I’d never been to Brighton before, but I always knew the shot I’d want to come away with when I did. And this is it…
It almost didn’t happen. I was in London for a few days to make the most of my friends’ hospitality before they come back up north later this year. We had a few things lined up to do together and some things I wanted to see and do for myself – one of which being to take a train down to Brighton from the day.
It was only when I got to Tower Bridge after tea on that first night that I realised I was missing a crucial bit of kit: the quick-release plate for my tripod was back home in Lancashire. The realisation coursed slow motion-like through my veins; I wouldn’t be able to shoot anything creatively unless I went out and bought a whole new tripod, and much as I would enjoy the company for a few days it would be a wasted opportunity for getting the shots I’d lined up. Many of which depended on stability to create long-exposures. So after spending some considerable time in a London camera shop the day after, I emerged with a new Manfrotto tripod. At some expense but with much necessity.
Back in Brighton I took a wander round the lanes, very much enjoying the spirit of the place before I would end up at the sea front. The sun was up there somewhere but the light was hazy, as I added filters to the camera and mounted it on its expensive new accessory. I like the first shot below – almost monochrome in nature – but I hoped for a break in the clouds to come.
It’s very evocatve. Possibly the most at-risk Grade I listed building in Britain, the result of a downward spiral that began with financial difficulties and closure to the public in 1975. It was an era of huge socio-political change when such places as piers and theatres were falling out of favour, and the nation’s holiday habits were increasingly set to warmer shores. Dereliction set in, parts of the structure were reclaimed by the sea in 2002 and much of the rest by arsonists in two huge blazes the year after. In the aftermath it was declared beyond repair and left as it is, until it all finally collapses.
I had some time to kill before sundown so I went for a walk, bought some sticks of rock and talked to somebody about the West Pier Trust’s plan to restore one of the original kiosks, salvaged back in 1996. Realistically it’s all they can aim for now.
As the end of the short day came, the sun made an appearance as it set, underlighting the clouds and casting its warm glow on the beach-side steels. A little after that I knew I had a decent image.
Walking back along the seafront as twilight fell, Murmurations of starlings were putting on an end-of-the-pier show at Brighton’s remaining Palace Pier, but alas it was getting too dark to photograph them, so I made my way back across the city to catch my train back to London. I took my backpack off on the train and went to get a stick of rock from the pocket.
Somebody – presumably on an escalator or in a queue somewhere – had stolen one!