Brighton–south of London–is a former seaside resort for the wealthy of London–over time it has not only become the gay capital of England, but it has become a mecca for liberal minded people. Recently, the first Green Party MP in England was elected here–who also happens to be a woman!

Anything goes in Brighton–said some students I talked to. Nose rings galour, pink hair–you name it, Brighton is liberal and accepting. Here is Rob and Abi hanging out in the park listening to their friends busker.

Another woman attributes the liberalism to so many international language schools. Whatever the reason, it is too funky. Tons of fair trade clothing stores, head shops, vegan restaurants, music stores…my head was spinning. I I was in bohemian heaven. I bought a funky copper ring from a vendor and even had a chinese massage for my back that is slowly failing me!

Random coolness contained in a single store! RED MUTHA!

When I walked into stores like the Purple-Heart.com it reaffirms the fact that I am still a child; I bought a handful of lip gloss in the shape of mini ice cream containers–think cookies and cream and chocolate mint. It is for me and my sister, of coarse.

The famous Brighton Pier in the background; in the forefront a tourist is strapped into a bouncing trapese–for 8 quid you can lose your lunch and look like a fool.

Brighton has a spectacular marina and cobble stone beach. In the distance you can see the old fashioned amusement rides–merry-go-rounds and all the rest.

Visiting my friend Sally Goodman who lives in Surbiton, a suburb 30 minutes outside of London. I’ve only really known, or at least met face-to-face, Sally for about four hours and that was about four years ago. We met in Warsaw, Poland. When in line to check my bags at the Warsaw airport, there was a bomb scare. Everyone was ushered out.

We waited. And we waited. Standing next to me was Sally–an affable and bubbly English woman. We clicked immediately. A half hour turned into an hour, then two and then we both missed our flights. The news station arrived; the bomb squad arrived. It could have been a terribly dull and bothersome experience, except I found Sally. We’ve kept in touch and here we are, years later. I am at her home with her lovable husband Steve and 14- year-old cat, Otway.

Here’s the lovely couple–we took a boat trip down the Thames to Hampton Court–Henry VIII’s summer home dating back to 1528. Along our river ride I took some snaps of the house boats, and shops on the water.

Always a pub in England–no matter where you are!

Steve and I rolling down the river…

Hampton Court was grand–there’s no other way to describe it. It’s apparently the finest Tudor building in all of England! More titillating, it’s also where Henry went through four of his six wives here. Scandal! If you didn’t already know, Henry was married to Catherine but ditched her, after quite a lengthy marriage, for Anne Boleyn. When the Pope didn’t allow Henry to annul his first marriage, he created the Church of England. He effectively removed England from the Catholic church and then also declared himself the head of the Church of England. It’s quite a big fuss for a woman he ultimately had beheaded. No matter. He’s Henry VIII.

This is the entrance–and yes, I am wearing leg warmers with Birkinstocks. Bought em at Harrod’s at department store in London so don’t give me grief!

Here’s one of several roasting rooms in the castle. Henry wasn’t always large–but I guess years of giant feasts, he developed quite the belly.

Apparently they used to eat the swans during this era. Sally was also telling me that the Queen owns all the Swans in England. Swan Upping, as it’s called, is an annual event whereby they inspect the Queen’s Swans–are they healthy, etc… The Queen comes out for it, too.

Dutch King William and his Queen moved into the place in 1690 and added some new digs–a lot more actually, as if it wasn’t large enough!

The gardens are coiffed like a fine hair do!

Sipping a cider with my mates after a wicked day.

Going to Brighton tomorrow–a former seaside town for the London rich. Now it’s known as the number one gay seaside resort towns. Can’t wait.

A pub. Yes, they have many here, but each one is distinctive. Love the beautiful blue paint and curved architecture. This one is just around the corner from London Bridge.

Checked into this bike store looking for store shirts for T. No go. Maybe find some spots in Scotland. Wicked bikes, however. www.onyourbike.com.

The London Eye ferris wheel–stands 135 meters high on the south bank. Skipped it cause it cost 19 quid and took 30 minutes…can you imagine being stuffed into a glass case with 10 other people?  Well, depends who it is.

Buckingham Palace–swamped with tourists. Nutso! Pretty, but couldn’t leave fast enough. Felt like cattle.

ok, so Ray leaves me tomorrow. However, all is not lost. Meet Beevie–my new found friend and travelling companion. I love his spirit–his joie de vivre.

We met Beevie in a bar during the Aussie German football match. He’s Australian and so he was sitting with a Kangaroo having a local cider.

So, nuf said, Beevie has decided to follow me to Scotland.

This is truly one of those “you had to be there” moments, but I will try to explain. Ray and I were watching a busker in Covent Market–Giovanni from Spain.

He had a suitcase, a stuffed monkey name Frederico and a few plastic grocery bags and other incidental props. He started a bald man wearing a suit.  Slowly, he stripped down to nylons and put on a cropped black wig. Love how his belly sits on top of his nylons. Let it all hang out, Giovanni.

He explained that his show consisted of three acts–each punctuated with him crossing his arms in front of his chest exclaiming: “fusion.” The entire thing did not make a stitch of sense, but I was crying from laughter. I kept looking at Rachel in disbelief–what the hell did we find here. Half the fun was watching other people watch him.

Here he is during his romantic interlude with Frederico.

He did not give a s**t — he just made a complete fool out of himself–this was the beauty. It was odd, strange and silly. People walked by looking bewildered.

One man, the greyed haired man below, did not know what to make of Giovanni at first. But he warmed up to him–the man recognized it was a special kind of humour. Some people left early, but the man stayed till the end and helped Giovannia pack up.

For his finale, Giovanni leapt around swinging his plastic bags in each hand. Brilliant. We talked to him after–this is a new act for him so he choose a quiet Monday afternoon to try it out.

Well done, Giovanni. This is one of those things you never forget.

Not originally built as a prison, London Tower’s fame really comes from the beheading of Anne Boleyn, Henry the 8th’s wife.

Before she was executed, she remarked: “I heard say the executioner was very good, and I have a little neck.” A single stroke of the sword and the deed was done.

Sir Thomas More, one of Henry’s legal advisors, was a prisoner because he rejected Henry as the head of the church of England. Henry did not like discension.

Walked over the River Thames on the London bridge to the south bank of London to Covent Market.

Covent Market is certainly one of the most popular markets (most neighbourhoods have one or more)–vintage jewlery, antiques and art for sale. Inside, there’s tons of bakeries and Indian food, as common as pizza in London. These cupcakes don’t even look real.

In a London pub watching Germany verses Australia. 4-0 for Germany.

Every goal initiated a song from the zealous German fans behind us. After the second goal, the Aussies took their inflatable kangaroo and moved to the other side of the bar.

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It was a patriotic sing song every time a German played well, which was a lot for this game: they sang White Stripes’ Seven Nation Army, Hey Jude and a slew of German songs…Schalalalaaa…Sportfieduride Stiller (a band), So seheu sieger aus…chanting, pounding their fists on the tables and ah, the dancing.

Then, when a German player either scored or played well, they would chant his name. LUUU KAA –POOODDD o SKIIIIII

Then, they sang my favourite: no one likes us, we don’t care!

Thanks to the young German guys from Bavaria for the names of the songs. They also told us that those rowdies dancing were from Frankfurt…if that makes any difference. Apparently, the southerners are known for being more boisterious, but these guys shot that theory out of the water.

Thanks also to the German woman –sitting near us–who explained that football has two innings, or periods, or whatever you call them. We’re more about hockey in Canada, I told her. She thought curling was more popular. Ray told her –only for senoirs. She agreed. Damn Olympics.

Today Italy is playing–be sure to catch my video for that one.

Staying near Hyde Park –huge–apparently New York’s central park is modelled after Hyde. I love that it’s not sculpted scrubs and formal grounds. You can run for miles and it’s just trees, wild flowers and fields.

We trekked around all day taking the tube, which is enormous–so many lines.

Look kids, it’s Big Ben!

My favourite neighbourhood is Chelsea in the south. Tons of used clothing stores and cafes–bought a funky flowered skirt for 5 pounds.

However, ruined the ’savings mode’ when we hit Harrods –England’s high end department store that has been around for over a century. I spotted a dress for over $2000 pounds–oh, roughly $3000 Canadian. I did not buy a $3000 dress.

In St.Malo found pastry shops, bakeries, boulangeries, cafes…

I loved these sugar figurines…

I was stiffled by the choice of pastries below, so much so that I could not choose. Shameful. You know the feeling…you want it all but cannot contain yourself to one.

Ok, aside from the sweets, get a load of this tartlet. Love the hat. I wish I could wear this everyday in Canada–would not fly.

Cannot explain this photo any more than we came across a soldier wearing French underwear and a white tutu. C est tout!  Had to have a photo–Frenchy decided to pick me up.

We headed over to the old city and found a Maison du Quebec–an homage to the New World French. Here is a statue with some oh la la.

The coastline is full of islands only large enough for a single building. Today the weather picked up…lovely.

An enclosed pool near the ocean–haven for male teenagers strutting their stuff in front of les belles femmes.

Seaside fun.