At The Beach.

"I have worries

to give to the sea.

We can walk, dear.

The pier is farther than it seems."

- The Avett Brothers.

I got to feed my ocean addiction today and it was worth every single second.

Kelly and I traveled down south by train to little beach bum Brighton for a day to catch the glimpse of some waves and walks along the pier. And it surely did not disappoint when we came to these hopes about the sea community.

Despite being rather chilly for what I am used to down by the shore, Brighton opened its streets of Easter-pastel houses, piled right on top of each other from row to row. Graffiti splatted across all other walls through the alleyways and side roads. Antique flea markets and an eclectic mix of shops also guided the way to some of the best food in England (well, in my own opinion) at Bill's and Cloud 9. 

But even great meals and cutesy buildings do not get my heart pumping like the sound of the soft tide rolling into a hilly shore.

Brighton brought a new beach landscape I have never seen before: rocks and pebbles for miles meeting the grey-teal hue of the English channel mixed sea. While I wouldn't recommend taking off your shoes, I do have to say sitting upon these rocks makes for an excellent seat to listen to the waves crash. And knowing me, I just HAD  to touch the water. Its chilly temperature reminded me of winter water back home in the Pacific and yet, I found myself more than 6,000 miles away from that coastline.

The town of Brighton was the great escape from London that I definitely needed, even if for a few hours. As I told Kelly, it was England's version of Santa Monica meets Venice Beach and that was enough for me to feel like Brighton was special.

I hope the tides of my soul change like that in the sea and hopefully Brighton will still be there waiting for me.