To no-one's great surprise (least of all Vanessa's), I did travel down to Wales yesterday after Sproglet showed some signs of improvement.
Last night was a mixture of restraint and bizarreness (which apparently is a word).
Above was Dan, Wee John and Other John having a fine meal at Wee John's local Italian (I was there too but someone had to take the photo).
Earlier, we gazed in awe at Wee John's telly which is actually much bigger than he is.
And earlier still we met Big Dave in The Walkabout Bar.
Big Dave's getting married in two weeks. Good luck with that future Mrs Big Dave.
The highlight of today was supposed to be Wales v Australia in the Millennium Stadium (at rugby, for the uninitiated). But Dan has just been sick, meaning this afternoon's game will now have to be a cracker.
I predicted Wales 20 Australia 37 in the sweep stake in Wee John's local last night, and I am confident that a big turkey will be accompanying me on the train home to Pudsey tomorrow afternoon as a consequence.
I'm now off to learn the words of the Welsh national anthem. Other John says he's worried he might cry when the locals sing it later, and I want to play my full part in trying to ensure he does.