So that was that

I've just finished watching Piers Morgan on Dubai on ITV1 - how does he get these jobs?! Smug ****.

Anyhow, enough bitterness and jealously and instead a few final reflections on the Norn Iron trip before I move on to something else tomorrow - such as Guinness (I've been on the wagon since coming back).

As I write this, almost 200 passengers and crew remain stranded on an Irish Sea ferry more than 24 hours after they boarded it.

Thankfully the Whites - who travelled to Belfast from Liverpool rather than from Stranraer - had no such dramas. Indeed, we had a great time, as the above photographic evidence confirms. We went on the overnight sailing both ways and, for £250 return including our car, we had excellent three-course dinners, decent breakfasts and a more than acceptable cabin thrown in. Only the wine was chargeable and, at £4 a carafe, it was cheap (and strong) at the price.

Two more quick ones. On Monday I described my mum's faux pas - offering to babysit Jamie whilst the rest of us were at his own christening several miles away - as the line of the weekend.

Well, there was a runner-up and this time it was intentional.

My sister Gwen - Sebastian and Katie's mum - babysat Jamie on Saturday evening whilst Vanessa and I went out for some food with my own mother and her partner Derek. Gwen only lives a two minute walk away from my dad's where we were staying and the plan was to pick Jamie up - literally - on our return, carry him across the road and put him into his travel cot. Easy enough.

We were discussing this with her before we set off and Gwen asked if we intended to give him a bottle when we got back. However, we've done well recently in getting him out his habit of taking an 11 o'clock bottle so I said that we didn't plan to. But Gwen, a mother of some renown, looked horrified - which worried me.

"Do you think we should?" I enquired in an alarmed tone. Gwen's face had "YES!" written all over it. "Really? Why?" I said, feeling like I was about to learn something.

"Let me put it this way," said my sister calmly. "If someone lifted me from my sleep in the middle of the night, carried me down the road and the tried to put me into a strange bed without as much as a cup of tea...well...I'd be pretty p***ed off." So, yes, Jamie did get his (small) bottle.

And finally, I wrote on Tuesday about going to visit Anne Crory. My mum's crazy cousin Jinard - I've never quite worked out what she is to me other than mad - lives in the same block of apartments as Anne and on the way out we went to see if Jinard was also in. When we got to her front door, we were greeted by the sight below. I like it when these things are explained properly.

But all good trips must come to an end and, on Monday, it did - having clearly taken its toll on some of our number.

Goodnight.