Brighton Day Trip

So, Karma Sheen, a band of ridiculously good musicians, who I have followed for a while now, scheduled their last fund-raiser for their first trip to SXSW in Austin Texas to be Monday night. The venue on Queen’s Road, Brighton is about 400 metres from the railway station and after checking train times and tickets, I set off.

My journey south was straight-forward via Liverpool Street and Farringdon. As the train approached Hassocks, I could see a bank of fog nestling below the South Downs. This weather is common in Sussex as either equinox approaches when warm days meet chilly nights by the sea. The fog clings to the foot of the chalk downland and envelops the coast from Eastbourne to Littlehampton. By Brighton, the world had turned monochrome.

I met up with a former colleague from just along the coast, who was also coming to the gig. After a bite to eat in the Caxton Arms, we popped by the venue to see how the sound-check was going. Well, at that time, when the band would normally be chilling before the set, they were rushing around to get everything plugged in.

The sitar and theremin man, Rod hadn’t even arrived, but his sitar had. Sameer, the driving force of the band was not entirely chilled. Arun, the drummer, who has more than most kit to set up, was operating at full speed. Bass and rhythm guitarists, Grisha and Amad were, as is standard, pretty cool.

Michael and I moved onto The Earth & Stars to fill the time and time flew. We thought that we would have missed the start of Karma Sheen’s set, but that wasn’t the case, it was worse. They had yet to go on stage and I had to leave for the station. I left Michael in the audience and strode up the hill to find my train. I could not afford to miss the 21:14h back to Farringdon. I had things planned for Tuesday.

There is none of the charm of Manchester Victoria at Liverpool Street Station. It was a bit dull waiting for the last train home, although the station was surprisingly busy for a Monday night.

At Ipswich the train was replaced by a coach service. The driver was beside himself with tiredness. He was rubbing his face, changing the radio station, ruffling his hair, putting his cap on and taking it off his head again, opening his side window, desperately tiring to stay awake. It was tough driving with fog here too.

After only a couple of miles, the woman sitting across the aisle from me, clipped into her seatbelt. I took the hint and followed suit. I then tried shutting my eyes as it was scary sitting in the front seat watching the road swing and swerve about as we hurtled along. When the road-sign read Norwich 20, I was quietly relieved. We seemed to be going quickly, but the miles were crawling by.

Obviously, we got back in one piece. I thanked the driver for getting us there twenty minutes earlier than expected, then grabbed a cab home.

~

CLP 09/03/2026