Preparing, once again, to gird my loins and whisk myself and the family over to the Sunny southwest for my, most excellent chum M's wedding.

Rather than risk hiring a car we've decided to go the public transport route - it will do the kids good to go on a train with people clinging to the roof, baskets of chickens, pigs roaming around, overflowing toilets and hard wooden seats. The train usually calms down after Reading, however.

and yeah, it's been a while. So if you're reading this, and I think I know who you are, well done. It will be the usual stream of wittterings written in poo on the walls of a padded cell.