it starts with the flight
that interminable darkness with all the movies on the back of the seats
the smell of the aircraft food and walking around in the darkness
im already tired after we’ve flown the first inch but I cling on
crying my eyes out at stupid films I wouldn’t normally give the time of day
my back in shoulders ache wanting to stretch out my legs
blah blah we arrive in Hong Kong and negotiating all that
how do I know which frickin train to get on n off on
then the flight from Hong Kong to london
it lasts forever and another few minutes more than that
but the month the year the years are flying by fast as fast can be
one moment I was a kid waiting outside the school for my mother to get me
next minute im on a fucking plane
its god knows what time
I guess im over Mongolia or something
im so old im so tired im so weary
im crammed into my seat in the middle row
no aisle no nothing
the food is ok but I gotta sit there looking at all the other food thats coming too
finally I arrive in England
and a guy picks me up at airport
and drives me out to Amandas in the south west of England
it takes a couple of hours
im ecstatic to be off the plane
and we talk about Boris and Brexit and ww2
as we zoom thru the soft grey drizzle of 2nd of September
when I get to Amandas I seem to get jet lag for about a week
and I just sleep on and on and on
I wake up occasionally to stumble round the village and in the woods
its early autumn
we stop and eat blackberries but not all of em are that sweet
sometimes we rehearse the songs and run thru our paces
but mostly I seem to sleep
I miss my sea pool in Sydney and its rejuvenating qualities
after about 2 weeks Trevor turns up in the van
one sunny morning and we are off n running
down the M( insert number here )
the blur begins
the British motor services with all the cafes and little casinos
and every moto-place in Britain has a special on kids wetsuits
the endless coffees and almond chai lattes
the endless veggie burgers
the endless GPS telling ya where to go
Trevor has to miss a few gigs and I have to drive myself
if theres a way of making a wrong turn then I will do that
I get real unlucky in Edinburgh where the traffic is a bitch
round n round n round
till Ali jumps in the van and shows me where to make the illegal u-turn to get to gig
its murder out there folks
we already did this in the western states of the US but the cities there are easier to navigate
Edinburghs traffic is like a buddhist koan to be penetrated
I try not to lose the plot
its a herculean task all of it
carrying in the stuff
setting it all up
the long soundchecks trying to figure out how to make it sound ok
everyplace different every crew is different
every hotel is different
where do you park?
wheres the key?
wheres my reservation?
the music goes by in a dream
the time on stage which is time in a dream
the strumming guitar
the rippling and pounding piano
the old voice still sometimes surprisingly strong
I mean where is it all coming from?
some nights we hit some lovely things
the audiences were warm and kind
afterwards ya sign stuff then trudge all the gear out and drive away
more GPS malarky maybe or smooth sailing
we talk about the gig
yeah it was good
one morning you wake up n its today
Amanda flew off to Washington DC to play with the P Furs
im here at Heathrow in a day room or something
my flight is still a long ways off
being slightly on the spectrum I guess as you’d say
I suddenly miss being part of something and having a mission
and I feel becalmed in a room at the airport Ibis hotel
all that sound and fury of the tour
did it signify anything ..?
the people and the places and the wild blackberries
now I sit type type type
a truly gloomy room I will leave soon and go to the airport
my flight aint for hours but what can ya do?
adios amigos
see you soon hah!!
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