Brighton rock(s)

So, Brighton. Despite all the problems, a good weekend. First impressions? The filth and the fury on exiting the station -- kebab shops, crisp packets, loud bars. Very, very windy: I've never had my back ache just from leaning into the wind during a short walk. Cash points everywhere. Large gaggles of drunk teenage boys and drunker, shrieking teenage girls being "sexy" in front of taxis -- and then unleashing torrents of abuse as they got beeped. Policemen escorting said drunk boys home to their parents with grim resignation. Spray from enormous waves coming up through the boards of the pier. Hotel bars that shut at 4 am. Loud, camp, young men "performing" at 2 am when asked politely to shut the f*** up. "Oooh! Get him! Why don't you come over here and suck this, big boy! What do you mean I need to be quiet -- you're the one making all the noise!" Lots of dogs. Custard-colored Regency terraces. Drunks in the gardens outside custard-colored Regency terraces. Fish and chips everywhere. The 3 Jolly Butchers -- the perfect pub for a Saturday lunchtime. Vegetarian shoe shops. And the sea -- which makes even the noise vaguely bearable.