One night back in blessed West Yorkshire and off we go again. Ahead of me is a night in Frome and a date with Paul Nicholls.

Despite my obsession with the champion trainer and his flawless barnet, it isn't a candlelit dinner at Pizza Hut, but a video shoot on Wednesday morning.

I don't know why but I always go to pieces when confronted by a camera and the great man. This time will be different. I am doing some homework.

So instead of heading for the bright lights of "a character market town in unspoilt Somerset" - not my words - the words of the official tourist guide - I am staying in my single en-suite room.

Armed with a notepad, two newspapers and a print-out of Cheltenham entries, I expect to know more than the master of Dicheat about his running plans on Wednesday morning.

It helps the hotel I'm staying in only has three Sky channels available.

One is a subscription one which work won't pay for, one is Film Four and the other is Dave.

I am a huge fan of Trawlermen (the TV series - not a general observation, although I do admire their bravery and the fruits of the sea they harvest) but that's over by 8pm.

I will leave the credit card with Nina to ensure temptation doesn't get the better of me and I call reception for the special code for channel six.

I'm also a day too late to see Hoof at the Merlin Theatre. It is described as "A physical theatre show with puppets, tap dancing hooves and nostalgic tv clips for children and childish adults."

So instead armed with a torch, flask of black coffee and a fountain pen I will do my first after-school studying since the disastrous build-up to the economics A level of 1990.

This time I will do my parents proud.

Well at least until Pulling comes on Dave at 10pm.