Where is the best rugby pitch in the world?
This week's Christmas question is - what's the best rugby pitch in the world? A hint - it's in the UK, there's lovely.
Let's not even mention summer rugby. Why are we playing, or trying to play, at this time of year? Madness.
The reason I ask about your favourite ground is that my neighbouring rugby club hosted a lunch (yes, games were off) and the two guests were John Barclay and Graeme Morrison from the Scotland rugby team.
There were questions like: "Are either of you single as I have a 23-year-old daughter?...", and "is rugby as much fun as it used to be?". Which was possibly a hint that, back in the day, many parents would lock up their 23-year-old daughters to ensure they never met rugby players.
Yes, rugby is now an attractive professional proposition for potential fathers in law.
Anyway, another questioner asked the players as to their favourite ground. And they agreed. And the other former international rugby players in the room agreed with them too. Astonishing.
Like you, I've seen some lovely grounds. Mull Rugby Club, looking to the mainland across the sea, is stunning. I've played in Orkney, which was incredible. Then again, there's Melrose with the Greenyards as beautiful as anywhere in the spring. Add to that Jedforest, Highland in Inverness and, oh I could go on.
The old Balgray ground in Glasgow's West End, Inverlieth in Edinburgh, where the first international game took place in 1871, and, of course, countless pitches that have become housing estates and I cite among them Glasgow University's pitches and running track at Anniesland - now covered by detached houses and flats.
I once went to a rowdy dinner there as a guest. The only time I have heard a chairman say: "Right, time to have a post-dinner break to clear soup and food off the walls and ceiling!"
Up a level, there were countless stunning rugby grounds in South Africa, from Natal to Newlands. New Zealand's grounds were beautiful with, I think, North Auckland a natural bowl with a massive grassy terrace. The old Lansdowne Road was wonderful - likewise Parc des Princes and, of course, Twickenham with its history.
You have to understand that I realise that to play at these places was, well, it was an honour.
The old Murrayfield with its terraces and schoolboy seats was paradise for a young lad who would later jump on a train with a crowd of 18-year-olds in the hope of being fed red wine by friendly Frenchmen on the terraces, or beer by the English.
That was followed by the ritual failure to discover 23-year-old girls who had been allowed to go to Murrayfield too - and then it was a mad dash for the last train home after trying to visit most of the hostelries in Rose Street.
I can't begin to tell you what it was like to be a spectator 30 years ago.
But there is one country in the UK where rugby is embedded in culture more than any other. It's a place where legends ran amok in the 1970s, where the singing of the national anthem used to, and still does, make visiting players cry and where, for a while, they would dig deep underground and there, as if by magic, they once found Barry John. Yes, that place is Wales.
Roof open or roof closed, take a bow Wales and it's people - yours is the best place to play rugby, in the world. To play on the pitch, or to be around Cardiff on international day, is still a heady blend of meeting people from different parts of the country and a little bit of rugby madness.
Happy Christmas to you all. We are so lucky to be part of this great game. I love it. My New Year's wish would be to be transported back to being 22, just for one more day, and playing another game in Cardiff.
Oh, and the Six Nations are just around the corner.