I’m suffering pretty badly with feelings of wanderlust lately, so much that I’ve been spending a lot of time trawling through photos from last years travels. Last summer we were lucky enough to go for a long weekend to Brighton, a place I’ve always been curious to visit.
We wandered aimlessly through the lanes and admiring the picturesque views of the Royal Pavilion and iconic Brighton beach front whilst eating our body weight in food. Eating things like smashed pea on toast from Larder and perfectly soft boa buns from Terre a Terre (I dream of those boa buns, they were probably one of the best things I’ve eaten). I feel like its justified that most of my travelling centres around eating.
Everything in the bright summer sun takes on an idealistic hazy quality when you think back to them. I’m anxious to go out exploring again.