Last year, we had Barbenheimer – watching a low-brow, humourous film in the same week as a high-brow, serious film – in that case, Barbie and Oppenheimer.

This weekend, me and the missus did Gladdington.

I’m sure you can work out the two films involved.

We enjoyed them both, though I felt Ridley Scott’s epic stretched incredulity somewhat.

Whereas, a talking bear…

Anyway, yesterday, myself, Son and a couple of mates headed up to the NEC in Birmingham for our annual trip to the Motorcycle Live Show.

It was all rather fab, with so much to see and do… and eat.

A small highlight was the Isle of Man simulator, which gave us a taste of what it’s like to blat around the TT course on two wheels at stupid speeds. Now that’s out of my system, I have no need to actually go and do it (because that was really going to happen, wasn’t it?).

I also came away with a couple of carrier bags’ worth of merchandising, that I probably shouldn’t have been spending my hard-earned (cough) dosh on.

But that’s the thing with these shows: you just don’t know that you need a pair of overpriced, corrective boot insoles, until you see them.