It's pronounced Brighton, darling ...

I'm back in London after escaping the city for a weekend of R&R in Brighton, on the south coast of England. My gracious hosts in the big smoke, Cousin Slugg and Can't Stop The Rush, couldn't be stopped from joining me on the megabus.com journey (let it be noted that The Life And Times Of JB is not a promotional vehicle, except if your name is Captain Morgan). We all had a smashing time sitting on deck chairs, drinking in pubs, walking along a beach devoid of sand (but had plenty of stones instead) and marvelling at The Royal Pavilion, which looks Indian on the outside, Chinese on the inside and was once the home to English royalty.

That was confusing but captivating, much like the photo taken of JB and Cousin Slugg on Brighton Pier. Despite the marriage certificate and the abundance of rainbow flags adorning various establishments in this "happy" coastal place, I can safely report that we were merely hamming it up for the cameras and are both perfectly straight. To his or her own, though.

For the next week, I plan to be in London, where I'm happy to report the weather is nice and warm. And fingers crossed, this time next week I'll be in Amsterdam as part of an 18-day tour of various European countries with other like-minded travellers. The fun, for now, doesn't stop.