It's like old and stuff. Older than Britney Spears.

Monday morning it was rather ugly outside. (It turned out there was quite the storm going on -or had been going on) Ugly weather coupled with the vicious awakening at the hands of the bastard garbage truck and several hundred glass bottles made for prickly attitude where I said I hated Brighton and wanted to commit arson against a specific hotel. Instead for the good of civilization and the genuine reality that I like Brighton a lot, we decided to leave. We got a tiny bit lost getting out of the city but we quickly found our way. I do want to come back. I think I will stay at a different place, spend a little more time preparing to visit and not go at the end of a holiday when one is more grumpy and apt to dislike everything because one is missing their own bed.
Yes so, on the A27. ( We were going to slowly work our way toward Heathrow. )