I’ve lived in Surrey for most of my adult life, but my heart? It’s always belonged to Sussex.
I was born in Brighton, and my parents ran a pub in Chiddingly – a village once famously frequented by Picasso. Back then, Sussex was inhabited by locals, artists and the occasional celebrity. Now? It’s heaving with DFLs (Down From London) chasing clean air and a bigger garden.
I get it. I’ve done it myself.
But here’s the truth no glossy supplement will tell you: once you’ve lived in or near London with its culture, well-read neighbours, and sourdough on every corner, ending up in a soulless Sussex commuter town can feel less ‘fresh start’ and more ‘what have I done?’
Every year, it’s the same spots on the ‘Best Places to Live’ lists: Brighton, Haywards Heath, Worthing, Crowborough.
And every year, I wonder if they’re recycling copy written in 1998.
Yes, the air is cleaner. Yes, the houses are (sometimes) cheaper. But high streets? Culture? Soul?
If some of these towns were a person, they’d be an accountant called Kevin. Pleasant. Competent. Beige.
I moved to Eastbourne last summer and, having grown up here and explored every inch of Sussex, here’s my brutally honest guide to the desirable, the charming and the deeply disappointing spots. Because beaches and countryside don’t always turn a place into somewhere you’d actually want to live.
Sally Brockway (pictured) told the Daily Mail: ‘Years ago, Sussex was inhabited by locals, artists and the occasional celebrity. Now? It’s heaving with DFLs (Down From London ) chasing clean air and a bigger garden’
While Brighton is only an hour from London, Sally noted: ‘There’s always an excuse for why the trains are delayed/cancelled. Leaf on the line. Signalling failure. Driver having a day off’ (Pictured: a stock image of Brighton)
London-on-Sea… with overflowing bins
Brighton
Brighton is where liberal Londoners go when they’ve had enough of the capital but can’t quite let go of oat milk and identity politics.
And parts of it are still fabulous – the Regency architecture that’s been the backdrop for dozens of period dramas, the Lanes with its quirky independent shops, and more bakeries per person than a place really needs. What’s not to love? But look closer – it’s filthy.
Takeaway cartons line the pavements, beer bottles decorate the beach, and burst bin bags spill out onto streets like a permanent installation called ‘Urban Decay’. Foxes and seagulls are thriving. Humans? Less so.
And the nightlife? If you enjoy vibrating molars from club bass and dodging stag dos mid-vomit, you’ll thrive.
It’s not car-friendly either – traffic is often gridlocked, parking is a blood sport, and using RingGo feels like a mugging.
Yes, it’s an hour to London, in theory. But in practice? There’s always an excuse for why the trains are delayed/cancelled. Leaf on the line. Signalling failure. Driver having a day off.
The sea air won’t feel so good when the daily commute destroys you.
And it’s always windy. It’s so bad, you might find yourself wearing a Dryrobe 24/7, but don’t worry, it’s not as naff as wearing one in Kensington Gardens.
I hate to slate my birthplace, but the Brighton I loved no longer exists.
Brighton’s tired cousin
Worthing
Sally said: ‘Worthing has all of Brighton’s problems, such as grime, parking misery, fraying edges, but with fewer redeeming features’ (stock image of Worthing)
Worthing has all of Brighton’s problems, such as grime, parking misery, fraying edges, but with fewer redeeming features.
The town centre is shabby and not in a chic way, and some of the outer areas are downright bleak.
There’s not much in the way of nightlife unless you’re into real ale or karaoke. If you want edgy, stay home and watch Britain’s Got Talent.
Yes, there are some perks. Perch on the Pier is genuinely lovely, and Tern upstairs is excellent with views to die for. Plus, Worthing seafront has its moments – when the sun’s out, it looks and feels so much better.
But crime and anti-social behaviour are real issues. In Brighton, it’s drunk stags you’ll encounter, whereas in Worthing, it’s gangs of roaming teenagers looking for trouble.
On the upside, there are so many lovely green spaces such as Beach House Park, Highdown Gardens, and Worthing has three railway stations, which is fortunate, because you’ll want to get the hell out of there, fast.
Charming… and in bed by 9pm
Lewes
Wander around Lewes (pictured, stock image), and you’ll find magical hidden alleys, delightful cafes and houses that wouldn’t look out of place in a Richard Curtis film. However, Sally warned that the property prices are high here
I did my A-levels in Lewes and would happily live there – all it lacks for me is the sea. Trains to London are good, and it oozes charm.
In parts, it’s like stepping back in time – it has a fifteenth-century bookshop that’s all low ceilings and creaky floors, a medieval castle that sits atop the town and Anne of Cleves’s medieval house, which was a gift from Henry VIII.
Wander around Lewes, and you’ll find magical hidden alleys, delightful cafes and houses that wouldn’t look out of place in a Richard Curtis film, but be warned – property here is expensive.
It’s a popular spot for Londoners who want to escape the hustle and bustle, and it still retains the alternative side that existed when I studied here. Expect to meet people who wear clothes made from hemp, possibly own a didgeridoo and smell faintly of patchouli all the time.
With its proximity to Glyndebourne and Charleston, home of the Bloomsbury Group, Lewes is also a bit of a cultural hot-spot. You’ll never be short of a music festival, exhibition, or arthouse movie – the Depot Cinema next to the railway station is a great place to hang out, dine, drink cocktails at the weekend and wile away a summer’s afternoon in the pretty gardens.
That being said, the town is shockingly quiet in the evenings. Come 5pm, everyone shuts up shop, and a decent coffee will be a whole day away.
You’ll need strong legs too, because it’s hilly. Forget gym memberships, the high street’s steep incline will tone your quads better than Lewes Leisure Centre ever could. And if you like swimming, the Pells Pool is spring-fed – icy, but great if that’s what you’re into.
And while the odd charity shop has sprung up, Lewes High Street is still brimful with lovely, independent shops, always friendly and stocked with items you won’t find elsewhere – my go-to destination for quirky gifts.
Two pubs and a head torch
Mayfield
Be prepared to swap your heels for Hunters and part ways with Deliveroo because Mayfield is hardcore countryside territory, Sally (pictured) said
Mayfield has two pubs. That’s it…
But in all seriousness, be prepared for a radical lifestyle change if you move to this 10th-century village because it’s quiet with a capital Q.
In some ways, it looks and feels like Lewes, but with 99 per cent less to do. Think narrow streets, historic buildings, chocolate-box cottages, and acres of muddy footpaths.
You’d better like walking because that’s the only activity on offer. Keep off the verges – Land Rovers and boy racers speed along the surrounding roads, and you might end up in a ditch.
The bad news is, there’s no railway station, you’ll have to drive to nearby Tunbridge Wells, which is nine miles away.
Don’t expect to hop on a bus – there are several, but they mostly run two or three days a week. There are cycle paths mostly outside the village, and whatever you do, don’t stray from them. Because while the drivers are bad, the potholes are worse and could swallow you whole.
There’s a cafe on the high street, and the Grade I listed Middle House pub is a cosy hotel offering fantastic pub grub, but if you want variety, you’ll need to venture further afield because that is pretty much it.
Nightlife? It’s star gazing or an early night, I’m afraid.
Be prepared to swap your heels for Hunters and part ways with Deliveroo because Mayfield is hardcore countryside territory.
Efficient and uninspiring
Haywards Heath
Sally claimed that the only thing Haywards Heath (pictured, stock image) has ‘going for it is that you can hop on a Thameslink or Southern Rail train into London, with services leaving every five to 15 minutes’
The only thing that this town has going for it is that you can hop on a Thameslink or Southern Rail train into London, with services leaving every five to 15 minutes. Oh, and there is a nice café in the Waitrose next to the station.
It’s not what you might call a pretty town. You’re paying for proximity to London and not personality. If Haywards Heath were a person, it would be Keir Starmer.
The high street is shockingly bland – Haywards Heath is not a shopping destination. Or an eating out one.
Take The Broadway, it has bars and cafes on offer, but with names like Fine Baps, Pink Flamingo, and Lounge Francisco, it’s not exactly cosmopolitan, but if that’s what you wanted, you’d stay in London, right?
It’s one of those towns where all of a sudden, the roads look the same and it feels like you’ve stepped into some kind of Bermuda Triangle and you start to wonder if you’ll ever see that lovely cafe in Waitrose again.
The place lacks the sense of community you find in a place like Lewes, and it doesn’t rank highly for fun or culture. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anyone smile in Haywards Heath.
Also, property prices are high.
If you want quaint, Lindfield is only a mile away, and it has one of the best duck ponds ever in the middle of the village. But if nightlife and culture is your scene, don’t move here.
Affordable, and that’s about it
Burgess Hill
Sally described Burgess Hill (pictured, stock image), as ‘somewhere you pass through’ rather than ‘linger’. She added: ‘I spent a lot of time here as a child, as my grandparents lived in Burgess Hill. I loathed it then, and it hasn’t improved with age’
Burgess Hill is somewhere you pass through, not linger unless you have to. Like Haywards Heath, it has good rail links to London – there are two stations, Burgess Hill and Wivelsfield, with frequent services to Victoria, London Bridge and St Pancras.
The surrounding countryside is lovely, and the Bedelands nature reserve is picturesque, but the town? It feels like it had its heyday 50 years ago and has given up. Frankly, it’s boring if you’re being kind, and depressing if you’re not.
The jewel of The Martlets Shopping Centre is Greggs, and nearly everyone in there is pulling a wheelie shopper.
What you do get is value for money as properties are cheaper here than in nearby Haywards Heath. There’s a big push to regenerate the town, and building is happening at quite a pace – but sadly, they’re putting up boring brick boxes, crammed together on soulless estates.
Quirky charm is sadly lacking, although there is still some Victorian housing stock and the odd pretty street, but they’re few and far between.
I spent a lot of time here as a child, as my grandparents lived in Burgess Hill. I loathed it then, and it hasn’t improved with age.
Lovely countryside, lacklustre town
Crowborough
Crowborough’s claim to fame is appearing in the news because the Government has decided to house asylum seekers in a former military training camp, which has apparently caused a slump in property prices.
It has a lacklustre high street, if you can even call it that, and the station is a long walk away – plus there’s only one train an hour.
So, what do you get aside from rubbish trains, irate locals and a boring high street? Cheaper property prices, but then again, that’s what you’d expect from an area that has little to offer.
It’s great for walking, though, as it’s located in the High Weald Area of Outstanding Beauty – it’s just a shame all that loveliness doesn’t stretch to the town itself. However, if you look carefully, there are some pretty properties – alongside some equally awful ones.
Almost picture perfect… and watching you
Wadhurst
Sally said: ‘When someone tells you they live in affluent Wadhurst (pictured, stock image), you know they’ve made it. When estate agents say ‘it’s highly desirable’, they actually mean it’
When someone tells you they live in affluent Wadhurst, you know they’ve made it. When estate agents say ‘it’s highly desirable’, they actually mean it. Expect to see the entire Boden spring catalogue on display as you walk down the high street.
This market town in the High Weald Area of Outstanding Beauty has seemingly got it all – great schools, a high street that boasts independent shops and a railway station that takes you into London in just under an hour. Plus, there’s a castle, and you can trek with llamas. What more could you want?
The place is great for a day out, and that’s the problem – it’s getting busier, and you’re likely to get stuck in traffic during school pick up and drop off, plus rush hour. You thought road rage was a London thing? Wrong. It’s come to Wadhurst.
Expect to get stuck behind the odd tractor and endless four-wheel drives every time you nip out with the car, which you’ll have to do because buses are a rarity and the village is quite spread out. The train station, for example, is a mile from the centre.
While it has some charm and plenty of chocolate box cottages, it’s not the most picturesque of villages, and living there is a big shift from city life. There are some pubs and a couple of supermarkets, but it’s not exactly buzzy.
With fewer than 5,000 residents in Wadhurst, it won’t be long before everyone knows your business. Get drunk in any of the half a dozen popular pubs, and news will spread across the village faster than you can say ‘mine’s a double’.
God’s waiting room? Don’t believe it
Eastbourne
Brighton is where liberal Londoners go when they’ve had enough of the capital but can’t quite let go of oat milk and identity politics, writes Sally (pictured)
They call it ‘God’s waiting room’, and my London friends were horrified when I announced I was moving to Eastbourne.
They said there’d be nothing to do, and I wouldn’t find my tribe. The truth is, there’s loads to do and 95 per cent of my new friends are DFLs – it feels like Surrey-on-Sea.
What I love about Eastbourne is that parts of it are so clean, it looks as if Mrs Hinch has swept through with a pot of bicarb and a feather duster.
Meads Village, situated at the foot of the Downs, feels like a slice of Twickenham or Teddington and teems with well-heeled pensioners, while the Sovereign Harbour on the other side of town offers the most affordable homes with sea views I’ve ever encountered.
The bit in the middle could do with a bit of TLC, and as with most seaside towns, there is a homelessness problem, which seems to have improved since local MP Josh Babarinde pledged to tackle it.
Even in the winter, there’s something romantic about Eastbourne’s stunning seafront, leading to the rolling South Downs.
And when it’s raining, there are three main theatres and the Towner Art Gallery, where you can see a Turner exhibition for less than a tenner. In fact, everything is cheaper here – haircuts (ex Vidal Sassoon superstar), tradesmen, theatre tickets, etc. DFLs feel like they’ve won the lottery.
It’s not all bridge and bowling either – there’s a growing alternative scene with ecstatic dance classes, drumming workshops and sound baths to be found, plus every form of dance you can imagine. The place is full of pensioners who love to foxtrot!
Eastbourne is as remote as I’m prepared to go. It has all the high street shops, the beach, and the South Downs, plus you can get to London in an hour and a half – if the trains are running. I work from home as a PR and writer, so that’s not a problem for me.
Gentrification is happening, albeit slowly. Port Hotel is like something you might see in Soho. The Glasshouse restaurant on the seafront also has a London vibe, and the Devonshire Park area, aka the town’s cultural centre, has had a £54million facelift, and it shows.
If you ignore the fact that it has two Wetherspoons, no cycle paths along the seafront and roads pitted with potholes, it’s a great place to live. I don’t know why I didn’t move here sooner – but don’t tell everyone or it’ll end up like Brighton.
