![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUHsny0Xb0JNee27xnJi_0gRH67CJFTxLIJIBU320pFYtgTodRYF32ee1xrVAp4tFinEoPPD8QOOqG_1VffBjHVOzzSrWG4B74uWhdyFh5txJO3J2lYFjbxsbRiic5DmRi9HYfbh3CbDE/s400/Hampton.jpg)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ-0GtBgn1Vhj429EFJyB6obgTm1epjPoG-k5N5bM_grR2iCwr5rEn_MQZpJRWlWvsbXx6MQN4a-9JRwwIRzTaGSv-BA7j55BHTPNmzgl9WVcIOTCzenzyXEeGrTVgn-79P7fddX3aFkM/s400/BrightonB02.jpg)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin_LpjYYs6jl1GtjZ5NR3JE8QpnDFslRsEAc6LO49KgW2ANz2kVZChp0eiLpCdGY0_9epa-01M8Nh4crYdkfUwbJHVKH-5TJxCa2LwMq0EJ_Kn8schfszrb8e9mdFLKYfSZdCwlqDlviY/s400/BrightonB01.jpg)
As befits a posh suburb like Hampton, the train station was both clean and tagging free, and hardly patronized.
Brighton Beach had more people, as well as a working toilet. I've always liked BB station; as an adolescent I spent many winter days wandering on the beach, disconsolately.
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