… for the first time in bloody ages. I don’t think I was over there the last couple of times I’ve been back to Barry; no real reason to, now that none of my family live there.

I might not have bothered this time either, but a friend back in Northern Ireland is a Gavin and Stacey fan (and so am I for that matter) so I wanted to take some photos. Of course it was cold and grey, with snow on the English hills over the channel, so the Island wasn’t at its prettiest. But then I’m not sure it has a prettiest anyway.

And I’m allowed to criticise! I’m a third-generation Barry Islander after all… :)

Also today, I am mostly … recovered from reacting badly to mussels

… which although tasted pretty good when I ate them for lunch yesterday, made me queasy during the England v Italy game (although the game itself was dreadful enough to make me feel ill) and then throw up horribly at half-time in Ireland v France.

I was recovered enough by 7;30 though to wolf down some of the Indian takeaway that I’d been promising my parents. I’m just annoyed because I like mussels, and I don’t want to have to stop eating shellfish for fear of a bad reaction to them.

I could blame my dad, I suppose - he cooked them. But I won’t. (Though my mum probably does.)

A proper Sunday dinner today though courtesy of my mum, the kind I rarely bother to cook, with roast lamb… And she’s made me Welsh cakes to take home.