Stockton and Halifax

Good job I overheard a fellow-traveller on the way to Stockton: the connection at Northallerton had been cancelled so I had to travel on to Darlington and change there. Thankfully, Stephen and Wendy Harland cam to meet me. But O, the madness of gigs! The key holder of the NE Volume Bar had been held up by a fire on a train in Newcastle. Several chilly band members tried to find a sunny spot on the pavement outside the venue while we waited. What a relief when the key turned up!

The sound checks were short and efficient. Dave the sound engineer is really good and we all got a decent shot at a soundcheck before tucking in to the curry that Wendy had made for backstage- and glory be, Haribos!

I went on first. I'd been going to be a babby and beg to sit down and play, but I forgot to ask, so rock star mode it was. It was a very different experience to the last time when I played there, mid-lockdown. Chris Bartley was at both gigs and we were talking about that. Different crowd too, but I think I did Ok; I definitely enjoyed it!

Thee Strawberry Mynde went on next (see photo). They are a trio from the Hartlepool area and play psychedelic rock of the first order: good loud songs with some wacky and extraordinary guitar parts that set their music apart from the general throng. I liked their songs a lot.

I have played with the headliners, The Fallen Leaves, at one of Shelley Guild's gigs at the Green Door Store in Brighton. They too have memorable songs, and played numerous encores.

It was astonishing to see their bass-player's Hofner President bass, a year later than my old one that went to live with Martin Stephenson when we slit up. Rock star alimony! Anyway, we had a very nerdy bass player's conversation about semis.

Thanks to Stephen and Wendy not only for the gig, but also for letting me stay and ferrying me around. a few people on Saturday night said 'How can you do this, travelling around and getting up to play on your own?'. I'd never thought of it like that. I feel like I sort of blend into the general world, so I don't feel isolated or intimidated at all by it.

Anyway, on to Halifax, a much more straightforward journey. My friend Alison Ridler met me on the train at Bradford Interchange and once I'd left my guitar at the Grayston Unity, at their recommendation we went round the corner and had the most wonderful Paella in the world and talked the hind legs of a herd of donkeys.

This was such a different gig, just as good in a completely different way. It had sold out (actually a couple of extra people showed up and they let them in). I played two 40-minute sets with a break to a small upstairs room full of very friendly people. It almost felt like something we did together: it was intense, in the best possible way. I realised that it was break-time and had stopped before Let's Make Up. A man sitting close in front of me had read the set list upside down and requested it to be played when people came back in. Eighty minutes is a lot of songs, but I still managed to miss out The Ginger Line because I was dotting about the set list. A woman who came along early very kindly gave me some candles, and a chap in the audience gave me some poetry he'd written. And yes, we sang At The Bathing Pond together and I finished with Three Cheers for Toytown. 'That was a punk song', declared a man at the back. The song was very glad to be recognised.

I've got next weekend off and then I'm playing at David's Music in Letchworth. Three cheers for gigging, and my train-travellers fan!