I send to Mordor seaside rain. I suppose I couldn't guarantee sunshine in Whitby in October, but the minute we got there today it started pouring down, and a gale was whipping in off the North sea so that my hair went right up in the air like a three foot mohican.
And there's only so much time you can spend in the pub/fish and chip restaurant/shops. Then when it cleared up it was so wet everywhere under foot I have salty tide marks on my boots and black feet from where all the water got in. It was also goth weekend, so there were hundreds of wet victorian undertakers about too; I always knew all those PVC coats and elevator boots had a more practical purpose.
It was encouragingly English though. Nobody let the tempest stop them from eating ice cream and little trays of seafood, they just did it huddled in doorways.