It's not every day you see Lisa on my blog. But I'd promised her ice cream and a trip to a suicide hotspot, so frankly she was putty in my hands.

Anyhoo, our day out in Eastbourne yesterday went very well. We were only 50 minutes late picking up Lisa's mother, meaning we made it to the 'bourne in time for lunch. Lisa selected The Hog's Head for our meal, where I had the pleasure of paying £7.20 for one glass of wine and a Bacardi. It was only the drink-driving laws which stopped me ending the day in poverty (well, even more in poverty). But we had an enjoyable lunch, over which Lisa's Mum informed us that she's passed on some of Lisa's clothes to her sister, because now she's seven months pregnant they fit her like a glove. That went down well.

From there we embarked on a tour of Eastbourne's fine shops, a tour which ended abruptly when Lisa entered Next. How anyone can spend 50 minutes in one shop, I have no idea. But it gave me a chance to wander down the road to the Cancer Research Shop, where (ironically) I bought a Next top for £4. Lisa also bought a Next top, but her bill came to slightly more.

A quick visit to the nearest jewellers to pick out something nice for Lisa (a watch battery), and it was off to Sainsburys for some Rolo cookies and five TV mags (one each for me, Lisa, her Mum, her sister, and her brother-in-law). The girl at the checkout asked if we really meant to buy five, to which Lisa's Mum replied "Yes, I'm a papergirl on Tuesdays". The way the girl looked at us completely seriously makes me wonder if there's anything she wouldn't believe. I should've told her the Rolo cookies were half price.

From there we headed to the seafront for a stroll along the promenade while Lisa's mother read the Daily Star. She claimed she'd bought it by mistake, but frankly I have my doubts. Having explored Eastbourne pier, and walked back and forth along the front without finding a single ice cream seller who hadn't closed for the winter, we were forced to leave Eastbourne behind us and head home. Fortunately however, I saw a sign to Beachy Head, so we made a quick diversion, and arrived at Britain's leading suicide launchpad to find...

... two ice cream vans. As Lisa said, if you were feeling a bit depressed, that would cheer you up. So it was Mr Whippys all round, whereupon I decided to leave Lisa and her Mum in the car and trudge off towards the cliff top with a solemn expression on my face, to see how far I could get before they'd come running after me in panic. 'Quite a long way' is the answer. Frankly I could have been in the mortuary before they'd have noticed. So having admired the view from the top of the hill for five minutes, I finished my 99 and returned to the car where I found Lisa's Mum reading aloud from the Daily Star problem page. Apparently they hadn't even noticed I'd gone. I kinda regret buying them ice creams now.