Yesterday we were in York and had an afternoon for more Shrag Tourist Guide to Britain. Tunabunny had somehow missed our excursion to Preston Bus Station. But surely a Minster and a castle would be more tempting. I was looking forward to watching Americans look at old stuff but strangely, they had managed to lose us. Again.
We spot Scott Bunny in a cafe. His hair is an exclamation mark, pointing upwards in times of stress. He points to his ham and day-glo orange cheese baguette and exclaims incredulously: “only two pounds!”
His hair is flatter now and I think this means he is happy. The glow-in-the- dark cheese and ham baguette makes me realise that maybe six days in the UK with Shrag have taken their toll on Tunabunny.
After six days of Travelodges and rock venues what the Americans really needed wasn’t a tour of ye olde York-e. They needed any one of the following to happen to be happy:
To find a breakfast or lunch in the UK that didn’t cost a week’s wages; a shower that worked; a toilet with toilet paper; a town with helpful street signage; a British band with a driver; more than one member of Shrag who can navigate (we are divided between two vehicles for the tour).
So it was the British contingent that went off to point at old stuff, take pictures, and generally feel pleased with ourselves whilst Tunabunny were contented with a lunch they needn’t take a bank loan out for, and having their first coffee not made for them by the seemingly omnipresent Costa chain (Mike: “I was afraid when we got back to the car there would be a Costa counter set up in there…”).
I don’t want to make them sound like they are moaning all the time; our excellent motorway signage and recycling of batteries are signs that this nation of Savages could be civilised. They’ve also been bowled over by the great promoters who have looked after us and the people who have come to the shows. Consistently, they are getting feedback that this is the best show that’s been seen in their town for a while (so Glasgow, Liverpool, Nottingham and London, come out and check it out).
But Tunabunny, get over it: this is Britain – it’s a bit shit, just look at the old stuff, and LOVE IT!
(btw, Top Tip for drinking out in York is the House of Trembling Madness, a dark, flickering candle-lit medieval pub with beer in bulbous glasses and a wide variety of (not surprisingly) angry animal heads staring down at customers from timbered walls and ceilings: “Bob, is that a Yorkshire Terrier?”)