I travelled back from London to Brighton last night, catching the 11:14pm from London Bridge. As we travelled the snow began to fall and the train slowed to a crawl. As we crept along the driver announced that we would soon be in the tunnel and then we would be home free. Emerging from the station Brighton was quiet and white and beautiful. The copper standing chatting was a nice contrast to the screaming policeman I’d seen earlier on the underground.
Walking down Queen’s Road, a handful of taxis skidded around and the Quadrant pub looked very good. I walked along Western Road where a huddle of people stood waiting for a bus that would never come. Then down to the sea front where people were building giant snow men on Hove Lawns.