When you move to the seaside, there's one thing you can expect and that's lots of visitors. If I'd known how popular it would make us I'd have moved years ago. At first leaving my beloved London felt like a massive wrench. For fifteen years it felt like the centre of the universe and I worried that if I stepped out of zone 4 I'd fall to my death into a big smoking crack in the earth. But apparently not. Brighton is the first stop on the seaside train and at the first sign of sun is heaving with be-Croc'd Londoners.
Within weeks of arriving we've already had a steady stream of visitors. Which is brilliant, however, come the summer months I worry that this could get out of hand, like when a cheeky weekend visit turns into two weeks full board in August. If this is the case, I shall be putting my best landlady grimace, hoiking up my formidible bust and insisting on a maximum two night rule.
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