My favourite place in Brighton is somewhere that you pass through as much as a place in itself. Walking down West Street, which I find quite grungey and dull, you come to the underpass at the end of West Street. Though it’s not the underpass as such, because that’s even worse. It’s like a funnel for the filth and grime on West Street.
But, particularly in the summer, when you get to the end of the underpass, you see the light and the beach and the sea. You come out of this concrete mess and it seems more natural. The beach and the sea in the summer – it’s just like being on holiday.