Well, I’m half way through the festive season and it hasn’t gone quite to plan. I went back to Cardiff, Wales on Christmas Eve to stay with my Mum and see the family, and headed down to the Deri pub in Rhiwbina for my traditional pre-Christmas quaff. It was strange to be back in the place that used to be so familiar to me and hardly know anyone. The handful of old chums still drinking there had all developed sizable beer guts, which meant that they all had to stand further apart from each other. Suitably sozzled, I crashed into bed ready for the usual family Christmas.
Sadly, things didn’t go to plan. I woke up to find my Mum had been taken very ill indeed and the doctor had to be called out. It looked far worse at the time, but it turned out she’d had an inner ear infection which made her lose her balance, suffer a thumping headache and feel nauseous. So she was consigned to bed all day, and a hastily reassembled downsized Christmas dinner was reconvened at my brother’s house instead.
Happily, on Boxing Day my mother was a lot better and I headed off to see the mighty Cardiff City with my nephew.
And boy was I in for a miserable time. The sky was grey and Cardiff were shite. We went 0-1 down and then got pissed on as the skies opened. No fun…
An evening of ‘drinking-to-forget’ was called for, so we headed off to the Butcher’s Arms in Rhiwbina for some no-nonsense quaffing.
Next morning, I managed to get a stroll around Cardiff centre before heading back to London on a packed train.