Gavin and Stacey

Gavin and Stacey. I won't lie to you, it's one of my favourite TV programmes at the moment. Right up there with The Thick of It, Life and, yes, I'll admit it, the supremely trashy Gossip Girl. Another confession. I've been to Barry Island - I didn't mean to, promise, but suddenly we seemed to be taking a diversion on the way to Cardiff. And then there it was, Barry Island. With the amusement arcade, the Ship Inn, and, although we didn't see it, the street where Bryn and Gwen live. But as we missed out on some of the sights, a return trip's needed. And, don't worry, we've got a web guide for next time. Heading to Barry, however, is not the true height of being a G&S fan. That occurred last Monday when a work colleague and I decided to spice up the normal tea round by making a half tea, half coffee. Just to try, you understand. (For the record it's not horrible, not exactly pleasant, but not as bad as it sounds.) And what did this week's episode feature? A toffee, or a cea. That's half coffee, half tea to you or me.

Christmas lights

Now bathed in blue light, Bristol has welcomed in Christmas. Tree branches light up College Green, waving in the wind like dancers' legs encased in sparkly fishnets. Tent roofs fashioned from glimmering tendrils hang between shops in Broadmead, and in Clifton Village a large tree has been draped in luminescent pearls.

The wrongs of spring

Sorry Stravinsky. Sorry that your iconic masterpiece The Rite of Spring is being subject to this. That while the ENO orchestra in the pit doesn't put a foot wrong in all those complex rhythms and wild accents, unleashing your score's visceral power, there's a company of dancers on stage not putting a foot right. Sorry that you have to write one of the best ballet scores out there, and the choreography of this ENO production has to be so disappointing. A mass orgy followed by cigarettes? Tens of naked mens putting on flowery dresses to symbolise - I'm told - femininity? Not radical. Ridiculous.

Background music

Sorry Adolphe Adam. Giselle might be the quintessential Romantic ballet, with lots of suffering for love, otherworldly spirits and featherweight long tutus, but - to be frank - your music's a bit dull. Yes, you might have written one of the first purpose-composed ballet scores, rather than tacking together lots of catchy melodies to make a patchwork ballet, but where's the sparkle, the drama, the melodies? Giselle dies of a broken heart, comes back as a slightly creepy being called a Wili, and then saves someone else from death through her love. Surely that deserves some musical tugging at the heartstrings? Beautiful ballet, shame about the magnolia music. (Though, as a viola player, thumbs up for the long viola solo in Act II.)

Pacific sky

Scenes from Highway 1

Forget for a moment the blue of the Pacific, the crash of the waves, the endless sky and the wheeling birds. Forget the lure of the open highway, the American dream, the thrill of driving alone, of surviving on the right-hand side of road. Forget seeing the bridges that have withstood salty seas since 1932. Forget the waterfall that empties itself on to a sandy beach, and the elephant seals lounging in the sun. I've got to forget all that. You see, I’ve just caught sight of the car clock: 2pm. So since I left my youth hostel at 10am, I’ve driven, erm, 34 miles. Leaving 232 miles before nightfall. 232 miles?! Gulp. Along twisty roads. Double gulp. With speed limits of 35mph. Have just swallowed my tongue. Right. No more getting carried away by nature’s beauty, or stopping for just one more I-might-never-see-this-again photo. Time for foot on the gas.

Losing its direction

For six months or so I've been volunteering at a homeless shelter in Bristol. The £1.6million Compass Centre is pretty much brand new, opened last May with a flourish from the local council. But now it's closing. Despite the fact that more than 20 and up to 30 people sleep there every night.Officially, there are only two rough sleepers in Bristol, but I, and all the other volunteers, know that this simply isn't true. Any council member who bothered to visit and talk to the people it helps, the staff or the volunteers would have to agree. This isn't going to be an irate post - the takeover of the centre is a done deal - but why close a well-run, busy night shelter? Why close a shelter that people feel safe in, and instead consign them to the streets or a scramble for beds in the city's only other shelter? Is money that important?