We played our first gig, in Sheffield, on Wednesday night. Eric and I had flown to England from NJ the day before. The place is heaving with Union Jacks for the Queen’s jubilee this weekend.
It had occurred to us only days before leaving that we didn’t have a credit card between us, so we were sweating about how that would work for hiring a van. Let’s just say there is always a solution, but this stuff is not for the faint of heart.
After gathering up our equipment from friends Peter & Karen’s place in Norfolk, we set off for the gig only to realize about ten minutes from Sheffield that we’d left one of the amps behind.
Luckily, a guitarist of world renown lives just around the corner from the venue and we were able to borrow his amp. Also fortunate that the guy wasn’t actually in town to come to the gig, so he didn’t get to witness the mighty thrashing his amp was given.
It was rough, it was sweaty, we wore hats (found in the dressing room – never a good idea, but once we’d talked about them to the audience they insisted we put them on). It was fun.
After, we drove back to Norfolk eating pork & stilton pies and listening to Janice Long on the radio. Passed Sandringham and I wondered if the Queen was in there resting up for her big day.
More to come…