So, this weekend, true to my always (well, almost) accurate predictions, my beloved Wales are off to London, or Twickenham more specifically, to hopefully hold on to their spot at the top of the Six Nations league. However, unfortunately, John Owen Jones is not. Now, I know what you’re thinking, “What sort of commited rugby fan are you Jones?” Or, “How nice is Porthmadog anyway, if you never want to leave?” Well, in answer to the latter question, you’ll simply have to come and experience it for yourself. But in regards to the former, I’m afraid that life simply gets in the way, and on this occasion, it’s nothing to do with being a simple country boy, nervous of the big smoke.
It is Katie’s Dad’s birthday this weekend, and he’s 60. Now, he wasn’t to know of this clash, and neither was I. Katie and her Dad have a really lovely relationship, and he really looks out for her. I know this because according to her Mother I’m the first boyfriend of hers he’s liked since school. Quite an honour. So whilst some of the lads head off down South, I’ll be sticking here for his party. Although I’ll be watching the match, of course, which hopefully will be a nice bonding exercise with some of Katie’s extended family. Wonder if they like F1 too?
I haven’t been to London in ten years, and I do want to visit soon. I haven’t even been on the Eye. Last weekend, I found myself watching Take Me Out, which isn’t something I make a habit of, frankly. There was a guy on there, who did pretty well with a nice lass, who described himself as a ‘country lad’ and went on to completely fudge the whole thing. If that’s who’s representing us on the television, no wonder we’re all secretly worried we’ll get laughed at in pubs elsewhere. Oh well, we’ll always have the fresh air.


