Mr Him's Rhythmic Rumblings

Following Anna and Friends Adventures in a Seed Bank Mr Him and I decided to show our friends Brighton.  Now the best laid plans can go awry,  and they did. We intended to be in Brighton for 11 am to guzzle cocktails after a ten minute meander and then pour our friends onto a train home.   First though a train to Brighton. Easy, you would think, yes? No.

At the station  we found trains that weren't to be.  The engineers had pulled up the track. In both directions. Kindly the engineers had provided buses.  So we climbed to the top deck and accepted we'd be later than expected in Brighton, but hey let's treat this as an excursion and enjoy the views.   

From the top deck through the suburbs I saw views.  Views that were not designed for double decker buses! This is why town buses are coaches and should stay that way. 

After a gentle roll past farms and rural winter muddiness there was an almighty explosion right under Mr Him followed by a rhythmic rumble.  I glared  at him and swore under my breath about the Indian restaurant and the apparent further retribution that had come my way (see I shouldn't be let out in public. )  Now Queen Victoria once said that "the people here (Brighton) are very indiscreet and troublesome". As far as I was concerned that did not give Mr Him carte blanche to have a gross rumbling on the way there!

The rhythmic rumbling continued and the driver pulled into Hassocks station,  got off the bus and phoned for reinforcements with glances in Mr Him's direction. Our friends decided it would be best if we sneaked away so down we climbed and crawled into a taxi with instructions to drive around the other side of the bus.  

Twenty minutes later we were safely in Brighton and as we passed our local palace (yes, it may look like something from Delhi but this really is a palace in Brighton.  King George IV so loved India he wanted a home of such style)  I reminded Mr  Him that here was the best place to have his rhythmic rumbling  and to be indiscreet and troublesome before we get to things more exciting. 

We then headed for a  meander through Brighton's equivalent of Carnaby street.  

The men spotted  a retro leather jacket stall, and the rhythmic rumbling was no more. Mr Him was no longer indiscreet and troublesome. He was absorbed in retro leather. 

I spotted retro dresses 

and we all spotted very current cakes. 

It was time for a meditation on cocktails and beer along with burritos.  

Then for a stroll to the sea and piers.  

There were no more rhythmic rumblings that day, but then our bus back did not explode a tyre.