Urban Exploration

The Brighton skyline has never really been something that I have paid much attention to. Its not that I have a lack of interest in my concrete surrounds, however the rows of Regency houses, elegant Victorian squares and such grand 'ground-level' architecture have taken up the most-part of my half-arsed observations.

Today, my good friend Saul and I took it upon ourselves to have a go at conquering the infamous, white washed postcard-blighting giant that, it turned out, we never really noticed before. After a bit of aimless internet research, we found some out some background information about our target: "Sussex Heights". At 330 feet, the tallest building in Sussex. Sorted.

The main thing on my mind, apart from the imminent late night navigation through crack-ridden Regency Square, was the fact that I had never really noticed it before, and at 330 feet, it's not exactly discreet to say the least. The actual location of the building is fascinating, sandwiched just in behind a couple of car-parks and Brighton's very own answer to consumerist purgatory, Churchill Square Shopping Centre. Fascinating because, granted, you can see the fucking thing from a mile off, but when one is at what is basically touching distance, it's impossible to locate.

Our original presumption was that this was in fact a council block, due to, no offence, its 'social' appearance, and its hazy descriptions online as 'residential.' Adrenaline was beginning to flow, after all, a degree in Biomolecular Medicine is not needed for one to know that trying to get to the top of a tower block at 9 o'clock at night is a fucking stupid idea. Oh well.

When we eventually stumbled across the entrance to the place, down a side street just next to the entrance to an underground car park, we were very much mistaken. It was like going back in time. I presume that the thing was built around the 1970s, and in terms of the interior, the wooden cladding and hideously periodic sofa sitting in the reception had not changed one bit. With a quick lie and a bit of doorbell Russian-roulette, we were in. Straight in the lift. Hoods up.

Unfortunately the roof was locked, but luckily the architect had accounted for bored students seeking moderate excitement and installed some windows in the stairwell, of which we put to good use. Mission accomplished, and, Sussex Heights: we are not finished with you yet. As I said in my previous post, watch this space.

All in all, no oil painting, and Gaudi himself would most probably turn in his grave if were ever to refer to it as architecture, but Sussex Heights is pretty cool. I recommend it. Also, contemporary proof that the world is just in fact people walking in and out of different rooms, so if you want to explore a new room that you have not yet done so, ring on a few door bells and tell the confused array of tenants that your uncle has locked himself out of his flat and you are here to save the day.

Over and out.