This is the third Brighton page, and the last of this series........what a job putting them together, nearly as bad as having to go there to take the pics. The page starts of on a happy note as the home pictured first is still in use and looks quite happy.
This is the house where Augustuses lived. It is still well kept and in use as an office, and does look quite happy.
This was Golding's home, just standing there looking very sad, it was almost beckoning for me to come in and recharge its batteries by doing something human inside. It gazes outward remembering a time long gone when happy people lived there. I remember when the Golding's had gone on long leave one time, all their belongings were put into the main bedroom (centre front with air-con hole in this pic), and we got in to the closed-up house and were able to worm our way through the little hatch that allowed access to the telephone, both in the main living room and the bedroom....not to steal or anything, just to face the challenge. On this trip, I did not go to the back to visit the hog-plum tree and the drain that we used to dam-up and sail our biscuit tin barges in.
This is all that was left of the Mess that eventually became the Club after the original club was torn down quite a few years ago. Nothing identifiable.....the little roadway with the semi circular drive that stood out in front is too overgrown to explore. Brought back memories of the stories of the exploits of the bachelors, and Eddy Milne who was just a super nice guy, and Malcolm Brown who paid us kids lots of attention were special to us all. Quentin Scott, Johnny Guitar and Russel Lewis with the monkey are some of the great names that come back to mind.
The old mast, we understood it to have originally been a ship's mast??? still stands, master of all is surveys. Fittingly, sitting astride its highest point is a corbeau (buzzard) looking down on what can only be described as the death of a gentle and gracious time.
I have left the entrance to the old Guest House to last. Augustus Long's Trinidad residence and a beautiful stately building that more than any other represents the peace, tranquility and graciousness of the time. Reduced to an equal position by the persistent bush and the stupidity of man.