Saltdean Lido singles disco in Brighton - I had a blast

They came from the mouth of Saltdean resident Jan Merrywest, though the sentiment was wholeheartedly endorsed by her husband of 49 years, John. 

The pair met in 1976 when John was cleaning the floor of a supermarket Jan worked at. 

“All of a sudden, this pair of legs went by,” John recalls eagerly. “I looked up, and there was Jan.” 

John and Jan, with their son Peter in the centre (Image: Supplied) Despite their half-century of blissful matrimony – their “life sentence”, John quips – the couple lament the state of love and lust in the 21st century, amid the ubiquitous rise of dating apps. 

“People are spending too much time on their phones, they don’t want to get out and talk to people”, John says. “Especially the younger generations, they just don't want to talk to another human being. It's frustrating."

Inspired by the dance halls they spent their early dates at, Jan and John recently threw a disco for singles at Saltdean Lido, aiming to create a “natural environment” where people could meet and enjoy a casual boogie together.

"Funky tunes, flirty cocktails, sizzling vibes”, the poster promised. 

I couldn't resist. 

The lido was a perfect venue (Image: The Argus) Things got underway at 7pm in the upstairs ballroom at the famous lido. It's a lovely space for a knees up, with large balconies overlooking the water. 

As can often be the way, people were a little tentative at first. I gravitated towards the bar for a very reasonably priced can of sparkling wine, hoping to imbibe a spot of Dutch courage. 

Not yet ready though to enjoy and embarrass myself on the dancefloor, I percolated around the perimeter, seeking some no-strings-attached conversation.

Making friends... or something more? (Image: The Argus) Gladly, everyone was in a receptive mood and up for good a chinwag, and it was a pleasure meeting such a breadth of people.

Attendees had come from all corners of East Sussex. Two effervescent young ladies by the names of Hazel and Katrina had made the journey from Hastings, while estate agent Leo had popped over from Seaford. Janine was down from Crawley, and was mildly disconcerted to learn that I was the same age as her son.  

As the sun set and the alcohol performed its familiar magic, a flurry of disinhibited dancing broke out – very much led by the vibrant gyrations of Jan and John, who were the life and soul throughout.

The dancefloor filled up as the drinks flowed (Image: The Argus) The tunes were firmly in the category of ‘60s-to-90s singalong classics’ – very much my wheelhouse - and I held nothing back in belting out Brown Eyed Girl while swirling my can of wine around. 

Based on a lifetime of empirical data, I've been forced to accept that my dance moves are about as attractive as out of date shellfish. 

But that certainly was not true of everyone at the lido that night. 

A woman in a skin tight dress that clung to her jaw-dropping figure gave an enthusiastic (but rather drunk) man in an oversized suit jacket the dance of his life. People stared from the corners of their eyes as she spun, swayed and slut-dropped with consummate eroticism, while the fortunate man held on for all his worth. 

Like so many before her, she too had absolutely no interest in a dance with yours truly. 

Jan and John were the life and soul of the party (Image: The Argus) Eventually, 11pm came and the lights went up. Soaked in sweat and lined with wine, I thanked Jan and John for a wonderful night, and made my way to the bus stop. 

And my thanks were sincere. It was a fun and memorable evening, filled with interesting encounters and smiling faces. Infinitely better than any tinnitus-inducing nightclub, that’s for sure. 

The tunes were on point (Image: The Argus) It's almost sad in a way, how quaint it felt to be in a place where everyone was so happy to talk to strangers. There felt something almost old fashioned about it – reminiscent of a simpler time, perhaps.

In this world of swiping and sexting, it does feel like we’re losing the ability to interact face-to-face. Sure it can be scary to approach a stranger, but the rewards are bountiful if you can summon up the courage.

Sometimes, you’ve just got to take a deep breath and jump right in. 

Or, as Jan might say... actually grow a pair.

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Welcome to Pring It On! a column in which Argus reporter Charles Pring experiences the weirdest, wackiest, and most wonderful things happening in Brighton and across Sussex.

Have you got something in Brighton or Sussex you'd like to see Pring do?

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