Tense energy everywhere. All packed, tour schedules photocopied, hotels booked. That side of things fine. Where are the CDs? .Due to a couple of minor problems, the new CD ‘Works in Progress’ have not yet arrived. They were promised by 10.30 but still not here at 12. Starting to load the van when they arrive. More tension while we tear open the first box. The cover is fine – colour reproduced well- everything OK. Rushing into studio to listen to it and ‘eureka’ it sounds good as well. What do I mean ‘good’ – it sounds great!!!. Neil recorded the CD with the slavinian musicians ‘Terrafolk’ who were here to do a couple of gigs and we all get emotional listening to the enthusiasm they put into the tracks. Boxes loaded into big blue van and off we go up the A12 and into the sunshine. Ten minutes later the sky turns black and it rains solidly till we get to the first gig – The Millfield Theatre in North-East London. From outside the theatre looks like a large brick box but inside it is good with a low stage and comfortable seats leading up and back from the stage. Neil, JJ and Tom set up the stage while I set up the merchandising table and then look for drinks – water, tea etc for the guys. The stage manager says they aren’t available. I ask to look at the rider and see that the words ‘tea, water, beer and one bottle of wine’ have been crossed through by the theatre and then signed by our agent, who, needless to say will not be ‘looking after us’ again. ‘And by the way’ the manager adds, looking at the t-shirts, cds and other merchandise, ‘we take 15% of everything you sell’. First gig and you meet someone like that.

Should really introduce you to the two lovely people who are with Neil on this tour and who also worked on the album with Neil. J.J. Jones lives in Suffolk quite nearby and is a fantastic ‘listening’ drummer. He left home to join a rock band when he was fifteen and a half and he hasn’t stopped drumming since. He, in turn, introduced Neil to the baby of the group – Tom- nickname ‘The Professor’ ( he has a degree in music). Tom plays double bass and every sort of music from a circus band during the vacations while at college, through jazz, rock and ending with Neil. He also adds a sort of street cred to the band – ‘babe magnet’. When the sound people get it right and you can hear all three musicians clearly, the effect is magic – Tom’s bass playing is beautiful – he plays a solo to die for in ‘Friends at The End.’

So coming back to our first night – the sound and lighting are mediocre as is always the case when there is bad feeling at the management end of things. There are about 120 people – all terrific fans and apart from the negative vibes generated by the theatre, it turns out to be a slightly wobbly but good evening. Neils set list includes two numbers on the ukulele –‘My Little Ukelele and ‘All alone’ from the new CD. Then ‘Bold Sir Robin’, Face Mail and Hee Haw. Then ’Cats’, ‘Never Alone’ and ‘Ego Warriors’, finishing off the first half with ‘The Philosophers Song’. These are all interspersed with cod adverts sung by their alter-egos ‘Rory Motion and The Drainpipes.’ The second half starts off with ‘Idiot’, followed by ‘Protest Song’, ‘Crystal Balls’, ‘Evening Sun’ and the ever popular Rutles medley. Then ‘Friends’, ‘Godfrey Daniel’, ‘Eye Candy’, One of those People’ and ‘Hero’, leaving ‘Urban Spaceman and ‘Back in ‘64’ for the encores. Sandwiched between all these songs are stories and comments ‘a la Innes’ on life and times in the consumer society of the 21st century. We sell about twelve new CDs but also a fair number of Recollections 2 and 3. I am hoping to persuade Neil to press a few more Recollections 1 – there is a big demand for the whole set. The Ego Warrior T-shirts sales are slow but I have high hopes for them.

Neil comes out to sign and chat with the audience at the end which is when I can pack up and begin to unplug and stow away the guitars and stage props. Tom has only the double base to bag but J.J., like all drummers has to slowly and methodically work his way through all the kit himself so he knows exactly where the bits and pieces are at the next gig.

Now a long drive – we are all tired but the agents, in their wisdom, booked Dunfirmline in Scotland for tomorrow and so we must drive at least three hours to get us some way up the motorway before the morning. So we set off for Leeds – Neil taking the first shift at the wheel since he was still high on adrenaline. Reminded me of some of the distances we travelled between gigs in the US last year. But at least then we had a couple of days to get there. After one stop when J.J takes over the wheel we arrive at a Travelodge just outside Leeds at 3.30am and sink quickly into unconsciousness.

Neil’s thought for the day ‘one man’s pragmatism is another man’s bodge’

Tom’s first thought ‘Oh, what, you mean I have to say something. Oh! Well…..um…poo’. Well he is only 25!

JJ ‘All in one bite’ !!!!! Can see this is going to be an intellectual and highly stimulating tour.

Awoke at eight not sure where, what or how but Neil had promised to sign 400 CDs for Danny Barbour and he is to meet us at the hotel before we shoot up to Scotland. So we make a kind of conveyor belt – me opening CDs, Neil signing and Danny repacking. Then to MacDonalds - we have no choice - the hotel is right beside the motorway with nothing else around. We walk out of the hotel into a flurry of snowflakes and a couple of inches of snow which have fallen overnight, hoping it isn’t the settling kind of snow which causes traffic to divert, pile-ups, frost bite etc We are pleasantly surprised when MacDonalds offer us toast but it turns out to be soft and doughy rather than almost burnt and crisp, which is the way us Brits like it. The coffee is OK so gradually we come out of the haze and we join J.J. and Tom in the van for our next few hundred miles along the motorway, which by this time is dusted with snow –happily not the settling kind. We take turns driving – about two hours each- stopping for lunch at an ‘Olde English’ type of pub with a log fire, on which the manager keeps burning plastic bottles - he says it makes the fire brighter – ho-hum.

The converted van which is our home for the month has been fully customised by J.J. It has three areas. In the back is the instrument section with space for the double bass, drum kit, Neils flight cases and all the merchandise.. In the middle is the living area, carpeted throughout – even the sides- with a large ‘showbiz’ darkened window. Two reclaimed coach seats face each other and there are little alcoves for coats, drinks, magazines, a CD player and a TV. Eat your heart out Brian Wilson. No, actually, his is a little larger…. And I think his has a bathroom – J.J. is working on it. We discovered it is better to put the suit cases between the seats, rather than in the back, so we could virtually lie down when we weren’t driving. It gets cold, so we end up wearing just about every bit of clothing we possess and then a blanket. Funny how I thought the journeys would be long and boring, so bought all sorts of books and games which are used at the start of the journey. After an hour or so we either sleep or gaze out of the window in a sort of trance until we get to the gig and then have about a minute to get ourselves together before unloading all the stuff which a few hours before we had loaded up.

It has snowed all day and is still snowing but at least it is the melting kind of snow so we will be at The Carnegie Hall, Dunfirmline a couple of hours before the gig. We pop into the hotel, with views across the Firth of Forth – not from our rooms. They were at the back – cheap rate. I remember thinking while Neil and I were driving across parts of America how incredibly beautiful it was and how come we didn’t have scenery like that in England. Now I remember we do actually and it’s called Scotland!!!! Snow -capped mountains, deep green valleys warm welcoming pubs, friendly people. The Carnegie Hall is a big council- run theatre – looks austere and unwelcoming with a high stage and uncomfortable seats. But it also has the nicest sound and lighting crews you could meet. All the drinks were already in the dressing room and the manager was just about as helpful as he could be – no mention of commission on the merchandise. Suddenly remembered we were ‘over the border’ and no longer in England.

The band finish the sound check and then run through ‘Charlie Big Potatoes’ a couple of times just to see if Tom and J.J. can remember all the conversational bits, but decide they need a bit more practise. Then an hour to wait before the show. Neil sits in a corner with his notepad in his lap and his eyes closed. The show goes well –the only glitch being Neil’s ovation which has a tendency to detune itself. Tom performs a couple of his poems – he has written a small book of verse – during the few minutes it takes to retune. About 190 people have turned up all smiling and enthusiastic and again wanting the new CD plus Recollections 1,2 + 3. Also buying the T-shirts, mainly black, which is apparently the most popular ‘colour’. The manager sits right through the whole show just popping out now and then to check things. Neil signs CDs for about an hour this time and the crew show no signs of impatience. Then back to hotel around 12am watching the lights twinkling across the water. We expect the hotel to be in darkness and dry but we are in luck. There is a late party going on so we can order drinks and even sandwiches. We are all overtired so we stay far too long finally falling into bed around 3am.

Neil’s thought for the day
‘we all have the right to pursue happiness but what’s the point when it goes faster than we do’

Neil and I wake late , miss breakfast and feel our way downstairs to meet JJ sitting reading a book having had breakfast and a walk and looking fresh as a flower. We can just about manage a coffee. I walk outside to take photographs and the full freshness of the Scottish lowlands washes over and around me and suddenly I feel Ok. Same thing happens as Neil and then Tom stagger out into the sunshine. An easy ride across Scotland from east to on the west. Fantastic scenery. We sit gazing at the hills Neil doing the crossword, JJ driving, chatting gently amongst ourselves and find we have passed the hotel where we are staying for the gig at Irvine. We pass and repass trying to find the way in from the motorway. It is a semi -circular new red brick building with an ‘olde’eastern theme- mosaic tiles, arches etc around the reception and then the usual beige washed walls once through the ‘guest’ doors. It was only 1.30 now so we think there is time for a quick lunch and a few hours sleep before the sound check. Neil particularly is exhausted especially after a walk of at least ten minutes with heavy cases, through several set of fire doors and up flights of stairs to our room about as far away from the main hotel as it could be Then lunch took so long to arrive that we had ½ an hour before having to set off for the Magnum Theatre. We pile into the van again and drive out of town to the gig.This did not look promising. A huge metal and brick sports complex stuck in the middle of a wasteland. Inside, however, it was a dream – a huge ice rink, swimming pools really good theatre, fantastic technicians.

The band use the sound check time to run through a couple of numbers they might play. I have been trying to get them to do ‘Charlie Big Potatoes’ without success so far and Neil has been working on ‘Disillusioned’ so both might be there by then end of the tour. These first few gigs are always good for finding the best ways to do things. The audiences at the last few gigs have the better deal in one way in that they get a more polished show although maybe its is just as good to be there seeing the glitches – always funny. Neil makes a point of saying ‘I have never done a slick show and I don’t intend to start now’. The gig goes really well – fantastic sing-a-long audience buying lots of CDs and T-shirts. I spend most of the show watching ice hockey on the ice rink below the theatre – most exciting sport I have ever seen. Children as young as nine tearing round the rink with all the confidence of a speed boat. After the gig we stop at a supermarket for a whole list of little things like pens, shaving stuff, face cream etc and in the cold first hours of a snowy morning get carried away and buy cheeses, and nuts and cracker and grapes to eat as a sort of midnight feast back at the hotel. Once there we could do nothing but sleep so this night’s supper becomes tomorrows lunch.

Neil’s thought for the day
‘i have always been led to believe that ice hockey was an organ recital where a fight breaks out’

Another long drive down to Cannock just north of Birmingham. All have Scottish money which is often rejected in England – there are so many versions of it that it is easy to forge. Need to find a bank. We don’t let Neil drive so the three of us did a couple of hours each with the usual stops and arrive at Cannock and the Roman Way Hotel at around 5pm. This is the first place where the girl at reception did a double take when Tom, with his white dreadlock,s walked in. Tom is about 6’4” tall and skinny so is easy to spot without the hair. This woman seems not able to deal with it so it becomes difficult to communicate re. keys to the room etc. Find we are about a ten minute walk with heavy cases from the foyer so think the hotel must be full. In fact it is empty so Neil is furious they have put us there. We literally have to drop the cases and rush off to the gig. We arrive in a flurry of snow, park, introduce ourselves and are promptly told by the soundguy we have parked in the wrong place and would we move the van from the particular spot we had chosen to park. Beginning to have doubts about this gig. We move the van. The theatre is a big council- run place with uncomfortable seats on the floor area below a high stage and then padded seats sloping up to the sound box. The band sets up and rehearses Charlie at last. The sound is good and the crew helpful. Heart lifts. Not much time to set up the merchandising but the crew carry the boxes and tell me they do not take commission. ‘Joy’. Then in come the audience - over 200 and all keen as mustard some buying one of everything on the table and all wanting things signed. Nearly sell out of black t-shirts and the new CD is selling as fast as I can put it on the table.

The audience loves the show and there is a huge crowd to meet Neil afterwards including one guy who knew of a really good club nearby more suited to Neil’s show. We are taking notes of all these so we can put a tour together ourselves with a proper rider and terms and conditions etc. This gig gave us water, beer and a bottle of wine, the crew were excellent, the audience enthusiastic, so we fell elated as we drive back through ‘chubby’ snow to the hotel. Dead as a dodo so we just go to bed.

Neils thought for the day: ‘69p for a banana?????’

Today Birkenhead – also Neil and my 39th wedding anniversary – yes you read that correctly 39!!!!!! And he’s right the first 25 years are the worst!!!! He brings me breakfast in bed after a near fight with management of hotel who were confused by the idea of taking a tray to a room even if it was a ‘special’ day. We are definately not here to relax, eat, grab a little r+r, but simply to annoy them – so that is one hotel to avoid if you are ever drawn to the Liverpool area. There is a covering of snow on the ground, but again not the settling kind but we drive carefully out onto the motorway having deposited ourselves in various places, two to carry on sleeping, one to drive, one to navigate. This time JJ puts some CDs on to while away the time. He DJs from French crooners to classical stuff to heavy rock -never sure what we will be listening to next which pretty much keeps us awake till we reach Birkenhead. It is always easy to get from town to town – the problem comes as we try to locate the gig and it takes ages to find this one. We arrive late after fruitless efforts to phone and tell them. Our agents have not yet provided one useful phone number or one good set of directions– just box office numbers. But the crew are waiting and help with all the boxes. Then one of them shows us through to the dressing rooms and asks if there is anything we would like. We say the rider would be fine and he says ‘forget the rider, what would you like’. Instantly we feel good – he brings a huge assortment of sandwiches, drinks etc. We think back to theatres where even the meagre, water beers and a bottle of wine rider has been crossed out, and the bad feelings it creates all round which eventually has to effect the audience. That sort of theatre works only for itself. In contrast, with such good feeling around, the whole experience is happy. Mike McCartney introduces Neil. The set goes very well except that Neils ovation is detuning itself. To allow him some time to retune Neil gets Tom to recite one of his poems – he has produced a small book of poetry and is about to unleash one more to an unsuspecting public. A mixed reception but Tom enjoys himself hugely. The gig ends to long sustained applause and then its down to packing and stacking. Mike McCartney stays around chatting to Tom and JJ while Neil signs CDs. Mike has always lived in Birkenhead and is a lovely bear-huggy sort of bloke- Neil and I got to know him well during the Scaffold years when he, Roger McGough and John Gorman were working around the same circuits as Neil. Later they and Neil ended up working together as Grimms with Andy Roberts and Viv Stanshall. Mike insisted on buying some CDs and stayed around at the end chatting to Tom and JJ while Neil signed CDs. Then its back to the only slightly seedy hotel on the tour – a Travelodge (motel) behind a Little Chef and a garage. But its clean, I think, and we are all too tired to care.

Neil’s thought for the day -
‘‘there are two kinds of people in the world, those who divide the world into two kinds of people and those who don’t and I’m one of them!’

Journey from Birkenhead to Bolton is not at all bad. A sunny day and all feel elated by the reception last night – sold about 38 new CDs and many T-shirts. We take turns driving, stopping for sandwiches, coffees etc.

It is Mother’s Day today in England but do not feel I can use that as an excuse to be spoilt again –had such a nice day yesterday – Tom and JJ refused to let us drive or carry anything as well as buying us treats and champagne. So today I drive and we get to the Holiday Inn Bolton around four pm having had a fruitless hunt for plectrums for Neil, drumsticks for JJ and rosin for Tom’s bow. The guy in the music shop recognises Neil – rings his brother – a huge fan- and gets Neil to speak to him. So by the time we get to the hotel we have half an hour before leaving again for the gig. Suddenly a huge bunch of flowers appears from behind the desk from Miles Luke and Barney. I am so touched – I always miss them badly at some point when we are away from home. I spend the next half hour running the batteries down on Neil’s phone chatting to them about the tour, their jobs, our grandchildren, life in general etc etc but retire happy. We have a difficult time finding the route to the gig with our no local map situation, courtesy of our agents, and various road diversions, courtesy of the local council, but eventually find The Albert halls. It is a monster of a building. JJ jumps out to ask where the stage door is and then gets straight back in the van and drives furiously round the back. We wonder why? Later he explains that the guy he spoke to said the entrance was round the back but you had to have a permit to park there and getting one of those would take a week. That is so obstructive and so typical of some Brits – we call them ‘jobsworths’ sitting around all day with nothing much to do except make life difficult with their list of rules which must be obeyed. Anyway JJ calms down and we begin to unload. Turns out the gig is on the third floor of this vast emporium and there is only a small lift up so it takes about six goes to get all of us and all the instruments up. The room itself is not large and has a low ceiling. There is an attempt at a night-club atmosphere with round tables and chairs, tablecloths etc. The sound is OK but when I question the sound guy about lighting he says – ‘I switch it on when they go on stage’. ‘But you will need to know which bits to light, when to dim etc etc’ I say, mustering as much authority as I can. ‘That would be nice’ he says ‘if we had lights. But here they are either off or on. That’s it.’ The manager gives me a bit of plastic on a chain and about three keys. ‘When you get to a door’, she explains, ‘you will see a red light. Put the plastic square on the light and the door will open. The keys are for the dressing rooms which you must lock every time you go out.’ Groan. It is all so complex that the band can not get back on stage for the second half because the door won’t open. The audience are about to start a slow handclap when the manager happens to look to the end of a long corridor to see the band helplessly gesticulating behind the door. She rushes down there with her little piece of plastic and releases them. But it is a good audience who really enjoy the show even though they have to climb at least three flights of stairs to get here. Many of them stay behind to get things signed or just to chat with the band.

And then it is down and up and down and up till all the gear is packed back in the van. The sound guy has been helpful and two or three give JJ a hand with the instruments. Nice to stand and chat in the cool night air. On the way back to the hotel we buy snacky things which we eat in the deserted bar area. We have a bottle of wine from the gig, plus beers and water. There is no service and the night manager keeps wandering in giving us nervous glances as though we might do something unexpected at any moment. I think he was freaked by Tom’s dreadlocks and by the fact that we were all very casually dressed, relaxed and happy. We eat and drink unable to take our eyes off the giant television showing pop videos and then leave after about an hour taking all our rubbish with us. The night manager rushes in half expecting upturned tables, smashed chairs, missing ashtrays etc etc He sees the table clear, the chairs upright and nothing missing and tersely bids us a very goodnight.

Message from Neil ‘History is littered…..’

Tom ‘Empathy can only be reciprocated’ - deeeeep

Yes, you’ve guessed it – by this time everyone is a little tired.

And on to Newark. We wonder what to do with the flowers. JJ suggests hanging them upside down so they will dry. Impractical to keep them in a jug of water. They add a little touch of femininity to what is fast becoming a male no-go area of blankets, beers, luggage, sweets and tobacco. An overcast day as we head down to the flatlands of Northamptonshire for the gig in Newark. This is fenland where the roads are higher than the surrounding fields -drained to make them agricultural. Fen land soil is dark brown and rich. We find the gig late having had difficulty finding the Travelodge. The roads are being resurfaced so every detour we take takes us frustratingly away from the motel which we can actually see. Eventually roll up to the gig to find the crew waiting at the door. All the gear is unpacked and set up in record time and the sound check is smoothly and professionally completed leaving Neil with time for forty winks. Slightly worried about his guitars. The ovation is still causing problems and the pick-up on the Taylor is misbehaving. Doesn’t seem to matter how many guitars he takes- it is never enough! To think Neil gigged for two months in the US last year with just the one guitar. He bought a piano he didn’t need as all the gigs had read the rider and provided one, but just one guitar. It was only when the guitar fell off the stand and detuned itself at B.B.Kings in New York that we realised how vunerable he was. The audience waited patiently as he tried to retune the guitar while telling one then two, then more of his short stories. Took ten minutes in the end. But Neil has nerves of iron and an endless supply of stories and the audience were brilliant. The only places I felt safe after that were gigs where there were guitar technicians or at places like McCabes in Los Angeles where there were not only technicians but a couple of hundred spare guitars as well.

Found out from the manager that only 28 had pre-booked but gradually about 120 people turn up. ‘They don’t like booking ahead in Newark’ says the manager ‘it happens with every show’. Some of Neil’s very loyal fans from years back come along, the first being Danny Barbour and his wife Janice. Danny runs a web site selling Neil’s CDs and he was instrumental in getting Recollections 1,2 and 3, off the ground. Samantha and Louise who ran the first fan club for Neil way back also turn up. As I set up the table at the various gigs I notice how many tribute bands are moving around the same circuits as Neil – Abbas, Stones, Creams, Jimi Hendrixes etc etc. Posters for Neil’s contemporaries – like Georgie Fame - always stress that they will be doing their old hit songs. Very difficult for someone like Neil who wants to move ahead in his writing but is always asked to do Bonzos, Python, Rutles etc etc. He does a lot of new songs in this show and has thankfully only had a few complaints about not doing enough of the old stuff. There was even one guy who said ‘Why does he seem to be afraid of doing Urban Spaceman.’!!!! He actually does do it, as an encore. A man who came with his wife, later told us that she had gone home feeling that it was like being at a club where she wasn’t a member. Obviously she knew nothing about the Bonzos or the Rutles so was surprised and isolated when the audience seemed to know all the words, understand all the references etc Wish she had been able to relax and enjoy it because the stories make it funny even if you have never heard of the bands. Thankfully most of the comments sent via e-mail are positive. After the gig Neil chats to Danny and the rest and then its back to the Travelodge.

A long drive ahead, so we stagger over to the Little Chef and squeeze ourselves behind one of the tables. Benches are screwed to the floor so can’t imagine what happens to those with a slightly fuller figure. The only thing I feel like is toast and coffee so Neil makes up for it by having the ‘full english’ - eggs, bacon, sausage and fried potatoes…and toast. Feels good going down south although have no idea what sort of reception the show will get. Down south they have a reputation for being less demonstrative, or is it the other way round ? The air is warm almost balmy and spirits lift. Drive to the sea front and look for the Madeira Cove Hotel.

The Sea Front

The name sounds ominous and we imagine a dark bar-like place with hammocks for beds but it turns out to be a rather nice B+B run by a lovely guy called Andrew. He has tattoos from an earlier life all over his arms and now he runs this hotel from which he gets little respite. We leave the bags and tumble out into the sunshine to look for the Palace Theatre.

We find the gig without too much trouble but it is a strange place. The theatre itself needs a lot of money spent on it. The seats are not raked so you have to hope that only a small person sits in front of you so you can get a clear view of the stage. Outside, in the bar however, money is being spent so this looked bright and cheerful, but The Playhouse is just one of the many theatres which is kept alive by a small group of hard working and dedicated people trying any way they can to raise money in the face of almost certain closure. This is one of the few places where I do not mind giving a percentage of the money I get from the merchandising.

Back in The Madeira Cove Hotel we creep into the upstairs lounge to share the wine and the few bags of crisps etc we have gleaned during the day.

Neil’s thought for the day ‘Mellow yellow. That’s Donovan. I borrowed his capot in Philadelphia!’

Toms ‘Shooting birds, With a gun, Is not much fun, If you’re a bird, Or a bird’s mum.’

Next morning we drive along the coast to Paignton which is always thought of as a respectable, rather snooty seaside town. In fact, it is the opposite. One of the main roads consists of slot machine arcades, novelty shops and charity shops plus the associated swathe of cheap and nasty food stores and loud cafes. We are looking for a present for JJ whose birthday is a few days away but it is almost impossible to get anything even vaguely funny without being vulgar or even just a good idea. We retire hurt to the hotel – one of the grandest. I go for a walk while Neil, Tom and JJ head over to the Pier Café having tried to get food at the hotel dedicated to making things easy for itself and difficult for it’s clients. The café turns out to be a winner. They have really good fish and chips and a sensational fruit sponge for dessert. None of the guys move again till we leave for the gig. The theatre is very similar to last night’s but with a great audience who sing along with the old songs and really appreciate and enjoy the new ones. At the end the grown-up children and wife of one of our greatest friends who died many years ago come and introduce themselves. Amazing to see them. Talking about Jim brings back even pre- Bonzo Dog memories. There actually was life before the Bonzos! Later we meet again in the hotel. Nell, Jim’s daughter, wants to interview Neil for her college magazine. The day staff are off duty and the night staff are quite happy to let us enjoy ourselves, providing drinks for as long as we ask for them. We finally call it a day and go up to our rooms overlooking the sea. A cool fresh breeze drifts in through the open window. We all sleep well.

This is one of those silly journeys when we have to go back up to the south Midlands to come down to the south coast again the day after. So with heavy hearts and a couple of heavy heads, we get into the van once more. Funny how there is never any argument over who is driving. Apart from trying not to let Neil do too much the three of us seem to take turns without thinking about it. Today no one particularly wants to drive and I feet like driving, so I get us out of Paignton using as many gears as we have and more as the van baulks at the hills. It is amazing on motorways – fast and smooth -but it really hates hills. To add to the problem, the gears are stiff in the morning, so I feel my way through them hoping that JJ isn’t listening and grinding his teeth in the back. We reach Tewkesbury around 1pm so there is lots of time to go shopping for those little essentials you can’t do without, like the bright yellow red and purple shellsuit bought by Tom at a charity shop. Neil sleeps all afternoon and then we find the gig, literally five hundred yards along the road. Notice again how run down things are. You can always tell when a village is in trouble by the number of charity and saver shops. Tewkesbury is a beautiful old town with a river and beamed cottages but when superstores are built outside these towns drawing all the trade, the shops can’t compete and close, and you are left with almost a ghost town. Our hotel is a few hundred years old with mullioned windows and low beams. Neil and I are again at the top up three flights of stairs, through fire doors etc etc but the room is lovely once you get there.

Anyway, arrive at the theatre where a super efficient team have been waiting since 2pm – an early soundcheck our agency hadn’t told us about. The atmosphere was a bit tense as we walked in - not helped by me pushing one of Neil’s large cases across the black floor. Steve the head guy barked at me saying he would have to paint the whole stage again. I apologised but crept away to do some sorting out in the dressing room. Much later Steve bought me a drink and said that he always barked at people. It was his way. It was what he did and the two bar attendants nodded frenzied agreement. Clearly not a man to cross. But soooo efficient. His team worked beautifully and the sound and lighting was the best it has been. The theatre is modern and my table is set up by the entrance. There have been a lot of pre-sales so I think the merchandise sales will go well. However it becomes apparent that some of the audience have come on spec.- not knowing what Neil does. So not only do they not buy anything, but they also ignore me when I try to tell them about the CDs etc. The audience is slightly responsive but mainly reserved though many stay to meet Neil afterwards but in spite of the brilliant crew it was not a gig to remember. By now into the tenth back-to-back gig Neil is exhausted. There is nowhere to sit and chat back at the hotel so we say goodnight to Tom and JJ and sleep.

Arrive at Worthing early. In sea-front hotel by 1pm and then in room overlooking sea by half-past.  Because of the financial stringencies of the tour we always expect to be overlooking the dustbins, but Roadrunner can work fiscal wonders.

A room with a view!

So with a sea view and a four poster bed we unpack everything over the floor, open the window wide., turn the heating off and go out for lunch.  Neil finds a small Italian bistro and has a fantastic lunch of mozzarella, tomatoes, olives, followed by well-cooked lamb etc etc.  Assuming we would have the same luck with restaurants in Worthing as we had had elsewhere ie. if you actually find one that looks promising it is shut -  I go to get vital bits of this and that - jewelry, shoes and hats etc - and miss lunch.  I find that the shops are actually rather good and when I rejoin Neil we find, at last, a present for J.J.   It’s a clock with a large rounded blue base and one extended eye.  It’s name is Knobby and if you ask Knobby a question it will answer you. Useful when you need to know the time in the dark!!!  After this there is nothing to do but go back for quick bit of shut -eye.  We set out for the Pavilion around 5 pm to find  they have been expecting us since 2pm so there is a slight ‘atmosphere’ as we manhandle the gear out of the van. 

The inside of the cavernous Pavilion at Worthing

The Pavilion is a great barn of a place, all glass and peeling paintwork and right on the sea front at the start of the pier – so typically English that I cant think why I don’t take a photograph of it.  But there you are.  I think about it often but by the time I go out to take the photo it is too dark. The next day the same thought swims across my brain as we pass the building on our way to Kings Lynn.  Anyway back to the present. Taking a while to set up because the place is so big – the sound guys have quite a job to get it right but they know what they are doing.  Wondering how many it will take to make the place seem even half full.  Tom’s parents come to the show and then two long lost relatives of mine Jenny and Fred – on my father’s side.  It does get quite lonely on the road – Neil used to tell me this, but now after the last year, I know.  You miss your family, your friends, a familiar environment, decent food and although we meet so many lovely people, there is never enough time to chat to them. Neil has a zizz after soundcheck and in a couple of hours there are enough people to make the place seem over half full.  They are really enthusiastic bringing just about everything Neil has ever recorded to be signed after the show.  They join in, clap, sing and laugh so long and loud that you get the impression the place is full to bursting.  It’s a great evening and we sell a lot of CDs.  But Neil is bushed.  Tonight there is no sitting up late story-telling etc, for us anyway.  The younger element on the tour always stay up late – and misses breakfast –which, I should stress, has already been paid for.  I don’t know what it’s all coming to!

Neils thought for the day –‘ We are like Russian dolls.  Inside each of us there is a baby, a toddler, a child, a teenager, a binge drinker……. and in my case a sex god and a pompous old git.’

JJs thought for the day  ‘I just like being here and now’

Toms poem – Monosyllabicisms’    ‘If you write for the Sun,  Make sure all your words are one,  Syll.’

It’s a Saturday so it must be Kings Lynn – quite a hike from Worthing. Not in American terms, but over here we think an hours driving should have got us to where we want to go and if it hasn’t, well, maybe we don’t want to go there! But we must go, so we set out around 10amand ease ourselves back onto the motorway. Kings Lynn is in Fen country, which those of you who have been paying attention will know to be definitely the flat lands. It would be boring but for the fact that the fields are so far below the road that you have a lorry drivers view of the surrounding land. Reminds me of going across the Prairies in Colorado last year. Neil and I stopped at a trucker’s café for tea and toast. The seats were all arranged in a horse- shoe shape around the counter. We both noticed at the same time that the trucker opposite, who was no small effeminate guy, was wearing bright red nail varnish. He was with a group of truckers talking about this and that. The waitress tried to ignore him but in the end had to ask. He said he wore the nail varnish to protect his nails – and his pals didn’t bat an eyelid. I love that sort of thing. You have to be quite courageous to go against what is generally considered to be acceptable. Most of us are so ‘the meek shall inherit the earth – if that’s ok with everyone?’

Get to Kings Lynn where I have to do a difficult bit of backing the van into a very tight courtyard. Can feel JJ’s eyes on my back as I inch past concrete bollards and brick walls but all OK and we find ourselves in a tiny courtyard where the crew are waiting to unload the instruments.

  JJ gives thanks

This gig is an Arts Centre which is a place where many different activities go on  - drama groups,  talks,  films and shows like Neil’s – well nothing is quite like Neil’s – but similar one man/woman performances.  It is a long and narrow hall in a very ancient building with beautiful roof beams dating back from the 15^th century.  The seats are covered in a dark red velvet . 

The rider is provided when we get there -the sound guys are good and things are organised and set up quickly. JJ’s wife Tes is coming to see the show tonight with her brother and some friends. JJ has to do some intense meditation on the roof of the van to calm himself down. For the rest of us it is a normal gig except that after the show we meet Karou, a Japanese girl who had been translating Neils lyrics from the new CD into Japanese for sale in Japan.

Tonight we drive home. We take tired turns stopping in a garage for sustenance. When we finally get home and bed beckons we say ‘to hell with that’ and stay up till four…….so pleased to be here and now , as JJ says, with a stint in bed the only thing to do for the next few hours.

Neils thought for the day ‘It’s not the dumbing down on TV that irritates me, it’s the absolute absence of any wising up’

Tom’s poem - A Wasp’s Life. ‘When on the wing, I like to sting, Anything, Moving’

A day off!!! Neil needs to sleep but I need to answer emails, send off CDs, collect more black T- shirts in big sizes – extra large is definitely the most popular size – and phone the kids. Barney promises to come to see us with his wife Kate and his two children –Max and Isabella – the first girl in the Innes family for years.

The Civic Hall, Bedworth. The less said about this the better. Suffice to say it is a Monday evening, in a large hall where the first 20 rows are on level ground, then better seats raked to the back. So the audience fills the first two rows, then chooses the raked seats to get a better view. However once again, they make enough noise to make it seem like there are twice the number there actually are. Another one for the agency to mull over . We never feel like going out to see anything on a Monday so why should other people. Amazed we get the size of audience we do get. Nice crew, one of whom drives in front of us to show us how to get to the hotel in Hinkley. The hotel makes up for the gig and it is JJs birthday.

Neil in the foyer

Wednesday dawns and we are off to Horsham. The Capital Theatre is almost in the middle of the town and we are told to look for a large glass box which was added to the original cinema a few years ago. There is a well designed foyer and bar area and a really good merchandising space. Good light clean dressing rooms and the rider has been laid out ready with a flask of coffee and tea, beers, water and the bottle of red wine. Can’t tell you the difference it makes when those few things provided without having to ask. Theatres which don’t bother to provide things like that are making the same mistake as performers who simply leave the theatre quickly after doing the show, instead of staying to talk with any of the audience who chose to wait behind to see them. It creates bad feelings. But here at the Capital the crew and the manager – Michael -are helpful, friendly and efficient. Nothing is too much trouble and I am not asked for a percentage of the merchandising. After Bedworth we are slightly apprehensive about numbers but we find out there are about 200 pre-bookings and more are expected to turn up. The guys work through the sound check and then rehearse a few numbers. It sounds good and later during the show their playing is impressive. Neil comes onto the stage alone at the beginning with his Little Ukele to sing the old George Formby song. Then come stories and songs from the Bonzo days. Then the Crystal Balls we know and love and by this time the audience always join in with gusto. As he begins the old English ditty ‘Brave Sir Robin,’ Tom and JJ appear as minstrels from the wings, JJ with a tambourine and Tom with a recorder. The band launch into Silver Surfer followed by a simple love song beautifully played. Tom’s input is fantastic. Sometimes it’s nice just to listen to his playing. Great for Neil to have JJ and Tom with him. After ‘Cats’ Neil goes into ‘Never alone’. Then ‘All Alone’ with the ukele and this is where you can really appreciate the music they make together. Each instrument perfectly compliments the other. Next ‘Ego Warrior’ really hits the spot. Everyone is fed up with what is happening today and with their seeming inability to change it. The Ego Warrior oath is repeated with relish.

‘I solemnly swear
To defend self-esteem
Wherever it may be
And never to repeat
Anything I am told
By anyone posing as an authority figure
So help me Rhonda
Help, help me Rhonda
Ooooo-ooh
I will stamp my little foot’

After this there is the ‘Philosophers Song’ and people pour out wanting Ego Warrior T –shirts and buttons. Running out of large sizes fast. At various times during the first half ‘Rory Motion and the Drainpipes’ put in an appearance wih their sponsorship adverts for among other things ‘Cock-a-Doodle Tato’ and ‘New 4 in 1– it’s a toothbrush, a toilet cleaner, a car polish and a dandruff shampoo…’ Tonight he gets it wrong –‘a toothpaste, a toilet cleaner a car shampoo and a dandruff polish’!!!!

After the interval Neil walks on stage alone for ‘Idiot’ which begins with a lot of bubble blowing, then some stories about incidents with the Pythons. JJ and Tom join Neil on stage for ‘Charlie Big Potaotoes’, an everyday story about being too big for one’s boots. He goes straight into’ Evening Sun’ without any chat or preamble, as much to cut a few minutes out of the second half which is overrunning, as to see if he needs to explain the song. Somehow it seems to work just as well – although I have to say I like the story about the poet John Cooper-Clarke’s comment on Haiku - ‘Expressing yourself in seventeen syllables is very diffic.’ After this the ever popular Rutles Medley with Tom playing the bass like a cello on ‘Another Day’. ‘At The End of the Line’ always gets a huge applause. Godfrey Daniel leads straight into the last three songs – TV. ‘One of Those People’ and ‘Hero’ and the three musicians really get a chance to show what they can do. Their playing is electric and causes an explosion of applause after ‘Hero’. ‘Urban Spaceman’ and ‘Back in ‘64’ completes the show and then within five minutes Neil changes, has a quick glass of wine and comes into the foyer to sign CDs, at which point I clear away all the merchandise and go back to pack away Neil’s guitars, amps, leads and props etc. Finally, after the last people have gone, Neil gets a chance to collapse – which is why a sofa is a good idea in the dressing room. Many theatres have Green Rooms with easy chairs but better to have one in the dressing room as well.

Neil’s thought for the day – ‘Well if you have to have dandruff it might as well look polished’.

Tom’s poem – Artisan/Call to Faith – ‘Creator, No ‘why’, Only action, Feel the urge, Refuse distraction, Know why, Later.’

It is quite fortunate we actually get to this gig. The agents have given us the 19th instead of the 17th and it was only because of a phone call from Danny, having himself been alerted by a fan who lived in Camberley that there was confusion about the dates, that we checked and found out the correct date. It is quite close to Horsham so not sure what size audience we will get but pleased to see at least 200+. The theatre is a lovely old theatre with ornate wall decorations and raked seats. It is owned, as are most of the theatres on this tour, by local councils. A harassed looking manager informs me of commission etc. Come home from here because Neil has to get to London for a series of interviews for American radio on the 19th so straight to bed for him when we finally get home. He manages a few hours sleep before getting on the train for London. It is very jolly but Neil is slightly disappointed to find they have come all the way to London to do their usual ‘Drive time live’ programme so there is no chance to discuss anything in depth. Which prompts me to ask -Is there anything discussed in depth on American Radio? Apart from right wing religious programmes discussing in depth global issues like ‘should a woman stay at home while her husband goes to work’. Quite frightened us when we travelled across America to hear the biased brainwashing that goes on. I suppose people can choose to listen or choose not to, but did we miss good old Radio 4!!

Brainwashing of a dietary kind ? US 2004

Neil’s thought for the day ‘One man’s polymath is another man’s scatterbrain’.

Tom’s poem Religion - ‘Eternal, Internal, Infernal.’

On Sunday we drive to The Stables at Milton Keynes. Everyone is looking forward to this gig. The Stables was built and funded initially by Cleo Laine and Johnny Dankworth and is a great place to play. Everything is there for the musicians including an excellent sound and lighting crew, many of whom are volunteers. There are drinks and sandwiches in the dressing rooms as well as easy chairs. No smoking anywhere however so it’s back to the van for the guys.

A fan and filmmaker David Read has been asking if he can film at a gig and as we would like to make a DVD of part of Neil’s performance for promotional purposes, we thought this might be the best place. A lot of fans seem to think that they can just turn up at any theatre and film, but it is not as easy as that. Most theatres do not allow filming of any kind and even here we had to persuade them to allow us to do so by signing a form saying that the film would only be used for promotion, and that if it was ever found to be for

general distribution we would have to pay a minimum of £300. The same goes for photography. There was an in-house photographer who we allowed to photograph Neil providing he used no flash and kept out of the way of the

audience. Again this photograph was for the theatre – Hall of Fame sort of thing. Anyway David turned up early with his crew- Steve and Chris and sorted out where they would position themselves with the technical crew.

By the end of the evening they are confident they have got the footage they want and will get a sample to us before Easter. It was a pleasure to meet them and we are really looking forward to the film.

Redhill

Did anyone notice the deliberate mistake from entry on 16th march? ‘TV’ is actually meant to read ‘Eye Candy’. A slip of the brain I’m afraid. A prize of self-congratulation to all those who noticed.

So, to Redhill. Setting off in a merry mood and arriving at The Harlequin Theatre after going round the same roundabout many times, each spotting the ‘right’ way to go. In the end, I keep circling till they sort it out. Crew ready and waiting and all cases and personnel are pulled into an enormous lift. Nice theatre which turns out to be in the middle of a shopping centre so cough-sweets, vitamin drinks, fruits and nuts for later are bought with wild abandon. Lots of guests tonight. My sister, Maggie, and a friend come first – then John Dowie – a poet with whom Neil has shared many a lost evening and many a hilarious gig. He is a tall thin and very self- effacing poet who has written amongst many other works, a poem/play called ‘Dogman’ for children of all ages. This is now an audio CD read by Phil Jupitus – a popular English comedian- with Nel’s music. It is good to see John. The gig goes well – it is fabulous to be there when the audience come out after the first half. Having been initiated into the Ego Warrior clan -they rush to buy the T-shirt and the button. There are two young teenagers here tonight – I give them a badge but after the first half they buy the new CD and then are first in the queue to chat to Neil. This is amazing – can only think they have been subjected to endless and inadvertent brainwashing by their parents. The crew are with us till the last case is loaded then it’s back to The Thistle Hotel at Gatwick for the night. Here we are able to sit in the bar till the early hours. I put all the food we have – two sandwiches, bags of crisps, apples, bars of this and that and a prawn salad – onto the table but it remains untouched and in the end is thrown away as one by one we slide up the wooden hill to dreamland.

Neil’s thought for the day : ‘only with our eyes do we understand’

Tom’s poem – Proud Fall. ‘ Importance, Portents, Impotence’

Southend-On-Sea

Woke next day to find the van hemmed in. Luckily the car which is doing the damage can be bumped away and we finally get on the road about 12pm.

An easy ride and we get to Southend with enough time to get to the sea and have lunch – a luxury on a tour like this. The guys picked the sea-front café with the prettiest line in fronds and frills. There follows a series of photos which speak for themselves!

Neil and I pass on the desserts and much later JJ and Tom wish they had passed on them too. Then a wander on the beach.

Still with an hour to spare before sound check so we look for some fun and find it courtesy of Crazy Golf.

We get completely carried away and go round again to the accompaniment of recorded crickets, lions, elephants and assorted jungle noises. Five o’clock and late for the sound-check. We jump into the van and drive at break-neck speed to the gig at the Palace Theatre. Another old but lovely space, definitely in danger of closing but with a huge list of supporters. This is another theatre where the rider has been crossed out , but the manager is a good guy and has coffee and drinks up in the dressing room within minutes. The crew manage to get a decent sound. The stage is slightly worrying in that it slopes downwards towards the audience so the plectrums and capots slide off the piano. JJ puts some double-sided tape on the piano and sticks the bits to it, which makes it slightly more difficult when he needs to use them, but as usual he manages to talk his way through things. There are many avid collectors of all things ‘Neil’ here – so good to speak to these people, they are so committed to fairplay and to seeing that Neil finally gets his fair dues re. the Rutles etc. If it was left to them there would be no problem, but unfortunately it is left to unmusical lawyers and people who spend their lives making sure they are OK and to hell with the artists. Moan over, only I won’t rest till Neil is victorious, and these gigs make me realise the huge amount of support he has.

Tonight there is no small hop to the hotel and bed. We have to be in Rhyl (North Wales) tomorrow night so we drive about 150 miles to Northampton stopping in some remote services for coffee and cream cake – although I have to say – Neil is a changed man since he watched ‘Supersize Me’. He has a small piece of apple cake and eats it slowly. In the van JJ puts on the CD of the ‘Concert for George’ and we are all silenced by the sheer beauty of the melodies and the love for George in the playing. As we pull into the Express by Holiday Inn, Ringo sings ‘Photograph’ and all we can do is dance, as much as the van will allow, with disco lights provided by Tom’s mobile.

We sit in the bar quite close to a formally dressed group of guys and gals. We chat and sip and suddenly Tom, who is facing the group, goes silent. We look round and are faced with several bare bottoms as these ‘business men’ let their hair down and moon for the girls each letting his trousers drop more than the next. We are dumbstruck. These are exactly the sort of people who will mutter unfriendly things when nice Tom with the dreadlocks wanders by. People who put up a pretence of sophistication but underneath are really with the apes – no, that is doing a disservice to the apes. But don’t get me wrong, I have nothing in principle against mooning, and we really ache from laughing. Night night.

Neil’s thought for the day ‘You can lead a horse to water, but then what?’

Tom’s poem – Hope. ‘I hope you think about me, When you have your tea, Or maybe, While having a pee. If you think about me, The, Way I think of you that would be, Complimentary.’

Rhyl

The journey to Rhyl takes longer than expected and we arrive around 5pm. The sound guy has already been in touch to find out what we need in the way of mikes etc so we anticipate nice and well- managed gig. The outside of the venue is nothing if not completely depressing, although you can go round to the sea-ward side and look across the acres of beach and pretend the pavilion isn’t really there.

But it is, and inside it is not quite as bad as it looks. Massive though – the wrong sort of place for Neil – more the venue for a showband or a ballet. The hugest stage area I have ever seen. The manager is a nice friendly guy who watches the show right the way through and enjoys it even when the guitar cuts out in ‘Urban Spaceman’ – but as the sound guy points out ‘it was ok, the bass and drums were still there!!’. The monitors are all over the place as Tom keeps trying to point out, by gesticulating wildly to the desk. But the beautifully unflappable sound guy says later ‘it sounded all right to me,’ so that’s ok then. To give him his due he does say that the desk is the problem, so hopefully he will have fixed it before the next solo performer visits. There is a very small but very keen audience who chat and buy CDs but as we pack and stow the instruments, only the two teenagers on work experience from school actually help. The rest all appear again magically when the van is packed, so we tip the school kids and drive off into the night and to the Springfields hotel.

At nearly every gig we have had brilliant crews who help in every way, lifting and carrying till the last piece of luggage is stowed away in the van. As I have mentioned before, the performers, whoever they are, have usually travelled many miles to do the gig. They wind themselves up to give as good a performance as possible and then really need to wind down slowly after it. Back in the Bonzo days we had a brilliant roadie called Fred who would not let anyone else touch the instruments. He used to do all the driving and was able to get absolutely anything anyone wanted at any time of the day or night. We miss him deeply, but these days few can afford the luxury of a roadie, so when the crew stay behind to help it is really really appreciated.

At the Springfields Hotel there is no locking of the swimming pool at 10pm. This is unusual for England where swimming pools everywhere are closed after ten ‘for your own safety!!!’ The night porter has already switched on the sauna so we swim and bask till we are ready for a bottle or two of bubbly. JJ and Tom stay up till the wee small hours but Neil and I are finished by about 1am.

Neil’s thought for the day : ‘Britain is a tiny island where half the people are introspective and xenophobic whereas America is quite the reverse.’

Tom’s poem -Body ‘ My hair is a canvas, My skin is a page, My body a temple, That I wage, War on.’

I think the journey back from Rhyl deserves a page to itself – more for the photographs than anything else. About half-way through the journey we stop for a stretch and a bite to eat. The café is completely full – everyone is on the roads at Easter- so we sit in the garage shop area. Neil notices the rabbit ears and JJ buys them.

Drive to Ipswich where we drop Tom off and then head for home and four days r+r.

Neil’s thought for the day ‘I don’t understand women. Why do they buy those tiny knickers when they can get much bigger ones for the same money?’

Tom’s poem-Oral Hygiene –‘Toothbrushes as they are properly known, Are very rarely lent on loan.’

Shrewsbury

Nearing the end of the tour and a van full of left-over chocolate rabbits and ducks. We leave home at half-twelve stopping to pick Tom and double bass up at Ipswich Station, giving ourselves very little time to get to Shrewsbury, which is north-west of Birmingham. We try phoning, but again only have the box office number, so we leave a message and hope it will get through. Shrewsbury is a lovely English town with a large river running through it’s centre. We arrive about 5.30 and the crew is waiting for us. They are so efficient and organised, that things are set up quickly and a hitchless sound-check ensues. The rider is already in the dressing room. No time to check in at hotel so phone them in case we get locked out. A large and appreciative audience fill the seats and to our great delight John Gorman and his wife Sue turn up. John is a very old friend from The Scaffold days still as cheerful and witty as he was then. His scouser accent completely intact although he has lived away from Liverpool for many years – first in Suffolk, then a spell in France and now in Bridgenorth, near Shrewsbury. He and Sue are secretly contemplating a move back to Birkenhead so he will have gone full-circle. (but don’t tell anyone about that – it’s meant to be a secret).

Back to the Lion hotel to find we’re locked out! Luckily there’s a side door so we go in and find a sour receptionist – you know the sort. They look you up and down and make you feel like an utter nuisance before you have even checked in. But we do find a helpful waiter who directs two bottles of the best red our way plus an assortment of crisps and Pringles to which we add our chocolate ducks, apples etc etc. This is another of those really Olde English places, with beams 2 foot thick. Later we creep noisily up to our rooms, every footstep starting up a chorus of creaks and groans designed to wake the heaviest sleeper.

Neils thought for the day: ‘Oligopolies sing in perfect hegemony.’

Tom’s Poem Space. ‘Space to fill, So I will, Reasoning nil.’

Cheltenham

And so to the final gig in the Town Hall at Cheltenham. We are expecting a huge echoey experience but the hall is quite modest, holding about 200 people. Tiny sound desk and very little lighting, but the guy who does it all is really good at his job, so for the last gig we have really good sound.

Cups of teas, beers etc ready and waiting. A bit of time between the sound check and performance so Tom makes music in the dressing room.

The audience are one of the best. Their enthusiasm fills the hall – there is a fabulous ‘cockerel’ imitator. Neil asks for help from the audience in one of the ‘adverts’ and gets what is probably the best farmyard sound to date. There is a big crowd to meet Neil afterwards including one of our neighbours from way back when we lived near London (28 years) - and we still recognised each other. Also waiting is Bob Carruthers who is making Bonzo DVD and will be conducting a filmed interview with Neil at the hotel tomorrow. We seem to take an age to leave tonight, maybe because it is the last gig. Eventually we make it to the Thistle Hotel which is spacious and geared up for late night revelry.

Although, I have to say, the revelry doesn’t last long in spite of the champers and food. Neil has the interview early next day and JJ has booked himself in for a total body massage at the same time with the proviso that he is not asked to drive for a few hours after.

Neil’s thought for the day, ‘Human consciousness is probably the last true wilderness on the planet.’

Tom’s poem -Olde Worldy- ‘Extrah lletterrs inn werrds, Mayke them beautiffull.’

Today we leave Cheltenham around 12pm and are home around 7pm having dropped Tom with his double bass and all his gear at his home in West Hampstead. Our house feels empty and unloved and it is not likely to see any kind of tender loving care till we are back from the US.

Saturday and Sunday – 2nd and 3rd of April - Neil has promised to be at Abbey Road Studios for the film festival. He plays ‘I must be in Love’ and ‘Back in ’64’ on Saturday before we all watch ‘A Hards Day’s Night’, the Beatles first film, which has the flimsiest excuse for a plot I have ever seen- actually no, I had seen some pretty flimsy ones in the Elvis movies way before that. On Sunday Neil tells the Bonzo story about Abbey Road and sings ‘Cheese and Onions’ playing, he says, the best piano he has ever had the good fortune to encounter. It does sound amazing. Afterwards ‘Yellow Submarine’ is shown, which I don’t think is a patch on the Rutles version (very biased of me.) However it is edifying to hear how Yellow Submarine was made. It had a premier date before it had even been started. There were no computers in those days so every single cell was hand drawn. Neil and I remember this well because a large part of Goldsmiths, the Art School we were at, was involved. The Beatles were not particularly keen on the project, which had been decided on a few years before. So it was an uphill task for the director and producer to initiate interest and to keep the project going.

Roger McGough, another very old friend, was at Abbey Road on Sunday with his wife Hilary. Strange, but very nice coincidence to have met each of The Scaffold on this tour. It turns out that Roger wrote some of the funny bits of dialogue for Yellow Submarine. Every time we meet we discuss the possibility of Neil and Roger working together as they did in Grimms. Neil’s words and music and Roger’s poetry compliment each other perfectly. It is just a question of dates. When Neil can make it, Roger can’t and vice versa. It will happen someday- apart from anything else, they look good together!

So now it’s all rush to get things washed and sorted before we head for New

Jersey, and then to New York. And we will be bringing T-shirts, buttons and the new CD to sell at the Fest For Beatle Fans. [Is that 2 words or 1?]

Thanks to all of you who have been reading this road-diary. Many people said they enjoyed it, and I enjoyed recording the ups and downs. The only difficult bit has been trying to extract ‘thoughts for the day’ from Neil Tom and JJ. In the end it was easier to use poems from Tom’s book for his ‘thoughts’ which, of course, they are. JJ’s every thought was to create ‘the beautiful thing’ around him –being the group’s ambassador, making everyone from receptionists to sound crews to guys and gals who worked in the many services we stopped at, feel good. So he was excused from having to put this ‘beautiful thing’ into words.

So now it’s bye- bye from me and Tom and JJ and a special ‘au revoir’ from Neil

“Why is it whenever I go to France I get déjà vu?”

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