This November, the LEGO® Wind Turbine moves to its new home at Park Square, Brighton Marina, in celebration of LEGO reaching its target of 100% renewable energy capacity a 3 years early.
In May, LEGO was awarded a Guinness World Record for creating the world’s largest wind turbine made from LEGO bricks and now you too can visit the impressive 7.5m model in Brighton Marina from Saturday 4th November and throughout the coming months.
A team of LEGO experts from Czech Republic, Hungary, France, and UK spent around 600 hours building the LEGO brick turbine, using 146,000 LEGO bricks.
Six hundred years ago or more or, if you please, in days of yore,
A wicked wight yclept 'Old Nick', renowned for many a wanton trick,
With envy from the Downs beheld the studded churches of the Weald.
Here Poyning's cruciform and there, Hurst, Albourne, Bolney, Newtimber.
Cuckfield and more with towering crest, quae nunc prae scribere longum est.
Oft heard the undulating chime, proclaim aloud 'twas service time.
While to the sacred house of prayer went many a pious worshipper.
"Can I with common patience see these churches and not one for me?"
"Shall I be cheated of my due by such a sanctimonius crew?"
He muttered twenty things beside and swore that night the foaming tide,
Led through a deep and wondrous trench, should give those pious souls a drench.
Adown the West the steeds of day, hasted merrily away,
And night in solemn pomp came on, her lamp a star, a cloud her throne.
So Nick began with much ado, to cut those lofty downs in two.
At every lift his spade threw out a thousand waggon-loads no doubt.
Oh! had he laboured to the morrow his envious work had wreaked much sorrow.
The Weald, a wide and beauteous place, o'erwhelmed a sad and watery waste.
But so it chanced a good old dame, whose deed has long outlived her name,
Waked by the cramp at midnight's hour, or just escaped the nightmare's power.
Rose from her humble bed when lo, she heard Nick's terrible ado,
And by the starlight dimly spied that wicked wight and dyke so wide.
And, as with wonderment amazed, at workman and at work she gazed,
Swift cross her mind a thought there flew, that she by stratagem might do,
A deed which luckily would save, her county from a watery grave.
Forth from her casement in a minute, a sieve with flaming candle in it,
She held to view, and simple Nick, who ne'er suspected such a trick,
Scared at the sight of a new sun, fled, his work undone,
And muttering curses that the day should drive him from his work away.
Night after night our heedful dame, watched, but again Nick never came.
Who now dare call the action evil, to hold a candle to the Devil?
Twenty-four of the original cast- iron columns removed from the West Pier have been transported to a foundry for professional treatment and will be re-used as part of the new landscaping scheme on the east side of the BAi360. The design and arrangement of the columns is inspired by the 'Golden Spiral' which is used to achieve balance and harmony in architecture, art and design.
The historic columns are beautiful but functional artefacts which originally supported the lavishly decorative structure above, and new cast-iron column surrounds have been designed to suggest the relationship between functional and decorative.
Historic aspects are also reflected by the inclusion of two carefully chosen quotes from "Walking on Water" — a history of the West Pier by Fred Gray, and lead to the central plaque that puts Eugenius Birch, designer of the West Pier, at the very heart of the spiral.
The Golden Spiral, otherwise known as the Fibonacci spiral (after the Italian mathematician) is a curve that increases constantly in size without changing its basic shape. This is demonstrated by using squares which also increase in size using the Fibonacci scale, i.e. 0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5 where each number is the sum of the 1, 1, 2, 3, 5 where each number is the sum of the preceding two.
The French architect, Le Corbusier used the Fibonacci series of numbers in his system of proportion "Le Modulor" and the system is frequently observed in nature, for example, within shells, the cochlea of the human ear, and even spiral galaxies. It can also be seen in the formation of hurricanes, the shape of certain spider webs and the arrangement of seeds in a sunflower.
A key to the Clock Tower that was presented to the town of Brighton in 1887 has travelled all the way across the world to be returned to the city 129 years later.
Brett Dubois, the great great grandson of Alderman Edward Martin, the Mayor of Brighton in 1887, came over from Australia to present the key back to Brighton & Hove.
James Willing, who gifted the clock tower to the city, gave the key to Alderman Martin and the town of Brighton.
It was then passed down from generation to generation of Alderman Martin’s family, finally ending up with Brett.
Brett and his partner, Yan Pothin, stopped by the mayor’s office where they returned the key to Mayor Pete West and Former Mayor, Councillor Denise Cobb and visited the clock tower.
Although most public telephones have now been made redundant by the mobile phone network, the familiar red boxes are still hanging on in conservation areas and their removal would leave the street scene much the poorer. In their favour they all have electricity supplies and are very solidly built and durable. Some in busy areas have already been ingeniously converted to coffee kiosks.
Now a series of planning applications from architects M B Design & Build, working with the charity "Thinking Outside the Box", British Telecom and other registered charities, are seeking to convert other boxes for advertising.
“Thinking Outside the Box” is a charitable trust supporting homeless projects
around the country by undertaking to give a percentage of their earnings from
the retail uses of converted phone boxes.
It is proposed to adapt disused boxes in Marine Parade, Trafalgar Street, Churchill Square, Dyke Road and St. Peter's Place to house full height LCD screens positioned immediately behind the glazed sides of the kiosks. The kiosks will be fully refurbished, fitted with toughened glass and repainted. The only other modification needed is to the door which involves installing a lock behind the pull plate.
In addition the Exploratory Lunacycle has brought its rock samples to Hove Museum, the Little Dragon Carpet Sweeper is cleaning in the Booth Museum, and the "Fairway Birdie" is playing golf at Ditchling Museum.
It was a glorious sunny Saturday morning of Whitsun Bank Holiday weekend 1964.
My best friend, Teresa, and I were planning a trip to Brighton for some seaside frolics. Firstly, we headed for Charlie’s stall in Watford Market and each bought a pair of 501 Levis. Marilyn Monroe had recently glamourised women in jeans. Although we were only just 15, skinny and flat-chested, we thought we were the last word in feminine seduction. And we were Mods.
We packed our little bags and headed off for an adventure in our dark blue, very stiff new jeans, with turned-up bottoms and securely belted.
Our attempts at hitching a lift were very quickly rewarded when an older guy in an open top racing green MG pulled over. He welcomed us on board and whisked us off towards Brighton, our long hair flying unfettered in our wake. We were both totally fearless and trusting.
Our newly acquired chauffeur took a pit stop at a Little Chef and, to our surprise, very kindly treated us to egg and chips.
During a quick visit to the ladies we discovered that our wind-swept silky hair had been whipped up into a knotted frenzy and was totally resistant to the coaxing bristles of a Denman hairbrush.
Nevertheless, we clambered back into the car and resumed our exhilarating journey to the South Coast, where we disembarked safely at the seafront and bid our fond farewells. Only now, in hindsight, do I ponder the possible danger, and thank heaven that we were delivered safely by our Mr Knight in his shining green MG.
We clambered across the pebbles down to the seafront and stripped off our sexy jeans to reveal our even sexier bikinis. We sat on the beach for a while hoping to develop a little colour onto our milk-white legs, and then headed for the water to cool down.
Now, at the age of 65, and having lived in Brighton for 22 years, I believe it was the only time I have ventured into the sea. I’m convinced the memory of that painful walk back across the pebbles to our towels has scarred me for life.
We must have looked like a very under-titillating burlesque act as we struggled to change clothes beneath the confines of our beach towels, without revealing a single inch of bare flesh.
Suddenly, our peaceful afternoon was shattered as, about 50 yards from us along the beach, a large missile was hurled down from the promenade. It was followed by another and another, accompanied by hollers and whoops. A thundering sound hailed an army of Mods and Rockers stampeding along the prom throwing deck chairs down on to unsuspecting holiday makers.
We moved far enough away towards the shore-line to ensure our safety but that moment was terrifying and we feared for our lives. It was all over in a flash as the hoards tore along at full speed, leaving behind a trail of destruction and terror, with battalions of police in their white helmets in hot pursuit.
Once the coast seemed clear we headed into the town centre and wandered around the lanes, which were busy but a rather more tranquil option. Being penniless schoolgirls we went through the motions of window-shopping in the Lanes and drooling over that which was out of reach.
Later, in the evening we managed to get into a nightclub (obviously impressed by our grown-up Marilyn style). All I remember was the hot, steamy ambience of people dancing wildly to Donnie Elbert’s, ‘She’s a Little Piece of Leather’ -
We had no idea where we were going to sleep and just left it all to luck. Luckily, our trump card came up when we bumped into some friends from Watford, also down for the weekend. They invited us to a party and we danced the night away, finally camping down on the floor in the early hours.
On Sunday morning our mates from Watford squeezed us in to their mini for a sleepy and uneventful return journey.
Once home, we turned on the evening news for reports on the riots, and to see if we could spot ourselves in the maelstrom of Mod and Rocker madness. We were shocked at the reported gravity of the destruction and our lucky escape.
But it will still remain one of the highlights of my life.
Although today £3 3s seems a derisory amount, in 1916 it was nearly 4 times the average weekly wage of 16s 9d, putting "Millionaire's Row" completely out of reach of the average wage earner. Today the average wage is £500 per week and I guesstimate a Hove Seaside Villa, if available, would attract a rent of about £1000 per week, now only twice average wage.
It is said that figs like to have their roots restricted but this is ridiculous. This tree is on the top of the cliff-retaining wall opposite Asda. It has presumably grown from a seed deposited in the droppings of a seagull or pigeon that had been scavenging waste bins nearby. It is clearly thriving, perhaps another sign of climate change. Figs in Sussex have put on about 18" of growth this year, about double the usual amount, and they aren't finished yet.
A busy shop, a busy bank, a busy street and a narrow pavement obstructed in short order by a telecom cabinet, two phone boxes (does anyone use phone boxes anymore?) and a very large waste bin, is a recipe for disaster. It is surely only a matter of time before someone proceeding left to right with their back to the bus lane steps aside into the road and into the path of a bus. It nearly happened to the writer.
This November, the LEGO® Wind Turbine moves to its new home at Park Square, Brighton Marina, in celebration of LEGO reaching its target of 100% renewable energy capacity a 3 years early.
