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.’

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.

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.]

The Golden Gallopers

We are lucky to have the GGs on Brighton Beach, better known as the ‘Golden Gallopers’, a fairground ride that surely captures the spirit of traditional seaside entertainment. 

This carousel was built in 1888 by Frederick Savage, a pioneering 19th-century English engineer and inventor who transformed the world of fairground machinery. Savage, based in King’s Lynn, Norfolk, developed steam-powered systems for carousels, including the ‘galloping horse’ mechanism that gave ride-on horses their signature rise-and-fall motion. His roundabouts were exported around the world and laid the foundation for what became known as the golden age of mechanical fairgrounds.

The Brighton carousel originally toured the North of England before being exported to the USA by an American collector. After some years abroad, it returned to the UK and eventually found a permanent home on Brighton beach. Over the course of its history, the ride has undergone a number of restorations, including a key rebuild by Savage’s company to convert it from a ‘dobby set’ (with stationary horses) to a full galloper ride using overhead cranks and a rotating platform. The original steam engine was removed in 1949, and the carousel has since run on electric power.

The carousel has been operated on Brighton beach since 1997 by Owen Smith - Smith’s name is proudly painted on the ride’s canopy, and he continues to manage its seasonal appearance and upkeep. The carousel typically operates from Easter to September and is dismantled each winter for protection. A notable feature of the ride’s operation is its annual rebuilding each March, when it is reassembled on the beach. This process has been documented in a sequence of photos by Tony Mould, who also recorded the names of all the carved horses, each one individually painted and named - see My Brighton and Hove. (However, these photographs are my own.)

Today, the Golden Gallopers carousel remains a much-loved landmark on Brighton’s seafront. It stands, one might say, as a living tribute to Frederick Savage’s mechanical ingenuity and to the commitment of its current operator, who ensures the carousel continues to delight new generations of visitors with the colour, motion, and music of a bygone era.

Rampion’s giant turbines

This month marks ten years since a major turning point in the UK’s green energy journey - and in the future of views out to sea from Brighton Beach. In May 2015, confirmation of a £1.3 billion investment unlocked the start of construction on what would become the Rampion Offshore Wind Farm - a pioneering renewable energy project off the Sussex coast. A decade later, Rampion has not only reshaped the region’s horizon but also played a key role in reshaping Britain’s energy future.

Back in 2015, the announcement by E.ON, with backing from the UK Green Investment Bank and Enbridge, signalled more than just a financial commitment. It was a bold vote of confidence in the potential of offshore wind, then still an emerging sector. Construction began in 2016; by spring 2018, the turbines were fully operational, delivering power to the National Grid.

Situated 13km off the Sussex coast, Rampion was the first offshore wind farm in the south of England. With 116 turbines generating up to 400 megawatts - enough to power around 350,000 homes - it demonstrated the viability of large-scale wind energy in the region. Its name, chosen by public vote, nods to the round-headed rampion, the county flower of Sussex.

Today, Rampion stands as a landmark project - visible most especially from Brighton Beach - and a vital contributor to the UK’s renewable energy mix. Looking ahead, the proposed Rampion 2 expansion aims to nearly triple the wind farm’s generating capacity. With an estimated cost of £2 billion, the project received government approval in April 2025 and is expected to begin construction in late 2026 or early 2027, aiming to be fully operational before 2030. The extension will add 90 turbines, each up to 325 meters tall - surpassing the height of the Eiffel Tower - and will provide clean electricity to over one million homes. (The photo below is from the Rampion website.)

The visual impact of Rampion has been a topic of discussion - see The Guardian. While some residents and visitors appreciate the turbines as symbols of progress and find them majestic, others express concerns about their prominence on the seascape. The developers have engaged in public consultations to address these concerns, including reducing the number of turbines and adjusting their placement to minimise visual intrusion. Meanwhile anyone wishing to get up close and personal to the turbine giants can take a tour with Brighton Diver - costing just £45 for a two-three hour boat ride.

The Brighton Fixer

Here is the eight 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 features two jockeys riding brown horses, both in racing posture. The jockey in the foreground is wearing a pink top and white pants, while the jockey behind is dressed in a red top and white pants with a yellow helmet. The background shows stylised green fields, a blue sky, and white clouds, with a prominent red circle in the sky, possibly representing the sun or a race marker. 

A limerick starter

Two jockeys sped off in a dash,

Each hoping to pocket the cash.

Their horses, inspired,

Look secretly wired -

Did someone spike oats with panache?

The Brighton Fixer (in the style of Dick Francis)

I saw it again this morning. The stained glass roundel above the old betting shop door on Brighton seafront. Two jockeys, mid-gallop, frozen in coloured glass - one in rose, one in red. Odd thing is, I know them both.

The one in rose? That’s Charlie Fielding. Dead two years now - trampled under six hooves at Plumpton. Officially an accident. Unofficially, I never bought it. And the other jockey? I’d bet my last losing slip it’s me.

I retired after Charlie’s death. Couldn’t ride without seeing him in my periphery. But I still walked the beach every morning, boots crunching shingle, past the piers and peeling Victorian arches. That’s when I noticed the stained glass, installed suddenly in the old Seagull Tote, long closed and boarded until recently. No artist’s name. No sign. Just that image - and the past, staring back at me.

That morning, a figure was watching from inside. A flicker behind the coloured panes. Curiosity overrode my better sense. I crossed the promenade and pushed through the warped wooden door. It creaked open.

Inside was dim, the salt air clinging to dusty formica. A single bulb buzzed above a folding table. And sitting at it, with a bookmaker’s ledger open in front of him, was Julian Kemp.

He’d trained both Charlie and me once. Slick, silver-haired, with a fondness for quiet threats and sudden debt. He didn’t look surprised to see me.

‘Thought the window might bring you in,’ he said, without looking up. ‘It’s good, isn’t it? Custom commission. Memory’s a powerful lure.’

I didn’t answer. My eyes scanned the room. Beneath the table: a floorboard pried loose. Inside, stacked neatly - old betting slips, laminated, coded. Duplicates of Charlie’s last race. And photos. Surveillance. One showed Charlie arguing with Kemp, another showed Kemp at a late-night meeting with a farrier who’d been banned from every course south of the M25.

Charlie had known something. Tried to back out. And now the glass showed him forever racing to a finish he never reached.

‘You killed him,’ I said quietly.

Kemp smiled like a man remembering a clever joke. ‘He wouldn’t play ball. But you? You stayed loyal. Fancy another ride, Ben?’

He nodded toward a fresh set of silks on a hook: rose pink, like Charlie’s.

I picked them up, felt the weight. Then turned, sharp and fast, and cracked the brass hook against Kemp’s temple. He crumpled silently.

I left him tied with his own power cable, his precious stained glass glowing behind me as the dawn caught the curve of the beach.

I’d call the police once I reached the pier. First, I stopped and looked out to sea.

This time, I wouldn’t be part of the finish line.

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.