I figured it was time to return.

Firstly, because Angel sent me a message: “What are you up to?!”. I thought “Wow, someone actually wants to know?”

Secondly, because it’s the first night of Euro 2012!

I must admit I was hoping to see some more drama at the opening ceremony.

I was expecting hordes of racist banners with right-wing angry hooligans shouting at the players.

I figured the players would storm off the pitch and UEFA would have no choice but to quickly move the games to Germany.

The BBC would excitedly report the news with knowing “I told you so” faces.

But alas, the game commenced with no real problem from fans.

England, however are still on guard. They’ve dispatched specialist ambulances around the capital to deal specifically with alcohol related problems.

What a wonderful message to send to football high boozers; “Don’t worry lads! Drink yourselves into a coma, there’s an ambulance outside this pub on guard to help.”

To be fair, there are still people in Union Jack outfits, roaming the streets, pissed as hell from the Jubilee weekend.

I bumped into a group of such drunk people yesterday. They smelt of urine, were caked with street dirt and were bragging about having to piss in the recycling bin.

I wrinkled my nose and crossed the road to the safer side.

Throughout the whole booze-filled Jubilee weekend I sipped my fruit juice and smiled with a I-don’t-care-I-can’t-drink shrug.

Secretly I was jealous. I wanted to drink with the others as we barbecued the over-priced, special Union Jack sausages under an umbrella in the rain.

The cold rain doesn’t bother the pissed individuals fighting over tongs.

Instead I sat in the warm kitchen and patted my little bump and quietly murmured “it’ll be worth it when you arrive.”