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National Express is purgatory. Coach travel must be the most uncomfortable way of travelling, ever. I still have nightmares about the coach journey from the South of France to Sheffield that time. Coach travel in blistering heat, in a coach without air conditioning, is sheer hell.

But apart from that minor problem, am back and had a great time. The concert was great, saw Cardiff castle and we were happy to spot locations from Doctor Who throughout the bay area. Even the pushy, annoying people around us who turned the autograph thing at the end into a melee couldn’t ruin it.

At one point throughout the concert, Rufus Wainwright was all, “oh, you know… I haven’t really said much about this, but the Bush thing. Remember how for about two months, there were no suicide attacks or army fatalities in Iraq? And all the Oracles came out and in the media asking what if Bush was right, after all?”

The audience listened. Somewhere in the back of my head, I was thinking, Please don’t make me hate you, please don’t make me hate you…

“Well, the hypocrisy is terrible. Now that the trouble has started up again, are they saying what if Bush was wrong after all? It astounds me.”

The audience burst into applause. Well, except the man next to me. But that was okay, because Wainwright launched into another great song and I Felt Good.

Lots of other stuff happened, and there is more to write about, but that can wait for another time. sc1ssors1ster sums it up rather nicely. There is chocolate cake downstairs, and that’s not going to wait around for anyone.