A quick dash into the city by train, to one of my absolute favourite shops, Il Papiro, was undertaken last weekend to purchase some gifts for a friend’s significant birthday.
On the return journey, just as the train was about to depart from the CBD, a quietly spoken family (father, mother and 2 young children) joined the empty carriage in
which I was seated. The map in the mother’s hand and snippets of conversation suggested that they were country residents en route to see the Brighton bathing boxes. As the train made its way out of the CBD, the father confidently pointed out the city’s landmarks to his children.
|Brighton Bathing boxes|
Along the train line, one can occasionally catch a glimpse of graffiti-art juxtaposed with what can only be described as ugly acts of vandalism executed with spray cans. “ Some of that graffiti is historical now”, proclaimed the father. “What’s historical? inquired his young son. “Well, it’s like when the Romans invaded bits of Europe”, explained the father in a less self-assured tone.
A 5 second silence followed, then a little voice said, “So when did the Romans come here?” No reply. The conversation was skilfully diverted to the previous evening’s football game. As the train approached my station I stood at the door to hear a child inquiring, “Do we still have another holiday to go this year or is this the only one?” The train door closed behind me.