Today, in the fair city of Cardiff, it is 'In the town centre without your car' day.
It took me ten minutes to turn out of my own road this morning! This has to be, on balance, one of the worst environmentally friendly campaigns I have ever witnessed. If it was the same story in the town centre itself (and it must have been, for the traffic queues to have been backed up all the way into the suburbs!), then the council may as well have filled the ornamental fountains with petrol and set fire to them. Possibly...
Anyway, I wasn't in the best of moods upon my arrival in the office, and this has not been enhanced by having the radio tuned in to the Ryder Cup Golf. I like golf a lot, but it just doesn't work on the radio. That's my opinion of all sport on the radio. For it to be exciting, you need to have the pictures as well, surely!
"That was an amazing goal!"
"Well, it may have been, but I can't sodding see it can I!"
My first fumbling attempts at the game of golf occurred on a small par 3 course at Center Parcs. I began in the practice nets, and immediately developed an unrivalled talent for slicing the ball sharply off to the left. Thus it was that I spent three hours in drizzling rain, trying to hack a succession of golf balls out of many an inpenetrable forest. If there was so much as a small puddle on the course, I found it. Peculiarly, it's afternoons such as this that can only enhance your enjoyment of the game. One good shot, and you're hooked. Or in my case, sliced.
