Brighton
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By the time my coach rolled into Brighton, the intermittent rain that might have plagued my day had petered off, though the skies remain cloudy. The city, as it passed by my window, appeared plain and nondescript until we turned a corner and the fairy-tale like turrets of the Royal Pavilion came into view. The bus terminated conveniently only a few meters away from the Pavilion and I headed there excitedly.
Brighton’s biggest attraction, the Royal Pavilion (left), has attracted visitors for at least two centuries. It is a vast complex of fantastical buildings that evolved from a little farmhouse cottage that King George IV used from 1783 for his secret liaisons with Mrs. Fitzherbert, the widow he loved but was forbidden to marry. Commissioning architect Henry Holland to create a classically styled villa on the site, George was delighted when the palace evolved into a marvel of Chinese design. When his father George III was declared insane in 1811, George became Prince Regent and commissioned John Nash to enlarge the villa. Nash transformed it into a confection of Oriental buildings, complete with minarets and onion domes–as Samuel Taylor Coleridge might have said, it became Xanadu–“a stately pleasure dome” of sorts . Indeed Nash let his creative energies run riot, borrowing freely from Islamic Moorish, Berber and Moghul styles—a combination that he somewhat quaintly termed “the Hindoo style”. The end result is a series of palatial halls and courts through which the visitor roams quite bemusedly. Thank heavens for the audio guide provided with the admissions ticket (7 pounds) that allowed prolonged inspection of the premises. If you think the exterior is an oddity, wait till you explore the interiors. They quite took my breath away. For George favored the Orientalist style of interior décor that the eighteenth century’s penchant for Baroque excess most admired, resulting in a kind of look that came to be called “chinoisserie”. Characterized by elaborate wall paper and silk tapestry hangings, porcelain figurines, exotic chandeliers and lanterns in lotus designs and the frequent appearance of gilded dragons and snakes all executed in the Chinese style, these rooms truly beggar description. The Banqueting Room, for instance, is so magnificent and so completely covered by opulent design elements that the eye is overwhelmed by so much bedazzlement. There are marble mantelpieces, richly carved furniture, silk draperies on the windows, plush carpets underfoot, as well as china, crystal and silver to fill many museums. A brilliant use of mirrors creates fascinating illusions everywhere as reflections follow the visitor around the rooms. Faux bamboo is ubiquitous especially when worked in metal and wood. The massive kitchen is a chef’s dream with its gleaming copperware, countless crocks and innumerable baskets. Hundreds of guests were fed, entertained and housed in this grandiose environment, no doubt feeling deeply privileged at being permitted such an intimate glimpse into the life of royalty. But all good things must come to an end, even for kings and their companions. George IV was king from 1820 to 1830. When he grew old and infirm, the same space in which he had once held court before a stunned audience became a retreat for quiet seclusion. Seeking privacy, he escaped to Brighton, and spent the last ill years of his life in the company of his daughter Charlotte. His brother William IV (1830-1837) shared George’s fondness for Brighton but their niece, Queen Victoria (1837-1901) found the town too crowded and sold the Pavilion to the Town of Brighton in 1850, having first stripped it of its most coveted accoutrements. Most of the furnishings found in the Pavilion today are reproductions of those once possessed by George IV or are similar to the kind of fine goods that gentlemen of the day preferred. Leaving the extravagance of the Royal Pavilion behind, I crossed North Street to stroll through “The Lanes”, a maze of narrow alleys that once comprised the village of Brightelmstone. Today, the quaint lanes are a shopper’s paradise of boutiques and eateries that entice with their interesting window displays. I lunched on a stack of chocolate profiteroles that I found quite irresistible in the cold cupboards at Sainsbury’s, people-watching unabashedly as the world passed by. Brighton has a huge selection of shops because once holiday-makers have had their fill of the sea and its pleasures, the need to lighten their wallets by splurging on baubles seems hard to resist. Sparkling shopping malls line the busy commercial area where a Clock Tower marks the confluence of several store-crammed streets.
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