Hello. Internet isn't quite as readily available in Swansea, which is one reason I haven't blogged, the other being a massive hangover, which is, of course, all my own fault. More on that later I guess. Let's imagine it's Sunday.

Didn't exactly leap out of bed this morning, as the only thing on my agenda was going to church. The nearest Catholic one was St. Winifride's, so John and I strolled along for 1000, only to find that the service was at 11. Bum. I'd suggested playing badminton in the afternoon, so we ambled to the sportscentre to try and book a court. However, gyms are apparently more profitable than fun things like badminton. They haven't had courts for two years.

So we went to Wimbledon village up a hill, which John seemed to think was quite steep. There were some posh shops at the top, and a little park where kids were riding ponies/horses round (they love horses best of all the animals, I expect). There was a pond with ducks in as well. We might have stayed a bit longer, but I have both a watch and a keen perception of the passage of time which exceeds John's, and I thought we ought to get moving.

This time we actually did go to St. Winifride's. It was okay - I always find going to an unknown church makes worshipping seem more difficult, but that's hardly their fault. James has said that he's not sure about the amount of solo singing that goes on at mass, but I think I'm all in favour. Here, they had a choir upstairs, and they sung the Psalm. I'm not sure whether it was the sound system or the actual balance between choir and organ, but it was by and large unintelligible. I very much like the idea of hearing a sung Psalm, but if you can't hear it, scrap it. The less voices, the easier it is to achieve clarity I think. Now seems like an ideal time to say that if, at any time, my shoddy playing inhibits the word of God being proclaimed, please tell me - I'll be as unhappy about it as you are. After that we filed straight out, as their didn't seem to be anywhere to congregate. A good while later, John told me there was a church hall. Doh.

After that we went along to a market and wandered round it. Didn't buy anything really, as I only had 50p on me, but John and I combined forces to purchase, for one pound of the realm, seven cinnamon donuts, with which to spoil our appetites. Or John's appetite anyway. Found a cheap bookstall, promising books for 50p, but none of them were any good, and, what with the amount of unread books on my shelves, I don't feel very happy about buying anything which doesn't directly pertain to the end of helping me to be a better person in some way.

I think it was then that we had dinner. In any case, when we did, we went to John's house by yet another route. I'm not sure if I mentioned this already, but John was very much into the idea of never approaching his house by a route which I would recognise, thus rendering me confused and disorientated. Never mind. In any case, we had dinner, which was very nice. Had some mustard made from powder, which coursed enthusiastically along the path of my sinuses. I was amazed at how quiet it was - I felt positively extroverted.

Went for another wander. These are some shops in which we bought nothing; PC World, Curry's, Comet, Carpetworld (I only went in to confirm that I didn't much like the smell of new carpets) and Sainsbury's Savacentre. This last had a travelator, which is a strange idea - feels a bit odd to stand still on a moving slope. Wandering round we found the kids section and were arrested by a lift the flap book in which you attempt to identify cartoon animals by looking at their cartoon arses. Surreal. I tried to eat the leftover cinnamon from my doughnuts while John looked round the sweets section for some "Tangfastic" Haribo, but only succeeded in covering my coat with it. I made as dignified an exit as was possible I think.

The sign said that there was a Hobby Crafts around. This I was keen to find, as the last time I was in one I found a print of the 'anecdote free angel' by Fiorentino Rosso. A little frustratingly, not even the shop itself was to be found.

We went to a petting zoo next. There were huge chickens, normal sized chickens, ducks, ducks which walked funny, ducks with daft hair, goats, budgies, pigs, chicks, sheep, cows and ostriches. Oh, and a peacock. They were all rather good in their various ways. There were also more kids riding ponies/horses.

Mostly TV in the evening. We saw a smidgen of Crufts, enough to be persuaded that dog-lovers are funny/sinister. Also a programme about volcanic eruptions, some of Fit Club and SAS: Are you tough enough? It killed the time. Actually, there was a documentary about Michaelangelo, which was quite good, despite having a cheesy actor to stand for Michaelangelo.