After being awoken in the middle of the night, very loud snoring that was going on on the other side of the room made it tricky to lose consciousness again. I eventually managed it – after trying to sleep in an awkward position with my pillow over my head; I woke up feeling rather stiff, had a headache, and I forgot when breakfast was set off to: down there, a massive jar of Nutella seemed to be functioning as a device that spurted out the substance when a handle was grasped, I stuck an apple in my bag, a man holding a big orange sack of something was stood by the hotel entrance doors, chairs repeatedly made horrendous screeching noises on the floor, a lady was telling someone they were going to the Cotswolds today, I put sausages in my bag; and when being told where we were going today I realised I’d forgotten where we were in the country; and as the chair screeching continued, I decided to take the mug back to the room.

I forgot when the room – and the hotel – got left; but outside, a bulldozer was driven past on Hollybush Row by a man with a cigarette in his mouth, the Royal Oxford Hotel didn’t look very royal, I forgot when we got to the station, where a baby in a pram was waving his or her legs around and wailing a bit, an announcement that I wasn’t sure was being made by a human or a robot was telling us all (for our own safety) that train doors can close up to 40 seconds before departure, there was a bleeding control kit as well as a defibrillator on a wall; and then I forgot when we got on a train because seat finding took some effort. A slightly less well spoken robot than on the London trains was reciting the ‘see it, say it, sorted’ motto, there was some very grey cloud around, a girl across the aisle was eating some sort of coleslaw-y gloop from a pot, the line seemed bumpy, Google thought we weren’t far from the River Thames, my bag didn’t smell very nice (due to the breakfast substances in it); and at 10.15am – a couple of massive fields seemed to be housing the Reading Festival (and something about Pepsi Max was advertised). I’d forgotten where we were going/if I’d been told where we were going by then (and Mum appearing to be intermittently losing consciousness was making me slightly nervous); the carriage was wobbling a lot, there was graffiti on the walls of the rail line before Paddington station, and the Elizabeth Line was intermittently visible; then 3 different robots said stuff (including the ‘see it, say it, sorted’ motto), Paddington didn’t look very nice and the rails were screeching a lot; and it was 10.55am when we got off.

Some confusion was caused by asking a man which platform to go to for a train to Farringdon – as whether he said 8 or A wasn’t entirely audible; I forgot when we got on an Elizabeth Line train (which smelt a bit weird), and there were no doors between the carriages, and a sign said no e-scooters or e-unicycles were allowed on TfL premises or services. We got off (and I forgot when), Farringdon had a massive platform, electric doors and massive escalators…

I forgot when we got on the next train; and on that one, most people were phone poking. London Blackfriars was the next station – and wasn’t very far from The Shard, London Bridge was right next to it, a lady further down the carriage was eating floppy processed cheese slices; and a different robot recited the see it, say it, sorted motto at East Croydon, where Scrumbles pet food was advertised, a couple of people who’d plonked themselves on the carriage floor seemed to be feeling each other up a bit, a ‘clay and play studio’ was near Honiley station; and rain started just after 12pm when Gatwick was stopped at. A woman sat with a man and 1 child has what seemed to be a self help book open on her lap – titled ‘Breaking The Habit Of Being Yourself’; a girl (3→4 years ish) had been sat – in front of her mother – on 1 of the foldable tables that flip down from the backs of seats and was being fed some sort of rice-y substance; another small child didn’t want to hold their parent’s hand when being escorted down the train, a different family had their daughter munching cucumber by the penultimate stop; a lady had a fish shaped plastic hair clip on her head; and at 12.43pm we got off at Brighton railway station, and Google tried to direct us to the hotel.

Mr Wang Hoo Noodles, The Afro Hair Academy, and lots of To Let signs were passed, some singing was coming from somewhere; and then we passed at least 2 vape shops, a couple feeling each other up outside another shop, rain started, there was a place called Barbara’s Bier Haus near the front of the pier; and I forgot when we got to the hotel because there were a lot of signs for Doubletree cookies, and we were told by a receptionist that check in time was 4pm.

We ended up sat in the bar area with free cookies, I was given my present – which was a new wrist support (so I put it on), and there was a ‘request an Uber’ screen, a ‘rent a power bank’ stand, and a ‘rent an umbrella’ stand; after struggles with the Wi-Fi we connected; and then an employee had a chat to us – with topics including social media and how it’s changed human interaction, climate change concerns, and the earthquake in Venezuela in June. Mum started speaking German to her tablet, a couple of quite elderly looking people were in chairs phone poking, I felt like I’d eaten too much, saw an employee shaking a cocktail shaker behind the bar, I noticed an offshore wind farm and then we went looking for the cloakroom. We tried, failed, bumped into another guest looking for it, and I forgot what that resulted in.

It was 22°C with 43km/h gusts at 3.15pm when we next left the building – and posters advertising Brighton Psychfest were by the seafront, rather unpleasant fishy smells were wafting, my hair went everywhere, and seagulls were everywhere.

We went into a small shop called Archie’s which was selling a lot of stuff for dogs; and we continued, passed people trying to salsa on a bandstand, reached a big statue of a person with wings, saw people playing pétanque; and went down on to a brick path.

Down there, a man was flat on his back on the gravel, seagulls in the sky were struggling to remain on course, a bloke was walking a dog with very flobbedy ears, there were a couple of people visible in the RNLI West Pier hut/box, a big ‘DANGER’ sign/banner was blowing around, a rent a deck chair stall was closing up for the day, a person was twizzling a thin multi-coloured pole around; and my hair went everywhere and I couldn’t see enough to write anything until we made it back to the hotel – where our room was ready.

We followed a sign which led to a fire exit, turned round and went the other way – and up in our room, overlooking the sea, the tide was visibly coming in, and waves were getting bigger, there were more birds not going forwards very fast, then I fathomed the TV remote, Mum put a bathrobe on and ate a sausage, the room service menu didn’t have a lot on it; and by supper time – the Met Office thought the maximum gusts at Hove West Beach were 34km/h (they looked and felt much much more)…

…and the Brighton viewing pod had lit itself up for the night.