Monday I woke up feeling good. After a couple of hours of work I looked out the window and the sun smiled back at me. I thought to myself "Why wait?" so off I toddled, starting my long journey to Brighton a couple of hours earlier than planned. In theory, it was brilliant. After a weekend of working hard a day off was just what I needed.
One bus, one train, four hours, 3 pages of scribbled notes, about 20 emails, a long musical conversation with Ivano and 4 phonecalls later I arrived. It was 4pm, I'd worked all the way there.
We headed straight to the pier, forgetting it was half-term and being confronted with a million and one small children, it was frightful. I lost my money in a machine whilst an ugly chav watched on, did some coated sun bathing with a drug-addled looking youth, we drank too much and were beaten by a tiny arcade goal keeper.
We admired the aesthetically pleasing City and then went for a meal with our good friend Harry Ramsden, the un-crowned King of Fish and Chips.
After this it was time for a few drinks with Pictures in an up-turned boat, catching up with James from Yndi Halda and the guys from The Crowns On The Rats Orchestra, and then this happened:
Anathallo. The best live band I've seen this year. Three times over. Simply stunning.
A dash for the last train ending in the wrong part of London eating Nik-Nak's and the day was done. Not exactly a restful day off enjoying the February sunshine but hey, at least I helped save this faceless man from drowning.