As the purpose of this blog is to report on the places I go to I might as well start now.

The very first leg of my Homeric trip is a mysterious and exotic city. Brighton, East Sussex, UK. A wonderful place where the fashionable, the old and the gay congregate to live by the sea and buy kitchenware (so it appears). I am also here to develop a vital skill to all backpackers: Mooching off a relative.

What to see in Brighton:
-The Brighton Pavilion. A faux-Indian folly built by George the 4th as a splendid example that blue blood and old money do not equate with taste. He approached architecture with same qualities with which he dealt with his finances and his love life; with laughable incompetence.

- The Brighton Piers. One is a burnt out shell half collapsed into the sea and the other is not worth seeing. I have never understood the British seaside fascination with piers. As far as I can see they are basically pontoons with huts. However, a good ruin is always nice. They should torch the other one for the sake of symmetry. I’m sure Brighton’s cider addled teenagers will soon make this so.

-The people. Brighton has developed into a mecca for the weird. You can wonder around the town and watch the natives help Britain’s ever-growing debt recovery business in a quest to ensure they get their own unique style. As a result they all look the same. As my only consideration for any purchase of clothing for the past year has been jungle rot, I find it very amusing

Myself, I have decided to make my last days in Blighty consistent with the rest of my time here by going to the pub, drinking ale and eating pies.

Next stop, the most overhyped town in the world. Paris

Arabin