The last night in Cardiff was fine. We went to a restaurant called Giovanni (or Gepetto or some other ultra-typical Italian name), ate some very tasty dishes, stopped in a pub for drinks and then headed to UGC for the British premiere of Matrix Reloaded.

The plan was perfect: after the night out, we’d finish packing on Friday evening and catch a bus the next morning to the coach station, from whence we’d be whisked off to Cheltenham, where Mike and Katy would pick us up.

And like all best laid plans this one bombed too. First problem: We needed cash to pay the final bills but all our liquidities were in the form of a deposit cheque that we were supposed to get on Friday evening. Note the tense, ”were supposed”.

What happened instead was that our agent showed up on Saturday morning at ten (remember that the coach was leaving at 11.30) with a cheque. Which you cannot cash in on Saturdays. Which meant I had no money with which to pay for the loads of DVDs, books and CDs I had to send to Finland by post. Which meant we were neck deep up shit creek.

Then we were supposed to catch the coach. A great idea it was indeed, but it was made rather hard to accomplish because there were no seats left. A quick reappraisal was made and here we are, sitting on the train from Cardiff to Bristol, trying to catch the coach from there. Let’s see what happens.