I aim to blog what happens at the weekend on Monday usually, so in catching up, here's Sunday. There's not much to it really.

Firstly, mass. It's going to be a little weird to switch places of worship for the summer, but as I was in a little bit of a hurry, it was somewhat like a one-off anyway. Oddly, Dwight Longenecker, of whom I have heard via the internet turned up to talk. He talked about an organization he's involved with which supports church leaders coming into the Catholic church. I was gearing up to be pleasantly surprised by this, but he replaced the homily, which rather countered this. I'd like to think that the author of Adventures in Orthodoxy might politely decline to arse about with the liturgy. Still, such things seemt to be endemic rather than calculated, and I gather that he does good work.

Ran into some RCIA people and the SVP lady, who mentioned setting up something wih students at the chaplaincy next time.

Went home, said tata to Rob, and then wandered up to the chaplaincy to say tata to Fr. Paul for a bit, though I gather I'll run into him. I expect I'll pop round to borrow Laudate &c., but best let him alone till he's got tired of it being quiet I guess. He was noodling on his guitar, the congregation not being particularly present, so I left him to celebrate, and wandered over to the coach station.

There was a ridiculously drunk chap at the coach station. He was speaking an unintelligible version of Scottish, but seemed cheery enough. He asked me if I liked coke, which I'm not sure that anybody else has ever done. He then got less cheery, accused someone of staring at him, and was encouraged to leave by a fluorescent-jacketed person. Other than the fact that I went to Haverfordwest on a coach, nothing much happened after that. It took about eight hours too.

Haverfordwest doesn't have a coach station. It has a bus stop. Fortunately, Emma and Neil still managed to find me.