

Through glass, it gleamed bold in the light.

Past the sea’s rolling tide,

On the pier it would glide,

Bringing dreams of adventure in sight.

A flickering, fractured vision (in the style of William Gibson)

The station was empty when Daniel arrived, the faded hum of its electric lights stuttering like an old circuit board. The Comet sat there, the blackened metal of her boiler catching what little light filtered through the stained-glass window - a relic, buried beneath years of rust, forgotten by time.

But time, like anything else, had its own rules. And those rules didn’t apply here.

Daniel had seen the way the glass glowed, each shard a window into another world - a flickering, fractured vision of something long past, but present. He could almost hear the hum of the engine in the glass, its rhythm in sync with the pulse of the station’s ancient electrical grid. He’d watched it so many times, but tonight, something in the light made him uneasy. Something - darker.

Then the glass moved.

The first tremor was almost imperceptible, a shiver of static in the air. Then, with the kind of impossible grace that only something broken could possess, the Comet stirred. Steel shrieked, pistons groaned, steam bellowed. For a moment, the whole place seemed to be held in stasis, frozen in the glowing prism of colour.

Daniel’s hand slid to the lever at his side, automatic, muscle memory. But he didn’t move. The engine - silent, dark, lost to a world that had moved past it - woke.

It rolled forward, a ghost from another time, its brass a muted reflection in the cracked glass of the window.

‘No way,’ Daniel muttered, his voice barely a whisper, swallowed by the hum of the rails beneath. The machine moved - slow at first, hesitant, like it wasn’t sure if it belonged to this world anymore. It shouldn’t have been possible, not in the way it was happening.

The station, with its peeling paint and a forgotten sense of grandeur, blinked as the Comet began its descent down the hill. Gathering speed, the sound of the train’s wheels clattered against old tracks, and rages of steam left a confusion of fog in its wake.

There was a glitch in reality somewhere, and for a second, it felt like the whole world was briefly on standby. The Comet wasn’t supposed to be here - not now, not like this.

It was onto Volk’s Electric Railway before anyone could blink. The narrow-gauge tracks, once built for something smaller, were too fragile to support a full-sized engine. But the Comet wasn’t following the rules. The metal of the rails rippled under its weight as though it too was caught in the glitch.

The train sped down Madeira Drive, steam boiling and the sea churning, as the city passed in flashes. For an instant, the rails crackled - unused electricity - life syncing with the pulse of the past. The engine moved on its own terms, like it always had, like it was never going to stop. The whistle tore through the air.

Daniel ran to catch up, his feet pounding the pavement, but the streets were foreign, faster than he remembered. The flicker of neon signs bled into the fog, the city bleeding out from the station’s forgotten corners. He didn’t know whether to follow or to let it go.

At Black Rock, the Comet slowed, the city finally catching up with itself. The engine sat, quivering, waiting for something Daniel wasn’t sure he was ready to see.

He placed a hand on cool metal, tracing the edges of something once forgotten. He expected to feel the weight of something unshakable, a solid connection to an age gone by, but instead, it was like touching something that had always been here, in the air, the wires, the hum of a signal.

A fraction of a second later, the Comet vanished. The rails, still warm, were silent.

By morning, it was as though it had never been. The station sat in its quiet decay, the stained-glass window intact, but something was different. Daniel stood in front of it, the edges of the glass still rippling as if caught in some loop. The faintest trace of steam lingered in the air.

He knew better than to question it. Time bent here, had always bent. Maybe it was the glass, maybe it was the wires, but the Comet wasn’t finished. Not by a long shot.

Brighton’s first ever RNLI boat

According to the RNLI web page on the history of the Brighton Lifeboat Station, it is 200 years ago this very day (30 January) that the newly-launched Royal National Institution for the Preservation of Life from Shipwreck (RNIPLS) established its first lifeboat on Brighton Beach. And it was only last year that the RNLI as a whole celebrated the 200th anniversary of its founding - it used this 1904 colourised photograph of the then new lifeboat at Brighton in its publicity for the occasion. In 2024, the organisation boasted 238 lifeboat stations (UK and Ireland) and more than 240 beach lifeguard units. Moreover, the RNLI claims its lifeboat crews and lifeguards have saved over 146,000 lives over the last two centuries. (See also RNLI to take over beach safety.)

Brighton’s very first lifeboat, according to Wikipedia, was a 22-foot vessel designed by Henry Greathead and transferred from Newhaven. It was not, however, well-suited for local waters and by 1816 had fallen into disuse. In 1824, the RNIPLS was founded. Early in 1825, it established a Brighton branch and, on 30 January, installed its first lifeboat, housed in a cave near the Chain Pier. The facility was closed in 1837 due to construction of Madeira Drive. Subsequently, various organisations - including the Brighton Humane Society and Brighton Town Council - operated their own private lifeboats.

The Royal National Lifeboat Institution (RNLI), which succeeded the RNIPLS in 1854, opened a new station in Brighton in 1858 with the town council providing a space on the beach, opposite the Bedford Hotel and close to the West Pier. The first lifeboat here was a 30-foot self-righting vessel, but, according to Wikipedia, was never named, and only made three service launches. The station was moved in 1868, and then again in 1886 after the building of groynes on the beach (which hampered lifeboat movement). The new station this time was located on the Western Esplanade, between the piers, employing two of the spacious arches that were being constructed as part of seafront re-developments.

Arch 109 was used to house the RNLI’s lifeboat whilst arch 110 was used to store equipment. Meanwhile, the town council operated its own lifeboat from arch 111. The site was used continually until 1931 when the RNLI withdrew and consolidated its operations at a newly-built station in Shoreham with a motor lifeboat. Thereafter, Brighton had no lifeboats for more than 30 years, but, in 1975, donations by patrons of a public house in London called The Rising Sun, helped purchase a new boat, housed east of the Palace Pier. This served until a station at the new Marina was in operation.

Since 2011, Brighton Lifeboat Station has employed an Atlantic 85-class inshore lifeboat named Random Harvest. The station averages around 60 rescues annually within two miles of its base at the Marina.

The old arches - since the 1930s - have been occupied by Brighton Sailing Club. On the wall between arches 109 and 110 is a very worn plaque, more or less unreadable today. It records the lifeboat Robert Raikes which, in 1867, replaced three lifeboats that had been serving the town. Raikes was the founder of the Sunday School movement, and part of the funds for the boat had been raised by Sunday School children. Apparently, on the back wall of one of the arches there still remains a large ring anchored into the masonry, used to haul the lifeboat back into the arch.

i360 stranded sky high - with sky-high debts

Less than 10 years since a mirrored doughnut carried its first passengers high into the sky, the infamous i360 has become stranded there. The 162-meter observation tower opened in 2016 as a bold, futuristic addition to Brighton’s seafront. Designed by the creators of the London Eye, it promised stunning views from its observation car (the doughnut on a stick!), and a boost to local tourism. However, the project quickly ran into trouble, plagued by technical issues, long queues, and underwhelming visitor numbers. 

A click on the company’s website now provides no more than a brief stark announcement: ‘Steve Absolom and Will Wright were appointed Joint Administrators of Brighton I-360 Limited - in Administration (the ‘Company’) on 20 December 2024 and as a result the Company has ceased trading immediately. Please direct all queries to Brightoni360@interpath.com.’

The structure, reportedly, cost £46m, partly paid for with a whopping £36m loan from the Public Works Loan Board via Brighton & Hove City Council. The then council leader, Simon Burgess, predicted the facility would ‘transform the city’ and generate significant revenue. For its first five years it was glamorously sponsored by British Airways, but early technical faults and financial difficulties seemed to bode less than well. 

In December 2022, the attraction defaulted on its council debt, and in November 2024, Brighton i360 Ltd filed for administration - citing (rather lamely don’t you think) rising costs, unfavourable weather, and the cost-of-living crisis. On 20 December, it closed abruptly, with all 100 plus employees made redundant. Brighton & Hove City Council announced an inquiry into the closure, and it revealed that the owners owed the council a staggering £51 million. The council, which pays £2.2 million annually for the loan until 2040, faces significant financial repercussions. Deputy leader Jacob Taylor described the investment as having been ‘a financial disaster for the council.’

And a long-term eyesore to boot. It seems I was calling the i360 an eyesore before it was even completed. Here’s an entry from my diary, a few weeks before the opening.

20 July 2016

‘The i360 is soon to open, I read in the ‘Argus’, and tickets have gone on sale for the 20 minute ‘flight’. It’s owned or operated by British Airways, and has some slick advertising and promotion, but I take exception to the idea that it’s a vertical ‘pier’, and that where Victorians walked out above the sea, we can now walk on air. That might have some truth if the floor were glass and transparent, but I’m pretty sure it’s not. The pod can hold up to 200 people - that wouldn’t be much fun would it. And £13.50-15 for an adult ticket! For 20 minutes entertainment, and nothing more than a view. A) piers were never that expensive, and B) there was no time limit, and C) most piers had/have different kinds of entertainment, things to see/do. Pah! is all I can say. And I’ve come to see the tall column, with its teeny-weeny pod when seen from afar, as a bit of an eyesore.’

In 2015, during construction of the i360, there was some very colorful wall art on the surrounding fencing. I photographed it for my blog Graffiti Brighton. Here’s a sample.

Whistle, hoot, whistle

Whistle, hoot, whistle. This first BrightonBeach365 post is my humble contribution to the start of nationwide celebrations to mark 200 years of UK rail travel. The first event took place today at midday: a combined whistle blowing from all available heritage railway locomotives. And the famous Volk’s Electric Railway - which runs along the beach from the Aquarium to Black Rock - took part. The Volk’s Electric Railway Association (VERA) stated: ‘As you know our Volk’s cars don’t have whistles so we will be sounding all available warning devices (klaxons and horns) from the available Volk’s fleet outside the depot at Halfway (Peter Pans) at 12 noon.’

Though not, in fact, going back anywhere near two centuries, Volk’s claim to fame is for being the oldest operating ELECTRIC railway IN THE WORLD (or ON THE PLANET as David Attenborough might say). It was opened by Brighton born inventor Magnus Volk in 1883, passed briefly to his son on his death in 1937, and then, the year after, to Brighton Corporation (which became Brighton & Hove City Council). It’s closed for the winter, but an excellent pictorial essay on the railway’s history can be found at VERA’s website.

This New Year morning has proved an inauspicious start to the BrightonBeach365 project. I could barely cycle down to the sea front because the wind was gusting so strongly, at over 40 mph. On the pebbles it was super-windy, freezing to the hands, mist limiting not-so-distant vision, and monstrous, grisly waves rolling in, threatening DANGER banners put out by the coastguard. 

Whistle, hoot, whistle.