A Stag Do in Brighton

Today Jof had to work so we planned something interesting to do while she was out of our hair, natch.
This time we visited Obscure Cousin Margaret. But unfortunately, he didn't wake up till 930 so I wasn't awake until 10 something and I didn't eat my breakfast and you know the way it is on Saturdays.
Eventually we were zipping along the road by Fontwell racecourse and we could see snow! I mean, it wasn't much, only driblets in the hedgerows, you couldn't have made a Snowman, maybe a SnowMeerkat if you made a team effort. But it was snow.
Then we saw why the Police car had overtaken us with such keenness, a traffic accident involving a car and a very big, very dead stag. This magnificent yet not road-trained creature would have netted us a few quid and a decent wall ornament if we'd thought to stop and retrieve it, but opportunities come, and go.
We got to Margaret's and she had a tapestry easel to give us, as you do, and a box of assortimenta for the jumble sale. We headed into Brighton and it looks all very nice with its substantial detached residences and far too many pointless hills and one-way systems and we had to park in a puddle under an office block in the wrong end of town.
Never mind, we sploshed, as we nearly caught malaria from the puddles, we found a lovely Italian restaurant near the Brighton Dome called Pinocchios which served us quickly and efficiently and I pigged on Pizza even though Jof had said find something more interesting than Pizza this time.
Then, bellies full, we hit the Brighton Pavilion which is a decaying monument to the financial and culinary excesses of the Regency period, and quite fun with it. They are yet another attraction with a no-photography policy so we sneaked one in the lounge but mostly admired the Chinoiserie and bamboo-styled staircases and gilt everything and millions of copper saucepans and lots of doors we weren't allowed in.
Jof had told us to be on the lookout for "The Lanes", an old-town network of narrow streets like the maze of any old Arab town, usually called a Soukh or Medina. We found the first one but it was mostly full of very little jewellers shops but we did find one Militaria shop and I admired the U-boat deck gun round (£1400) and a lot of swords and helmets, but he didn't buy anything because nowadays we know what the values should be.
I tried a couple of touristy shops but my heart just wasn't in it and the cold north wind was right in our faces as we walked bleedin' miles back to the car, still in its toxic miasma dump.
Brighton does not seem to have nice easy-to-read 'Out of city' signs so we toured Hove and Upper Portslade for a bit until we found the motorway home.
For normal evening-time we ate pizza (again) and watched Harry Potter 7 1/2 while unreasonably bullying Jof. I'm sure I got to bed this side of midnight.