Do you remember back in May how I went to Amsterdam to see my beloved Radiohead and when we arrived there was a sign written in the Times New Roman of Doom that said the show was cancelled because Phil The Drummer's mother had passed away suddenly and I plunged into despair which was quickly followed by crushing guilt for being disappointed considering the circumstances? Remember? Remember?

Since then I've felt bad about being too huffy to properly enjoy my time in such a fine city. At the Van Gogh museum the day after the Cancellation, I stared gloomily at one of his paintings, something involving hay or flowers. I read the caption about him chopping off his ear and thought, I hear ya buddy. Then I smacked myself in the head with my camera for being such an obnoxious twit.

So really, I felt duty bound to return to Amsterdam and see it properly! YES! And it had nothing to do with the concert being rescheduled and this being the very last show of their tour and lord knows how long it would be before they toured again. But our tickets were still valid and there were cheap flights from KLM. I'm sure a chap as environmentally worried as Thom Yorke would frown at our frivolous flying, but I couldn't resist!

It was a whirlwind 48 hours in Amsterdam, but we gave it a red hot go. From the canal boats to the cafes to the coffeeshops to the hot chips in the paper cones, we really wolfed it all down.

Now I'm deep in the throes of vacation withdrawls, just aching to be back in Super Happy Fun Holidayland. Every time I walk down a street I glare at it with disappointment because it doesn't have a canal running through it. Stupid non-Dutch streets.

Dinner by the canal.

The concert was incredible. Oh baby. Radiohead just get better every time and make me feel glad to be alive. Don't go telling me that they went crap after OK Computer. I am still in my Super Happy Fun Concertland bubble and I'm not coming out yet. La la la!

People always bang on about what a miserable bunch Radiohead are, but I heartily disagree. The show was foxy and fun and the band looked to be having a grand old time. The new songs went down a treat and Thom did his crazy dancing. Jokes were cracked! I am also happy to report that unlike last time, I stayed conscious for the entire gig!

Most importantly, here is the Ed O'Brien Report. Which I'm sure is only of interest to me, but I like to note these things en blog and track my obsessions through the ages. So, in the three years that have passed since our last encounter: Ed is still more ridiculously handsome than should be legal. He is still deliciously tall, sings beautifully, plays nice guitar and does lots of fiddling round with various bleeping machines, further proving that he is not just lanky eye candy, dammit.

SHAUNA: I also noted tonight that in the three years that have passed since our last encounter, Ed is now wearing a wedding band.

GARETH: And so are you!

SHAUNA: Oh… yeah.

I took a few photos during the show but they were universally rubbish, as my view was hindered by the rows of tall, strapping Dutchmen in front of me; plus it is hard to focus the camera in a heightened state of arousal poor lighting conditions.

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On Wednesday I ate a bagel with cream cheese and chugged down a large hot chocolate with whipped cream. The occasion called for serious carbo loading. We had a Radiohead show to attend! You may recall the last time I saw my beloved boys, I embarassingly fainted from excitement, and knocked over a few lasses before hitting the floor. This time I was determined to be prepared and get through the gig without medical attention. There's no way to describe how excited I was without sounding like a really sad bastard. It was so all-consuming, my limbs were tingling and my heart trilled like an idling engine. I just wanted to get there and get my elbows out to jostle for a good spot, to see the lights dip and hear the crowd roar. Oh you know the feeling, it's the same glorious anticipation when it's been too long between shags or you've just undressed a family-size chocolate bar. Last time I saw Radiohead I'd only been going out with Gareth for a couple of weeks, but now we're old and married I don't have to have to pretend that it's entirely about the music. He is most tolerant and understanding of my undying lust for his royal tallness, Mister Ed O'Brien. "Where are you going to stand? Edside, I presume?" "Oh fuck aye!" "And I s'pose you'll be wanting to get up close since he's cut his hair short again, just the way you like it." "Wheeeeeeeeeee!" This gig was all the more interesting because it was in Amsterdam. Radiohead announced their mini European tour a few months ago, playing smaller venues to showcase their new tunes. This sparked a ticketing frenzy, and after seven fruitless hours on their pre-sale website then a panicky encounter with the Ticketmaster general sale a few days later, we decided to go Dutch. Or rather, I decided and then later convinced Gareth to come along and bring the smelling salts and spare undies. Besides, I'd never been to Amsterdam before and it would be our first holiday together in which we didn't have one of our weddings to go to! So after a day of sightseeing we finally arrived at the Heineken Music Hall, all well nourished and hydrated. We were greeted with the Times New Roman of Doom.

Sadly, due to a sudden and unexpected family bereavement, the show was cancelled. It's a strange situation, because on one hand you can't help feeling crushed that you came a long way to see your most favourite band and now you won't see them and even though the show has been rescheduled for August you won't be able to come because it was a fiscal stretch to make this sortie to Amsterdam, let alone do it all over again in a few months. But on the other hand, you feel the PIRANHAS OF GUILT gnawing at your stomach for feeling so devastated, because somebody has lost someone, and you know how you'd feel if it happened to you. We later found out that it was Phil Selway's mum who passed away. He posted a wee message on their blog which makes your heart go out to him.

"Just wanted to say sorry to the people who were due to come to our show in Amsterdam last night, particularly those who made wasted journeys. My mum died suddenly in the early hours of yesterday morning and so I just wanted to be at home with my family. Mum was a big Radiohead fan, and was very proud of all we've done as a band. I love and miss her very much."

Oh you just read that and really hope he is doing okay. And you want to reassure on behalf of all dedicated-but-totally-not-stalkersome fans that it was not a wasted journey because we got to spend a couple of days in a great city. We saw touristy things like Anne Frank's House and the Van Gogh Museum and ladies in glass boxes in the Red Light District. It averaged 23 degrees so I freaked out at the unfamiliar sensation of sunshine on bare arms. But my favourite bit was last night, sitting by the canals near 10pm, eating takeaway sushi and watching all the people cruising past in their boats. Unfortunately every photo I took on this trip is beyond mediocre, so just close your eyes and imagine blue skies and squeaky bicycles.

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For the past five years, Rory has compiled an annual list of his favourite books, albums, movies, foodstuffs and visited cities. It's dead charming to have this record of evolving tastes, interests and adventures. I almost wish I'd done the same thing, except laziness always prevailed in the past. But here's me giving it a red hot go for 2004.

I'm ashamed to admit I did not finished one single book this year, but started nine. My favourite albums were Margarine Eclipse by Stereolab and Blue by Joni Mitchell. I guzzled down olives, oatcakes and port (The Drink of Mothballed Aunties). My top fillums were Eternal Sunshine and The Motorcycle Diaries, the latter I saw twice because it gave me the horn for South America and that smouldering siren Gael Garcia Bernal. I'd start a revolution in his pants any day.

The one thing I can do properly a la Rory is the list of Visited Cities. 2004 was the Year of the Crazy Travelling so you must allow me to indulge. There will never again be such a wild orgy of travel, and I will no doubt spend 2005 crying into my passport, clawing my itchy feet and mourning the heady days where all that mattered was saving up dosh for the next adventure.

So here's the touns in chronological order:

1. Glasgow, Scotland
2. Copenhagen, Denmark
3. Stockholm, Sweden
4. Helsinki, Finland
5. St Petersburg, Russia
6. Moscow, Russia
7. Minsk, Belarus
8. Warsaw, Polan
9. Berlin, Germany
10. Prague, Czech Republic*
11. Riga, Latvia
12. Tallinn, Estonia
13. Vilnius, Lithuania
14. Alicante, Spain
15. Valencia, Spain
16. London, England

* Just the airport. That doesn't count!

I chopped out assorted provincial Russian and Baltic cities as well as our Scottish highland and island jaunts to make the list a sweet sixteen and to dilute my wankiness. Ha ha!

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