Let me start at the beginning, just like Julie Andrews did.

I was brought up in the Welsh Baptist tradition. Chapel and Sunday School was part of my DNA. I nailed every Nativity play performance, stood proudly in the pulpit to recite ‘Duw Cariad Yw’ – God is Love – well in advance of some fellow toddler pilgrims, and even dressed up as Archbishop Desmond Tutu for one service.

We were a restrained breed of Baptist, far removed from our namesakes in America’s Deep South. We bore no resemblance whatsoever to the formidable evangelism of Those Born Again, but came into our own when the need arose for a hymn in four part harmony.

There was no fire and brimstone in our Seion Chapel in Morriston, though I do vividly recall colouring in a picture of Adam Ant once when Aunty Jean ran out of photocopies from the Epic Scenes…