The everyday blog of Richard Bartle.
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8:38am on Thursday, 10th July, 2014:
I'm staying in the Hilton in Brighton, because that's where the conference is. It has flashes of its former glory as the Metropole, but is a little worn in places. When I arrived on Tuesday, I found half a dozen little moths in the room, for example, nestling in various towels, bedding and tissues. It's still quite up-market, though, even to the extent of having some English members of staff.
Next door is the Grand hotel. This is famous as being the scene of the 1984 Brighton Bombing, in which the IRA attempted to kill off the Prime Minister and her cabinet (who were staying there for the Conservative Party Conference). It has a more persona connection for me, though, as it's where my brother died. I thought I'd better not stay there, as doing so would have caused my mother sleepless nights.
The Grand does look rather grand at a distance:
Up close, though, it too is showing signs of disrepair:
Maybe I'll take a look inside later.
Oh, by the way, Hilton Metropole, this is a fancy little radio/mp3 alarm clock you've put in my room, but it only works when the room lights are on. Switch off the lights and the power goes. You didn't realy think that through, did you?
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