Ballet

Today was our annual family outing to London to see my cousin Billy dancing at Covent Garden Opera House with the Royal School of Ballet. I'm soooo proud of him! He's a Swansea boy originally, and he's been dancing since he was old enough to walk, just about. My Aunty Patsy used to bring him to Cardiff for lessons at the Welsh Institute of Sport, right next to my local, Y Mochyn Du.

I could gush on about his achievements, but it would probably embarrass the hell out of him, so I won't. Actually, all of my Swansea cousins are crazy talented. His two older sisters, Sali and Lana, are both artistically gifted. Sali is at art college in London, where she's a sculptor. She recently gave an exhibition where she'd welded three bicycles together. The two at the front drove the contraption forward, and the peddler on the back drove an electrical generator that powered a music player. Very clever, though I didn't get to see it - Mum and Merrick went for the day. Lana is at Edinburgh, I think, and she's really talented at painting.

So, anyway, enough gushing. It will be the last time I'll see him for a bit, as I'm off on this Rwanda trip. Tickets for the Royal Ballet can command between £250-£1,000, so maybe next time I won't be able to afford to watch him dance!

It was brilliant, though - this year as always - and you see each of the years showcasing work, from the tiny, tiny ones right up to the top of year, like Billy. His Julie Walters also came to watch (the ballet teacher who discovered him and put him forward for the auditions).

We had a good wander round Covy afterward. I used to spend a lot of time there when I was visiting Dad at weekends. He used to live in Sutton, Crystal Palace and then Croydon, where I went to the British Record Industry Trust School of Performing Arts. I have fond memories of the place and it hasn't changed too much.