Sunday, August 03, 2008

Journey to Braaaghtin.

I have used the affected way for saying Brighton so many times over a long period, I can no longer say it naturally. Are Kath and Kim who were to blame for this?

I had some strong family connections to Brighton, but all that was when it was not quite so posh.

While Brighton has a pretty good train service and a decent bus service, it felt swamped by cars. You don't really go through Brighton to go somewhere, unless it along the beach road or Nepean Highway. Most of the cars contained local people going to local shops.

We were summonsed by the Brighton Antique Dealer to attend her birthday party at the Brighton Hotel in Bay Street. While she denied it was her birthday, and Dame M is longer around to inform us, we just guessed. Not recognising it meant no card and gift, so that is a bonus and Highriser can afford a smallish bowl of rice to eat this week.

There was no obvious sign, not even discreet one, that we were at Bay Street as we drove down New Street. As usual when going somewhere, I thought I knew where Bay Street was precisely and so did not bother to look it up. We went on to Church Street and I knew I had gone wrong.

We went back and of course, that big intersection was where Bay Street crossed. It took forever to find somewhere to park, but later we learnt of the motel that had parking for $2.

The food, the prices, the staff were all excellent at the Brighton Hotel, but the noise level was extreme. It would be I think, the noisiest place I have ever eaten. At some point something clicked and I realised I had worked here behind the now altered bar in 197*. Asterisk is because I am not sure of the year. It was only for two days. It was horrid. I did a Friday night full of obnoxious underage private school kids, and the Saturday night was full of people who thought they were in a five star restaurant. The pub called me to work on the Monday, and I declined.

Outside the pub window I saw the 220 bus. Wow, we could have caught the bus. Actually I knew one of the three buses that goes past our home, goes along Bay Street, as the Brighton Antique Dealer uses it since she no longer drives.

The thirteen of us all trooped back to BAD's place and admired her house renovations. We had not been there since she broke her arm a couple of years ago and we took Dame M with us to take flowers. As soon as I saw the stair inclinator, I remembered Dame M regally rising up to the second storey with a queen like wave to us below. We weren't out for that long, but it was a very nice evening. BAD's orgasmic......well she said that, organic coffee was excellent. 'Bring you coffee over here Andrew, and we can orgasm together'.

I think BAD is 73, and still working and travelling. Under her sometimes over the top outgoing nature, is the mind of a steel trap and a business brain to match. She makes a better friend than an enemy.

7 comments:

  1. I have owned houses in Durrant, Davies, and Dendy Streets Braaghton and can honestly say it was Braaghton before Pru n Trude.
    All the posh people in Braaghton moved there from other places.
    My aunties have been there since
    WW2 and are totally unglamorous.

    I love it that you had nearly forgotten your working at the hotel!

    Mwah! Mwah!

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  2. The BAD sounds like a great lady, almost on par with Dame M. Hope I'm as sharp and independent when I reach her age ;)

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  3. I don't like Brighton. Too many tractors.

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  4. People get to go out for their birthdays? Why wasn't I told?
    But then I'd probably meet up with drunken reprobates wherever I went, Melbourne, Fleetwood, Brighton.

    Yes, I've read all your comments MiLords, three little words for you......MAKE YOUR WILLS!!!

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  5. Similar sorts of rels as mine Ann. I just remembered something else. At any other hotel I worked in, I used to have a glass of cloves and lemonade to sip always at the end of the bar. I wasn't allowed to at the Braaaghton Hotel.

    She is great Jayne, but really, quite different to Dame M. She is without the veneer of prim and proper that Dame M carried. Almost a different generation, although only about nine years between them. Part Italian background too.

    No worse than Toorak, South Yarra and Malvern Reuben. We had a friend, over ten years ago now, who moved out of Malvern because he could not cope with the tractors.

    Come on Jahteh, you would feel quite comfortable with drunken reprobates. Don't murder M'lord. There is still a tiny bit of laugh value left in him yet.

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  6. "But then I'd probably meet up with drunken reprobates wherever I went, Melbourne, Fleetwood, Brighton."

    Birds of a feather and all that, Witchy.

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  7. How come I don't get all these blokes chasing after me Jahteh?
    They want to steal your chocolate or clearly, you can still pull?

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Whenever I wish I was young again, I am sobered by memories of algebra.