It’s a long drive to Tenby

Let’s play I spy!

No, let’s not…

I spy with my little eye something beginning with…umm…S.

Sigh?

No.

Sheep?

No.

Sycamore?

No.

Psychopath?

Funny.

Cynic?

Fuck off.

Space?

No. Give in?

Definitely not. Shit?

No.

Sweets?

No.

Spanish Practices? Ok I give in, what’s the answer?

Signpost. My go again…I spy with…

No, let’s play Complete The Pair instead.

Never heard of it. What the fuck’s Complete The Pair?

It will become all too apparent. I’ll start. Morecambe and?

Wise.

Laurel and?

Hardy.

Abbot and?

Costello.

Reeves and?

Hey! Mortimer.

French and?

Saunders.

Fry and?

Laurie. Yawn.

Little and?

Large. They were crap.

Hale and?

Pace. They were crapper.

Cannon and?

Ball. Never knowingly made anyone laugh.

Smith and?

Jones. Can’t stand him.

Lee and?

Umm…Herring?

Correct! Ant and?

Dec. I wouldn’t call them a comedy double-act.

Who said this is just comedy double-acts? Mitchell and?

Webb.

Newman and?

Baddiel.

Baddiel and?

Skinner. That Baddiel keeps busy.

Punt and?

Dennis. It’s lucky Punt never teamed up with Tommy Cooper and they were introduced by James Naughtie!

Cheech and?

Chong! Watch the road!

Beavis and?

Butt-head!

Rem and?

Stimpy. Couldn’t get into it.

Pete and?

Dud. He was 4’11” and had a club foot, yet women fancied him.

It was his money they fancied. Derek and?

Clive! Brilliant, the only comedy album I ever bought. Language that would make a stevedore blush.

Are stevedores particularly known for their swearing? Hey man, you’re doing well. Now it gets tougher. Flanagan and?

Allen. Underneath the Arches. Remember when Mike Flanagan and Clive Allen were QPR’s twin strikers?

How could anyone forget such a momentous event. Flanders and?

Swann. That’s odd; he was from Llanelli and we’ve just passed the Llanelli exit

Donald Swann was from Llanelli? I didn’t know that. Pinky and?

Perky. That was a kid’s programme and they were piglet puppets.

Rather like Ant and Dec then! Mike and Bernie?

Winters. Ghastly.

The Two?

Ronnies. Overrated.

The Blues?

Brothers.

The Chuckle?

Brothers.

The Dangerous?

Brothers.

The Righteous?

Brothers, bro. You’re on to music now. Stop at Pont Abraham, I’m bursting for a pee.

Bill and?

Ben. The flowerpot men…

Bootsie and?

Umm…oh…don’t tell me…umm…Smudge?

No, Snudge. But I’ll allow it. Ryan and?

Ryan? Umm…dunno. No, don’t know that one. 

You mean to tell me you’ve never heard of Ryan and Ronnie? You’ve been living in Wales 50 fucking years and you’ve never heard of Ryan and Ronnie? Good god mun, you’ve been so thoroughly Britified I might as well be talking to a robot. Here we are, end of motorway. Yes Ryan and Ronnie are both long dead, but that didn’t stop you knowing Flanagan and Allen. But of course, I’m forgetting, they were English weren’t they? Look at this dithering old fool trying to park. Come on granddad you’re driving a Fiesta not a fucking double-decker bus. I think one of them committed suicide, not sure which…must look it up, could be a blog in it. Right, hurry up. Oh Col, while you’re in there get me a milky coffee, a pack of skins and a tide table booklet…  

And we wended our way via Cross Hands, Caerfyrddin and Sanclêr, Llandowror, Rhos-goch and Cilgeti, down to the sparkling sea.