When you've eaten as much as I have, it's good to have someone to hold in your muffin-top...


Lisa only has to remove her hand, and I look like I've had a major hernia. I knew I'd regret that third scoop of ice cream.

But that was us yesterday morning on Eastbourne pier. And as it happens, we weren't the only ones taking photos. Two minutes earlier we'd passed a woman posing with her walking frame as her husband looked for somewhere to stand his stick so that he could snap a picture of her. As Lisa said "That'll be us one day". Probably next year, the way my arthritis is going.

But while I still have movement in my fingers, we decided to take up a sporting activity, so we headed straight into the pier arcade for a game of air hockey. The £1 I inserted into the machine entitled us to five minutes of play, three of which were spent searching for a member of staff to tell us why the puck hadn't appeared, after which he spent a further minute and a half banging the table with his fist, before undoing the side with a screwdriver and retrieving it manually. But those thirty seconds of play were thoroughly enjoyable. I won 3-0.

Feeling slightly pucked off with the situation, we then moved on to golf, which seemed a more fairway of spending our money. And sure enough, it proved far more successful. Once we'd worked out what we were meant to do. Which we did after we'd spent two quid doing it wrong. Here's Lisa aiming for the top doughnut with her last shot of the match...


I'd say she was the oldest swinger in town, but this is Eastbourne we're talking about. I don't know if the golf club is tethered to stop the chavs stealing it, or the pensioners using it as a walking stick.

Anyhoo, I'd write more, but sadly our three-night hotel stay with free wi-fi is drawing to a close, and we're about to be chucked out of our room. So the full account of the ninety minutes I spent yesterday afternoon being stroked by a young lady in my pants will have to wait for another day...