I tend to rise late, the lack of a nine-to-five schedule being one of the advantages of life as a freelancer.
So I was completely caught off guard when Tim from Motionpath called me this morning and said:
"Jeremy, have you seen? The West Pier is on fire!"
Time for me to change from early morning bumbling mode to on-the-spot picture snapping blogging mode.
While I was changing into something more decent, not wanting to upset the citizens of Brighton even more with the sight of me in my pyjamas, I just kept thinking "this is ridiculous!". First, the West Pier starts collapsing into the sea, then the Palace Pier catches fire and now this. It’s like Clash Of The Piers, Pier Wars, Battle Of The Piers.
By the time I got down to the beach, the fire was out and the end of the pier was a smoking skeletal hulk. I snapped off a few pictures of the coastguard helicopter surveying the mess and then turned ‘round to get home to my obligatory dose of caffeine.
I don’t think I’m cut out to be an on-the-spot reporter.
Luckily, Tim had already taken plenty of pictures.