Just a quick visit, this, since there's already been a sense of the place from up a height on Beachy Head where that's another story.
Besides, SlyBob like to be all locked in with their jimjams on by 8 PM and, after a cocoa, it's lights out by nine having checked all the plugs, again.
That's a joke, of course, and an excuse for the lack of time lingering but enough to cement some international relations before a reminder of a golden age and no, it's not all about Eastbourne.
 Give it 10 years.
Some random, town-centre parking has caused some disorientation so it's not quite sure which way it is to the sea. You could try and follow the sun or even better a group of overseas young 'uns, most of them sporting attire that looks beach-worthy.
Good to see they're not spending the rest of the afternoon in Wetherspoon™s, tempting as it may be, but, get this, two of them here to serve the 100,000+ people in the surrounding area.
The Spoons have a tradition of naming their pubs based on the history of the town or the old building they invariably inhabit. One of the inevitable offerings in a town of this size is called the Cornfield Garage, a former car showroom.
There are no awards for their nearly-out-of-date ale and the Director of Contrived Waterhole Naming only gets a (1/5) and only for the fact they helped out the Royal Navy during World War you-know-when.
The other, by the way, is called the London and County after a bank that went on to become NatWest™ and who half of Eastbourne still have a paying in book for, probably (3/5).
That's because Eastbourne has a reputation for an ageing population so it's a surprise to find neither are called the .
 43, actually, and just three years above the national average, actually.
Turns out the youths are German so the opening Buongiorno! was a bit of a blunder even though they've nearly got a border.
That explains them picking up the pace as they're followed down Devonshire Place where there's a reminder of the heyday that began when, just like everywhere else in the UK, the Victorians came with the railway.
Eastbourne might have a reputation for an average age well into the '70s but guaranteed temperatures up and above that, Fahrenheit-wise, and cheap flights in the 1970s were the reasons these seaside towns were shunned during that decade.
An old friend, as he is now, the Duke of Devonshire's family had a hand in developing Eastbourne as a seaside resort and they weren't shy about advertising the fact.
There's more old-skool evidence down on Grand Parade with, get this, the busiest bandstand in the UK. Superlative work there by the people in PR since they can't claim the largest or the oldest and it's more of a concert venue, really,
This 1935, Neo-Grec domed roof provides cover for cover bands, mainly, although there's more your traditional brass on a Sunday, when in season.
What's now known to be called a colonnade can accommodate 1600 bums on temporary seats although that's less than half of the original number. That's all thanks to the pen-pushers at City Hall, probably, and it's Health & Safety gone mad, right kids?
The serviceable, shingle beach is now home to the entire German, year-11 student population or fifth year as it should still really be called.
That's not strictly true, there's still a big bunch of them up on Beachy Head on a field trip, probably, and while our teachers would call it a 'Geology Jolly', it's suspected the Teutonic tutors are taking this Erdgeschichteschulefeldausflug very seriously indeed.
The beach leads to the pier and of course it's had a fire one says tapping one's nose. More than one, actually, and the latest as recent as 2014, which just about destroyed the not quite so big bit near the middle.
That left it out of contention for Pier of the Year until 2016 when it fully reopened with a new owner, a shy, retiring type called Sheikh Abid Gulzar.
The local hotelier's plans to ban fishing and picnics, paint it all gold and then charge you at least a quid to walk along it had the traditionalists in a right tizzy.
The objections resulted in the restoration reverting to an awful lot of the original, blue gloss, which it's suspected he must have picked up a job lot of.
What other reason than a depot full of Dulux™ for him to then go on and purchase Hastings Pier? That news, too, turned the air blue and expect their pier to go the same colour sometime soon, possibly.
Enough of the old-skool remains to retain the charm but there's no sign of of his "Thank you for visiting Sheikh’s Pier" sign, seriously.
In case you hadn't figured, he's not a real Sheikh and is best described as an, erm, 'character' and what's wrong with just collecting football stickers or stamps?
Head away from the front to leave the, really rather marvellous, Carpet Gardens behind and if they're not already, they should be up for some annual, blooming prize or other.
There's another visual treat and much more imagination has gone into the buildings on Seaside Road than the naming of it.
Funded by the Duke of Devonshire, this mid-Victorian development delivers more of a feast than the snack bars and takeaways, this time for the eyes.
If you squint a bit, this could be London's West End, say, and Eastbourne's East End is home to the pick of their theatres, probably.
More Italianate in style, it's thought you'll agree, the Royal Hippodrome dates from 1883 and provided the Summer Season entertainment usually found at the end of a pier when it's not on fire.
 It can be a bit tricky this architecture lark. If it's old but you know it's not that old and it's covered in fiddly bits, it's 1850-1900 Victorian, probably.
Passing the Duke of Devonshire pub, this one isn't the other Wetherspoon™s but only because they beat them to it with the name, probably.
The contents of neither can be commented on because it's just the odd glass of stout when Bob's a bit backed up and a sherry at New Years, these days.
A random bit of Portland Stone, acting as an obelisk, is the main attraction in the pedestrianised shopping area that, sorry Eastbourne, could just about be anyway.
There's no real hint of the seaside here and, perhaps it's an age thing, but there's a hankering for the heyday of the holidaymaker and the Hippodrome's variety shows.
A little Krankie? Maybe just a bit. It's been a long day but Bob'll be fine after some chips and a nap.