Day 16 – Redhill, Surrey.
Redhill Harlequin is the first 'stage-less' venue we've done. I'm sure there is a technical term for it, but don't know what it is. In the gusthouse, Richard and I are booked into a family room, with is spacous, and also has a shower cubicle in the corner.

Despite being a bit ripe and fragrant with all the travelling I opt not to wash in full view. The crowd for that night is pretty broad and sporadic, a gang of sassy geek girls on one side and more considered older groups on the other side of a wide auditorium, make the show feel more like a gag tennis. There is a nice windmill on a hill on the way out, and I annoy a motorist by stopping to photograph it.

Day 17 – Leamington Spa.
On the way to 'Royal Leamington Spa', Hey Hey It's...I spot the Monkee-mobile being karted up the motorway – a big red convertible with yellow lettering. I guess correctly it's on it's way to Manchester for the concert my missus is attending that night..here they come.

We stop off in Warwick to look at the castle, but think better of it when we see the admission price of twenty quid. To be honest it looks more like an amusement park than a castle, which is fine for a family day out but not for a bunch of travellers looking for a quick fix of history.

Instead we check out the town, and stumble across a town criers competition, which I consider to be all kinds of awesome as mature men and women are dressed up to the nines in all kinds of old school bling compete in the town square with their best five. 'Workshopping' in public as Danny Pensive, I talk to a lovely chap who is only too happy to chat, get my photo taken with him and show me his bell.
Tonight is the Royal Spa Centre, the show is great but our tour manager is a bit narked that they don't lt her operate the lights, like the other 99.9% of places we've been at. I'm enamoured of the seventie's build of the place and the wide san-serif font used throughout the building – I can't place it, but it's straight out of Gerry Anderson's UFO. The guest house has wifi, and tonight I have a room to myself. I fall asleep watching 'The Doctor's wife' twice. It's mint.

Day 18, 19 – Harrogate
The second free day of the run, and the opportunity to wake up in my own bed. I had entered the Manchester 10k which takes place today, but that was a massive overreach of good intent. I'm in no state for it physically or mentally. Wading through crowds in the rain wearing just a cardigan, I don't care, I meet the missus at the end of her run and a big hug. I could fall asleep in the street. Next morning is catching up on some much overdue admin, speak to agent, speak to Buxton fringe, speak to cat, hamster and fish, then off to Harrogate. Harrogate theatre is a great venue, it shows a lot of comedy and it's a cheap thrill to get recognised by the staff from and a the last time I was here. The main stage is a proper old theatre with a great atmosphere, and it's a great warm show.

Day 12 & 13 – Middlesborough
Back into England and a free day. On the way down the M6 we stop at Grenta Green, a place I've always wanted to visit.
If you're not familiar it's a small village on the England/Scotland border where young couples would run away to get married back in the day. It's a far bigger tourist attraction than I expected, and in the half hour we're there two bus loads of japanese tourists and a load of school kids turn up to raid the whiskey shop take photos. I buy a teatowel for romantic purposes.
Onwards to Durham and the precious free day. I covered this in my last tour blog but it's worth covering again; touring is constant movement. Rarely stopping, organising at short notice to make best use of the time you have, as you don't know if the next town will have wifi at the venue or hotel to get online and catch up, I can't even imagine how I mananged before. Simple stuff like getting a cup of tea becomes a focused taks, and If its a long drive I'll often waive the opportunity to discover a new town in favour of a kip.
In the brief time at my folks I cook up some pasta for the road to try and keep us healthy, and that night we play Middlesborough Theatre. It's good and the people are nice, not as rock and roll as perhaps we'd like, but maybe that's to be expected.

Day 14 – Stevenage
The journey down the full length of the A1/M1 passes without incident. Charlie has taken the train to meet his missus who joins us on the road for a week.
As we walk through it, Stevenage feels similar to Dunstable, a little plastic, a little soulless. Unfortunetly this is reflected in the gig. I get a spattering of response, and someone has a baby in the audience? It's like the place has given up, the people don't allow themselves to enjoy what they've come out to see, or they've forgotten how to have fun.
Some technical issues ensue too, for both me and Charile. We do some drinking and my pasta bakes are enjoyed by all.

Day 15 – Treorchy, Rhonda Valley
Into deepest Wales and the Rhonda valley, I've been into Wales numerous times, but not here. Once in Wales, the drive is a warren of headache inducing narrow roads. Folk either drive too slow, or come towards too fast, spacial awareness is not on the to-do list here.The industrial history of Treorchy is in evidence all around. A mining wheels still stands on the road into the town and the theatre and nearby pubs display the mining heritage in their signage.

Across from the venue is the Station Cafe, a sweet shop and cafe that I'm amazed still exists. Wooden shelving in the window, a sliding glass display case filled with jars of sweets and a beige mechanical bakalite shop till – like the one in 'open all hours'. Make no mistake, this is no retro styled marketing gimmick, trying to make a fictional version of the past look cool.
I buy a can of pop for fifty pence from the spectacled lady behind the counter who wears the white and blue checked apron of a shopkeeper. I'm wearing Danny's coat, I ask for the pop in Danny's voice, I'm not trying to be a dick, it feels perfectly natural. I put fifty pence piece on the wooden counter top and she presents the pop from the fridge behind her. I have regressed, I have fallen through time. This is the real deal.
Some kids are sitting in the low framed booth seating drinking cans of coke. The windows have blinds on them half pulled so it's a bit dark. If a mod walked in right now with greased hair and a leather jacket, or a chap in a massive collar and flared trousers, wooing a girl in a mini skirt with big hair, I wouldn't have batted an eyelid. It's all a bit melancholy and a bit beautiful at the same time.
“Are you from the Star Wars?” I've only just stepped out of the shop and am surrounded by about six kids. They all start talking to me at once, they've seen Rich our stormtrooper in the lobby of the theatre across the street and the combination of that and the blue bon-bon's they're all eating his made them hyper. Am I famous? Where am I from? Say something funny? Can they take my photo? Can I take their photo? Will I be their friend on facebook? (What?!) For a minute i'm weary of how odd the situation looks, as a few adults stare at a grown man in a duffel coat talking to kids. Then I remember i'm not wanted by the police for naughty crimes, and relax. Photo's are taken, we chat about silly fun stuff, then I leave them too it. They called me sir and one sticky fingered kids wanted to shake my hand. Nice kids, just looking for fun stuff to do. As a result the show if full of warmth, and is a great one.
From the upstairs window of the theatre Charlie had seen me with the kids. His photo's look like crimestoppers security camera footage.

We stay in a guesthouse nearby run by a guy called Alun. Alun is a top bloke and proper welsh. He's a keen biker who plays darts and gets the odd star name staying at his place. He once had Derek Acorah stay, but clearlt doesn't think that much of him, as he uses the signed photo as a darts score-card. Top bloke.

A mankini clad piper in Livingston