I took Daisy to Legoland yesterday. It’s school holidays so every kid under 12 in London was there.

I don’t usually talk about Daisy on this blog. Two reasons. First - I lose all critical faculties when discussing her. Second - Sally is convinced some psycho fan will kidnap her. I tried telling Sally that my fans are normal but she simply reminded of the scantily-clad girl who kept sending me pictures of herself.

But I decided to risk the wrath of Sally so I could show you this photo.

It was taken on the Pirate Falls ride.

I laugh every time I look at it.

Does that make me a bad parent?

Just got word from my publishers that the UK edition of Vroom by the Sea will be hitting bookstores across Britain in the early days of April next year.

About. Bloody. Time.

Now I can answer all the emails asking me about it. That’s at least half of the 743 emails in my inbox cleared!

Wednesday was Australia Day at the Cowes Week Regatta. Basically three Aussies dressed up in kangaroo costumes and bounced around yachties drinking Fosters, Wolf Blass and Bundaberg Rum. All to promote a corresponding event sponsored by Scandia and held down in Geelong. I did my bit by tucking into the Bundy and Coke.

It wasn’t the brightest of ideas. My mate had got me onto to boat racing the next day and as we made our way out to the starting line I was feeling decidedly green. Once the race started I was OK - not being a regular (or natural) sailor I had to concentrate on which ropes I was pulling. The only tricky moment was when the skipper handed out our lunch - pork pies that seemed to have a lot of jelly between the pastry and the meat.

Anyway, we finally found the finish line, and came in a respectable 15th in our class.

Later in the week I had a bit of a wander around the Isle of Wight and came across another Aussie connection. Apparently all the rockets we fired off for the Brits out at Woomera were all built and tested in concrete bunker/pads near the Needles in the western corner of the island.

Not sure why they didn’t launch them there and save the expense of shipping them to South Australia. I’m guessing they didn’t have much control of them and were afraid of hitting something.

And figured that Adelaide was expendable.

I’m off to Cowes tomorrow to take part in the Regatta. A mate of mine from Australia has come over to race and has smuggled me onboard his team. I can sleep on the couch in the team HQ as long as I pretend to interview the captain for The Guardian.

It’s going to be a bit of a culture shock. This time last week I was drinking mead with Vikings dressed in pelts. Now it’s beer and Mount Gay rum with guys in spray jacket and deck shoes.

Thanks again to everyone up north who made my stay so memorable - Simon Varwell, Lee James, Doc Suzy, Joe and Veronica from Busta House, Drew and Vivienne from the Crofters Association, Terry Garland and all my adopted Viking family in the Egilson clan.

BTW, that’s me wearing the cheap Chinese Viking hat. Doubtlessly you’re wondering ‘Why?’

More about all that when the book comes out.

Just spent a few days at the northern most part of Britain without an internet connection or mobile coverage.

So far in the Shetlands I’ve hung out with a Kiwi guy who tracked down the bay his family rowed out of when they set of for NZ in 1840. Chewed the fat with some chaps who spend five weeks every summer living like Vikings. And seen more puffins than I could poke a stick at.

Two observations - they’re smaller than I thought they’d be. And every time they try to fly it looks like something you’d see on Australia’s Funniest Home Videos.

The puffins, that is. Not the Vikings.

Just off to see The Proclaimers officially close the Highland Games. They’re playing in a big tent in Bught Park. The tent is slightly longer than it was meant to be. The original tent they were going to use got torn at a festival in Ireland. The upside for the promoters is that they can squeeze an extra 100 people in.

Anyway, I’m sure you are all wondering if I got to compete in the games and how I fared. Sadly, I stepped up to take part in the Inverness Stone throw and was told I couldn’t compete unless I wore a kilt. All the tourist shops were back in town and no-one was willing to lend me one. Simon said I should have bought the Kilt Towel I’d admired in the windows of Woolies. Oh well, live and learn!

The photo above is just a random shot of some guys wearing kilts. I like it ‘cos it looks like a scene out of a Scottish version of Reservoir Dogs. Three Mr Tartans, maybe.

Yep. It’s that time again. I’m another year older but not necessarily any wiser. I’m currently in Inverness, knocking back a pint of Tennents as I avail myself of the free WiFi at the local Smith & Jones pub.

I’m up here for the Highland Games which start tomorrow. And then a week up on the Shetland Islands. I can’t tell you how excited I am.

Later tonight I’m catching up with Simon Varwell, a long-time contributor to this blog. He’s promised to show me the Inverness hotspots tonight. I’m returning the favour by dragging him along to see The Proclaimers on Sunday night. (They’re ‘closing’ the games.)

After watching a couple of kids hotwire a red Golf in the carpark next to the train station I’m still not sure who’s got the best deal.

Anyway, a big thanks to everyone who has wished me a happy birthday - both by email and on my wall over at Facebook. It’s very much appreciated!

I’m heading out to Norfolk for a week for a family holiday. Judging by the BBC’s five day forecast it’ll be your typical English summer holiday - three days of rain followed by a couple of cloudy ones with intermittent sunshine. Should be fun.

In the meantime, if you find yourself at a loose end, why not invade New Zealand? The producers of this ad certainly put forward a compelling argument.

It was created as part of a show on the ABC called The Gruen Transfer that asks two advertising agencies to pitch competing ads to sell controversial products. A couple of weeks ago it was whale meat. This week it’s invading our neighbours across the ditch.

One agency appeals to the Aussie love of a day off. The other, well, to a love of fast jets and things going bang.

Personally, I’m going with the strapline ‘100% too easy.’

(Thanks to John Birmingham for alerting me to this on his blog Cheeseburger Gothic)

Popped over to the Forum at Kentish Town on Friday night to see the Hoodoo Gurus. It was the London leg of the tour that took them to Glastonbury.

I went with Uncle Hunty, a regular contributor to this blog. Hunty’s a big bloke so we didn’t have to worry about any knife-wielding teenagers on the Northern Line from Waterloo. He also got served pretty quickly at the bar.

The gig wasn’t sold out so we were able to get a good spot up front, right near the speakers. The Gurus were in top form, cranking out all their hits and a few I hadn’t heard for a while. Highlights were Leilani (although they stuffed up the finish), Bittersweet and a cracking version of Tojo, clearly a crowd favourite.

I loved every minute of it. So did the audience. But when I bought a round from a young English guy behind the bar, I wondered what he made of the songs. South Sea Island princesses throwing themselves into volcanoes, talking cyclones, cops dancing with paisley-clad revellers and odes to greyhound racing - not the sort of stuff Franz Ferdinand sing about.

It made me realise that the Gurus are a particularly Australian band. They couldn’t have come from anywhere else. I made my way home, my ears ringing, a grin on my face, kind of pleased about that.

BTW Here’s a few YouTube videos of the band. Tojo is sadly missing the immortal last line - ‘That year Santa never came.’ And Leilani showcases Australian fashion circa 1982. Scary.

I got an email the other day from a company called CheapoAir. They offer ‘low cost airfares and travel products for budget travellers’ and asked me to do an unbiased, paid for review of their website.

I don’t know how much they were offering. I didn’t ask. Paid for reviews - unbiased or otherwise - is not something I do. I like to think that you guys expect me to tell you how things really are and if money changes hands that trust gets tainted. That’s why I made a conscious decision not to have any advertising on this site.

Still, the email got me thinking. Is there a decent web site out there for finding cheap airfares? Some people have suggested Skyscanner to me but I always find the cheap fares are gone when I get to the official airline site.

If I want to go somewhere these days I check the websites of the usual suspects - RyanAir, EasyJet et al - to see what they’re offering and then check the national airlines like BA or SAS to see if I can get a flight for the same price, or just a little bit more, that gives me a baggage allowance, feeds me during the flight and flies out of a more convenient airport.

Maybe I’m making life hard for myself and there is a better, easier, cheaper way of doing things.

Any tips?