Coo kooks ca choo
“How you with a 14 Meter?” Asks Tim
“Driven a couple”
“Good get to Phoenix. Pick up 54, up to Liverpool, pick the band up to Glasgow. You’ll need to get up there a day early to get an 11 hour break in.”
As I live in Stafford, that’s quite near Liverpool I opted for a night in my own bed.
Of course it’s a bank holiday weekend that I’m working over as standard.
Pick the bus up, not driven one of these before, it’s ace drives itself virtually. And for such so long motor it goes round tight corners great. Better than the shorter buses and that doesn’t make sense.
So off up to Sunny Stafford. Dick about with the sound system. DAB Teamrock it is woo hoo!!
It’s the simple things in life that make all the difference.
Park outside the gym and home for curry n wine, Fannytastic.
Day off means make the beds. Realise Lloyd who drove the bus last had cleared just about everything.hing out of it. Ahhhh! Bollox so I called him up.
“Hello bonnie lad how you doing” (he’s a Geordie)
“Good mate, I’ve got your old bus and can’t find ‘I reel off a list of things’
“Oh I didn’t realise you were taking it over, I’d’ve left more stuff on it for you!”
“Ah it’s OK I’ll buy what I need, just checking you’ve not got stuff hidden?”
“Well there is this panel I had put in, and this is stored there and here’s a handy hidey hole where you’ll find……….”
Cooel. Got my stuff did and then headed off to the Pool to pick up the guys.
The hotel they were in is opposite the Philharmonic theatre.
There’s no where to park and the Philly has a show on and the street is cordoned off. The Redburn driver comes over to me and we know each other so I ask if I can park in front of him. I’m leaving way before he does.
“Yeah mate if you can get down the road?”
“No worries can you just watch my arse as I back in”
Ooh fuckin err Matron
Get parked up the TM co
Media over to say hello.
“The guys are in town getting food, then going to a bar to watch the match,”
“No problem mate I’m parked and happy.”
The guys all pile back on the bus for an 11PM leave. I suggest we hang about for a bit, the Philly has just tipped out, there’s old folk everywhere and taxis driving about in typical taxi style.
Eventually we set off for sunny Glasgow.
Get to the ABC our truck is in the bay in front of where I need to park. I slide into the parking bay to much honking from indignant taxi drivers, flashing their light sang getting rather cross. Not that I care much. You do have to park in what they’ve claimed to be their pick up spot.
The trickiest come down and introduce themselves I ask them if they can park in front of me in the same bay. If you don’t someone will park a car there and I won’t be able to get out.
After some shenanigans involving irate taxi drivers, Some busy body pretend copper, 2 cars full of real coppers and a couple of drunken girls. I thought the boys were doing it for my entertainment as it did keep me entertained for an hour, wondering what the fuck was going on. I drew my curtains and went to sleep.
“Ahm on mah way!”
Said Brad I was meeting him fer a swallee and some food.
Off to sleazys for a Strongbow then down the road to spoons for another and some food. Had a good afternoon just talking shite, then back to bed.
Woke up a quick spruce of the bus and back to bed.
Up again when everyone started piling onto the bus.
“We’ll leave midnight if that’s OK with you?” Said Simon the TM.
I pop over to Subway across the road for a journey sandwich. Then at midnight we’re away back off down to Manchester.
YAYYYYYYY!!! Ritzys Manchestooooooooor. I Messaged Sarah Newton from SJM to see if she was in Manc and fancied a curry in East z East.
“I’ll see you about 12:30 we’ll have to go somewhere else both East z East are closed now until 5pm. Booooooo!!!
We went to Akbars I think. Which was pretty good to be honest.
Walked into the venue and all the old Academy crew were working there. Was good to catch up with those guys. I watched some of the show then went back to bed.
When I woke up I got a coffee and frozen yoghurt, with a mix of froot loops and crystallised ginger topping.
Sunny London tomorrow.
Electric Ballroom the gig of many a parking ticket.
With added roadworks that have taken up 1/2 the road fuckin brilliant.
I’ve got to park outside of the venue to get power, so i evaluated the situation.
By that I mean I pulled up got out used all my skills and realised thee was no way the busy Cuntish town bus route would be free if I stayed where I was.. I’ll plonk it on the footpath. The path at this point is quite wide so there’s no restricting people getting past.
Park up and sleep. The truck pulls up I suggest they load through the alley as I can’t move, and the truck would be stopping all the traffic if it parked behind me anyway. Due to the fact there’s a bus stop and a lamp post in the way.
Truckie went around the block a couple of times before doing what I suggested.
Graham Lambert from SJM was our promoters rep on the tour. He’s the guitarist in Inspiral carpets. We’ve done a fair bit of work together and I spent a large part of the afternoon talking about bands and general music shit.
Funny how it seems all bands suffer with the same personnel hassles.
Morat was over from LA with his lovely wife Mitzumi. And had put out on face book he was in the Crowbar for drinks. I went over to see him I’ve not seen him for about 20 years was great, he’s going to meet Me n Nico when we get to LA at the end of our road trip which is cool.
He’d got copies of his book The Road To Ferro City.
I’d read a bit of it on my Kindle and said I recognised a few of the descriptions from the Isle Of Man. From when we were over there for the TT.
I spent a couple of hours with him, Mazuimi and the Exploited’s, singers brother.
Of course I had the obligatory Camden parking ticket when I got back CUNTS!!
We’ve got the delights of sunny Birmingham tomorrow and the Institute. I like it there I like the pub next door the Big Bull.
My boss Tim was out driving a band who were in the small room he said he’d meet me there for food and a wee swallee.
The truck driver was already parked when I got there. I could head some hard house music blaring from his truck and his disco lights were flashing away in his windscreen.
He watched me back in as there’s a couple of real nastily positioned flood lights that would take your windows out if you weren’t careful. They light the yard up great but unfortunately blind you when you’re manoeuvring.
And so to bed.
When I wake up Tim is parked over the road with his bus and trailer. I go over and suggest the Big bull for a Guinness. We spend a few hours in there being entertained by the local piss head, the truckie joins us as well. I tell Tim the pub can get a bit rowdy and the characters are interesting.
I was telling the
Simon the TM that at least now it didn’t matter what accent you had to drink in there.
He mistook this remark for racism which it took me a while to get what he’d said as I was concentrating on getting out of the road which I was going out of the wrong way. It is a one way street.
I explained that in the 70’s early 80’s you didn’t go into a few boozers in Digbeth unless you had an Irish accent, unless you wanted to leave via the exit window. There still is a very strong Irish presence in the area, and since Red Stripe is now brewed in Burton and not imported from Jamaica, and I drink more of the stout I tend to feel safe drinking there, knowing I’m an bald Irish Rastafarian Scouser from the Black Country near Glasgow.
And with that it’s back to London for the drop off.
I’d missed the NABD Bike rally which I’d bought a ticket. Alison who keeps my bike in her garage went in my place. She said it was good but her garage stank of petrol and there was a pool of it under my bike again.
Fuckin Shit. It’s booked into the Garage on Wednesday then I’m off to get the bus again Thursday.