I can’t say I was expecting dragons and snakes and palm trees and gilt sea shells… from the outside the Royal Pavilion is a highly ornate, but monochrome building in the pale beige of English limestone. Its towers and domes and minarets have the look of faded glory. A building once grand, but now stripped of its colour and life. It sits within small grounds close to the surrounding streets of Brighton looking intriguing, but somewhat less than a Royal palace.
You enter through a small portico into a low ceilinged room painted in pale peppermint green. It is the first splash of colour but is still far from giving you any expectation of what lies further within the pavilion. From the entry into the long gallery. Decorated in late 18th century chinoiserie style, gallery sweeps off to the left and right, again with a low ceiling and with a clutter of furniture. At each end of the gallery is the sweep of a staircase to the upper level… the stairs are pierced to allow light to shine through giving them a light, translucent, floating feel at the end of the dark hall. Turning right along the gallery and under the staircase at the end empties you with a gasp into the dining room. The room is a double height space and is design to impress. The central chandelier cascading from the ceiling and is suspended from the claws of a dragon, flying amongst the fronds of a palm tree that sweeps out across the ceiling.
The central light matched with four smaller versions in the corners of the room. The dining table is smaller than you expect. It’s only for 30 people with the Prince Regents extra wide chair centred along the side of the table. He clearly liked to be in the middle of the action.
The Royal Pavilion was the sea-side retreat for George IV while he was Prince Regent, during his father’s madness, and later while King himself.
After dinner guests would be moved from the dining room the next door drawing room and as the evening progressed they would move through a series of rooms to the Music Room at the opposite end of the Pavilion from the Dining Room. Again its hard to suppress a gasp when you enter the room. Dragons are joined by snakes on the walls and suspending the chandeliers. This time the lights look like upturned umbrellas and take the form of giant Lotus flowers. The ceiling above is a mosaic of gilt shells on the underside of the dome which glitter and shimmer in light.
I had no idea the Pavilion was as ornate and opulent as it is. From the outside, despite the fussiness of its facades, the building looks reasonably unassuming. It’s nice to be surprised.
Brighton is a fun place… the pier is a wonderfully tacky mix of new and old amusements, fish and chip and ice-cream, and there are restaurants, bars and pubs aplenty. The beach, with it’s pebbles, might not be the Gold Coast but its still a nice place to sit in the sun and look at the sea and the pier. There are even deck chairs for those who don’t want to get too close to the pebbles. I didn’t go near the water. I didn’t even take swimmers with me. But the 6 people who braved what I am sure was icy Atlantic water seemed to be enjoying themselves.
You enter through a small portico into a low ceilinged room painted in pale peppermint green. It is the first splash of colour but is still far from giving you any expectation of what lies further within the pavilion. From the entry into the long gallery. Decorated in late 18th century chinoiserie style, gallery sweeps off to the left and right, again with a low ceiling and with a clutter of furniture. At each end of the gallery is the sweep of a staircase to the upper level… the stairs are pierced to allow light to shine through giving them a light, translucent, floating feel at the end of the dark hall. Turning right along the gallery and under the staircase at the end empties you with a gasp into the dining room. The room is a double height space and is design to impress. The central chandelier cascading from the ceiling and is suspended from the claws of a dragon, flying amongst the fronds of a palm tree that sweeps out across the ceiling.The central light matched with four smaller versions in the corners of the room. The dining table is smaller than you expect. It’s only for 30 people with the Prince Regents extra wide chair centred along the side of the table. He clearly liked to be in the middle of the action.
The Royal Pavilion was the sea-side retreat for George IV while he was Prince Regent, during his father’s madness, and later while King himself.
After dinner guests would be moved from the dining room the next door drawing room and as the evening progressed they would move through a series of rooms to the Music Room at the opposite end of the Pavilion from the Dining Room. Again its hard to suppress a gasp when you enter the room. Dragons are joined by snakes on the walls and suspending the chandeliers. This time the lights look like upturned umbrellas and take the form of giant Lotus flowers. The ceiling above is a mosaic of gilt shells on the underside of the dome which glitter and shimmer in light.
I had no idea the Pavilion was as ornate and opulent as it is. From the outside, despite the fussiness of its facades, the building looks reasonably unassuming. It’s nice to be surprised.
Brighton is a fun place… the pier is a wonderfully tacky mix of new and old amusements, fish and chip and ice-cream, and there are restaurants, bars and pubs aplenty. The beach, with it’s pebbles, might not be the Gold Coast but its still a nice place to sit in the sun and look at the sea and the pier. There are even deck chairs for those who don’t want to get too close to the pebbles. I didn’t go near the water. I didn’t even take swimmers with me. But the 6 people who braved what I am sure was icy Atlantic water seemed to be enjoying themselves.
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