Throughout September we’re hosting digital art exhibitions as part of Brighton Digital Festival before packing our bags here at Lighthouse and getting settled in ourselves.
The auditorium has an exposed rear brick wall which makes the space pop. I hope that people get to take a look around during the next month and start planning to put their events on in the new space.
Saturday was the start of a new chapter. We said goodbye to Cami’s car, which we’ve been sharing since the start of this year (I’ve already said goodbye to my war wounded MG ZR).
The 206 has now been replaced by a 2-seater, BMW Z4. It’s blue, it has a soft top and it bounces around the shitty roads of Brighton like a wooden cart. It is damn tidy though.
It’s first test drive was over to Headcorn Aerodrome, where Cami finally took advantage of the birthday present I got her exactly a year ago. At 18:30 she was strapped into a standing seat on top of a 1940s commercial bi-plane. A few minutes later, the engine was running and she was airborne. It’s hard to describe what I was thinking whilst she was flying around above, the main feeling was of pride, doing something out of her comfort zone and overcoming her fear of flying & vertigo in a single swoop.
Sunday saw a 5AM start for the first really big ride on the bike 2-up to Silverstone for the MotoGP – my birthday present for this year.
We met up with Gaz and began the chilly ride up the M23, M25, M40 to Silverstone. It wasn’t much fun to start with, a bit early, and not quite prepared for it, but a stop at the services just outside Oxford gave us time to re-evaluate and get things back on track.
Coming and going of course the traffic was shit, but that’s what you have two wheels for.
Once we had got through the gates and emptied our bladders we hooked up with the rest of the Brighton gang at Becketts with just enough time for ordering Bacon baguettes before the Moto2 race kicked off.
The stands were freezing, which begs belief because it was a really nice day and the sun was plenty hot. Everyone was huddled up with their gear still on then stripping off on the way out.
We missed all the excitement of the warm up session arriving literally as the last few exhaust pops went round Copse. Frankly, the MotoGP was a limp event, with the exception of the sheer determination of Marquez managing to complete the race in 2nd in what I imagine was a great deal of agony. Crutchlow got stuffed on the start line and spent the rest of the race in no mans land. The rather tidy tangle between Rossi and Bautista was really the highlight.
Long ride home, but finished with the best shower in the world.