Day 4: Preston via (Song for my) Cirencester

26th February 2012

Bob: Today I’m in the car and we almost immediately get lost. I am navigating after all. There was not meant to be an airfield on the route.

So we decide to head to Cirencester because the Americans think it sounds funny. Preston can wait. It’s a nice day. We get to Cirencester and, hey,  some of the buildings are over fifty years old so Tunabunny love it. We find a quaint English pound shop and go on a spree. Armed with hilarious props we tease the other vehicle with photos of just how much fun we are having.

We arrive in Preston in reasonable time but I soon realise that I’m a coat and a camera lighter than I was when we set out this morning. It turns out the coat and camera are at a service station near Stafford. That’s so far off route it spins the brain so we hatch  a plan to pick it up on the morning of day 9. That’s a long way off and, unseasonably mild though it is, it’s still fucking February. I need a jacket.

Andy walks in to a hero’s welcome. We will have our drummer playing tonight. And yay, we have a sit down meal! And we get to stay in rooms above the venue. Things are looking up. Thank you Andy. Thank you Rico the promoter. Thank you guy at Stafford Moto Services.

We party ‘til the early hours. No one is really sure of the exact time, which means we all pretend it’s much later than it is. Steph is singing M People songs for some reason. We make up some terrible jokes which have us in stitches. Can’t wait to share them with our audience…

Helen: Rico the promoter is a hero and treats us like royalty and Andy is back and the show is tonnes of fun, and then after the show I lie on a bed and emote at Russell  for a bit, and then decide to fall asleep in the Shrag room whiile the rest of my band  go and bond with Tunabunny in the Tunabunny room until the early hours.  I’m the only one who doesn’t. Loser.