One of the biggest highlights was playing Salford Lowry Theatre to a full capacity crowd. Nice.

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Day 21 - Poole
Down to the South coast and Poole. I'm knackered and rock up into the dressing room of the lighthouse for a kip. In fact I kip for most of the day and don't really see anything or anyone until showtime. If I see another sandwich I will shoot someone in the face with it. I don't even remember the show.
On the way out of Poole we stop at a Tesco's 24. Look at this shelf of cider. This is Tesco's. It may look like an average selection of cider like any other Tescos's, but it isn't. You'd be surprised just how much the menu changes when you get near Somerset and it's neighbouring counties. Thatchers gold in both bottles and cans, Sheppy's Dabinet and three varieties of Cornish rattler, you'd be hard pushed to find those in the North West and North East in your average supermarket...and they're all gorgeous.

Day 22 - Taunton
Into somerset proper where I get a large flaggon of Sheppy's scrumpy that will hopefully make it all the way home to Manchester at the end of tour. In the car we listen to soundtracks from computer games, and I rabbit on about the Elder Scrolls RPG games until everyone is utterly bored, but at least I'm not banging on about Doctor Who anymore. Anything to stay awake at the wheel. I am amused by a shop called 'world of bears' but I don't know why.
The show is good for me and great for Charlie, plenty of laughs. I find it hard work, but wouldn't change it for the world. Five show's left.

Day 23 - Eastbourne
Eastbourne is lovely. It's Saturday (must hang on to what day it is) and the sun is shining, the sky is full of those guys on motorised parachute thingy's whirling about all over the shop which looks really exciting. I wander through the main shopping parade where like Manchester they have a shopping centre called the arndale, and down to the sea.

The Devonshire Park Theatre is old and lovely and we have a top show, really enjoyable. The landlord of the venue pub next door gets us to sign the poster for the show and will put it with the others on his wall. It's a thrill as I have so much affection all the British actors I see the names of on the walls. Awesome.
Our hotel is a small chain owned by John Malcovich the actor. It's our intention to look for the seventh and a half floor and climb inside his head, but unfortunetly as we arrive the lift has been broken by a dozen topless drunk stags who have all tried to squeeze into it. They all come out laughing like idiots as they inconvenience all the other guests in the hotel. We carry our bags up three flights of stairs. I want to push them all into the sea. There is a picture of John Malcovich on the wall of the room, looking p***ed off. I think he knows.

Day 24 - Southsea
It's quiet, not much is open and getting dinner is a chore as we go into the pub next to the Kings Theatre. Seeing someone eating a Sunday lunch I try to work out how they knew to order it being that there are no menus on the tables, and no specials board. On asking for a menu we get a single piece of A4 paper, with no mention of Sunday lunch on it. I go to the bar and ask if they do Sunday lunch. There's is a noticeable pause before the girl replies 'We do a Sunday roast?' Bless. She brings a friend of over to help with the sentence 'We've got Chicken, Beef or Pork, but no Chicken'. Charlie notices seating upstairs and tests them further. 'Yes you can sit upstairs, but there's no table service upstairs' came the seemingly adequate reply until we realise the kitchen is upstairs and the serving waitresses have to go upstairs in order to fetch the food down.
We have time to kill as Erin goes in to prep the show, so me and Charlie visit the D-Day museum. I don't know that I expected much, but it was a great display of vehicles and memorabilia, showing the preparation for operation Overlord and the sheer scale of the operation it's hard to imagine. Impressive and really sobering.
The theatre is gorgeous, another ageing beauty. The show is great too, and after we to the Phoenix for a pint where I get uncharacteristically shirty, then calm down (I'm just tired). The walls are awesomely covered with signed photo's and I get snap happy on pictures of Bernard Horsfall, David Yip, Sue Pollard, Tom O'Conner, Bernard Breslaw, Spike Milligan and the pub dog.

Day 25, 26 - Break & Alnwick
On the road for most of the day, from South coast to Northumberland six hours or so seeing nearly all of the A1/M1, deciding against the M18 connecting road just to be a purist. A nice meal where I eat some beetroot and cucumber, a chat to the wife, a pint and bed.
If you like books, Alnwick has an amazing second hand bookshop called Barter Books - it's just huge. I'm not a big reader and I spent the best part of an hour in it instead of visiting the castle which is also huge. The town itself is quite small but the people are canny and you can feel the history here.

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Day 12 - Break
A big drive back to Manchester and a rest. I look forward to a kip in my own bed and a fuss of the cat, but instead fix the cupboard door in the kitchen that's been bugging me for ages, then take out the bins, as all the people in our block haven't bothered. Oh how bloody showbiz. I am too tired to be annoyed and drink myself to sleep in front of my computer.

Day 13 - Scunthorpe
Scunthorpe Plowright Theatre is sandwiched between the police station and the fire station, it's small and old school and the staff are very jolly. Wandering around the place I don't know if it's me, the town, the weather or all three - but it's down and dismal. Loads of Greggs and pound shops, maybe no more than anywhere else, but they stick out more today. I get fish and chips from the BHS cafe. The show is far mare than I expect it to be, the people are well up for it, but not always laughing where I expect.

Day 14 - Barnsley
The clouds part on the way to Glossop and we have a great scenic midday drive to Barnsley listening to Holst's planet suite. Barnsley Civic theatre is a new theatre and art space, and the facilities are great. I feel really sluggish, and really need to push myself to eat healthily on the road. With some gagrbaldi biscuits and fruit from Morrisons I'm happy enough until showtime. It's 'hump day', we are officially halfway through the tour.
From my dressing room on the third floor I can see some kids hiding behind the waterfall feature, on the front grassy area outoside the theatre. I take photos of them as they appear to take drigs, see me, then quickly dash over a wall.

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Day 8 & 9 - Norwich
The theatre in Peterborough has sadly closed it's doors, we only found out days before, so two days in Norwich then, and to make up for it the prior show here at Norwich Playhouse is already sold out. On the way we stumble across the "World Famous Comfort Cafe" which appears to be a simple cafe services with a cunning name. Sitting drinking coffee and reading the paper is Wes Zaharuk, a great props comic, he's killing time before heading to Norwich too to play Jongleurs.
Our accom for Norwich feels a bit harsh and seventies, but I'm happy for the room. A hotel & conference centre, the kind of place Reggie Perrin would have stayed before his breakdown, with a brushed silver control panel at the bedside like you'd see on an old ITC spy drama. ‎"Do I need anything to get on your WiFi?" I said to the receptionist, infering a password. "A computer" she said matter of factly, like I'm stupid. I could feel the words "secure connection?" on the tip of my tongue, but they didn't come out. Upon trying it is a secure connection, in that their network does not let you on it.
The stay is made invaluably better by the arrival of wor lass, who has made the four hour trip from Manchester with some mates to see me on this, probably the only occasion I'm in one place long enough. This is where the showbiz lifestyle is hard, since the end of June we've only seen each other a handful of times. Simple pleasures like making my woman egg on toast for breakfast will have to wait till October. Sad face.
The Norwich show is awesome, a real high point so far, and the baer serves Aspalls cider too. I love it.

Day 10 - Braintree
Braintree may have been named after the wallnut tree's which grow here and look a bit like brains, but that's just one theory. I'm sick of sandwiches now, take a chance on a microwaveable ready meal hoping the venue has a microwave. Always a risk if they don't as there may be no fridge either. We arrive at the venue, great room, great wifi, great staff but no microwave or kettle. So... No tea? NO TEA!!?? WTF!.... Yes tea. I have a new supply of evil Typhoo QT instant granules and they have a hot water station. With no water to boil, bag to squeeze or milk to pour I make the quickest cup of tea in the world ever, in 6 seconds. I mourn my microwavable curry as the sealed black plastic tray slowly expands in the warmth and break out the instant mash for lunch instead.

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Day 3 - Didcot
Didcot Cornerstone is a new arts centre and theatre, right next door to a cinema. I'm upset that I've missed a load of good movies including Super 8 and Captain America, so I go and see Rise of the Planet of the Apes. I like it. The venue is a studio space, all modern and cool, and made the nicer by Emily the front of house manager, who is very welcoming and very fit too. I look at her. I have been away from home for too long and give myself a big slap then phone my woman. The show is great.
We stay in the Kingswell Hotel, built over a well where one of the previous owners threw themselves in. I'm reminded we are in cider country as they serve a rather good cider and have a great pint beneath a picture of Winston Churchill.

Day 4 - Great Torrington.
After a B road drive the village of Great Torrington is lovely and has bunting hanging in the street. At the 'Green Lantern Cafe and Bakery' I order a ham and cheese toasty, a cheese and onion pasty, a cake and a mug of tea which all comes to £3. We are back in time. Charlie and I find a map of the town which includes the places such as 'Ladies Wash' and 'Bastard lane', we try to find Bastard lane but there is no sign post at the location for it when we do and an amusing photo call is lost.
There is a lot of history here and once a year there is a LARPing event where people get dressed up as cavaliers and try and bomb the town with cannons, to recreate an event involving Oliver Cromwell and 200 kegs of mislplaced gunpowder. There is a hill outside the town which was created with body parts. At the theatre they tell me about the history and the people are quaint and a bit scary.
The show is odd. As Danny Pensive I play mostly to silence and wonder if I'm holding up a mirror too close to the locals perception. There is one particularly long silence which I play to and let hang with a simple closed yes/no question, waiting for a least one of the 150 strong crowd to answer. No one does. It remains a silence.
In the toilets after the gig I spot a swastika carved into the wall, and overhear some children talking about Alistair Crowley.
We make our exist after the show and head off into even darker boonies and the Ram's Head Inn for accomodation. The landlord is incredibly welcoming and chatty and the rooms are very elaborate. In the bar we get chatting, the landlord spots my Doctor Who t-shirt (one of many) and starts discussing my favourite television show. I happily join in until he tells me of the programme before my time when he was young, a show about a man who lived in a council house and built a tardis out of a shed he had in the back yard. What? I go to correct him, but he's insistent. It's all Erin our tour manager can do to interject so I don't go apeshit. I get as far as naming the date and time of the broadcast of the first episode before the conversation is changed to something less dangerous.
I go to bed and watch the american apprentice final. Piers Morgan has won as he is a massive ****.

Day 5 & 6 Borehamwood
A day off and we drive to Borehamwood via Avebury, a small town with a big ring of stones and a National Trust site where creepy kids serial 'Children of the Stones' was filmed back in the 70's. I walk the circle with my headphones on listening to atmospheric soundtrack music to get the full on pagan magic effect.
Then on to Borehamwood, a bit of soul-less place after the last few days. It is however home of Elstree studios where some of star wars was actually made, and they still have some big budget movies shoot here apparently.
I've driven all day and I'm knackered and hungry. Wandering back to the hotel past Elstree with a pizza in one hand and a 4 pack of cider in the other, the older surrounding building's still look authentically 50's with their square partitioned single glazed windows, wood & glass doors and big wire mesh gates leading to warehouses behind . You could easily imagine it being a big hub of activity a few decade's back, but now not so much. It's all office space and I can look in and see stressed faces buried in computer screens.

The sun goes down and the sky is weird orangey pink colour. It looks beautiful, but at the same time quite oppressive. Show tomorrow.

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Day 1 - Corby
Actually more like day two, coming down a day early for an exciting Lodnod casting and to
collect the tourmobile for an early start the next day. I've not had time to digest
Edinburgh properly, or do a new press release like I promised myself with the nice new
stars on it. No. Instead I've walked down the high streets of Chiswick for chips,
Northampton for a milkshake and Corby for a banana. It's my third support tour for one man star wars, and it's rock and roll, and this time I'm even on the poster.
The Corby Cube gig is nice for the first one back, not too rusty going from playing a small
50 capacity room for a month to a theatre, just need to get my head around the 'big
acoustics' again.

Facts about corby; it was a steel working town and has a high population
of scots who moved there for the industry. They have orangemen marches there once a year, and the swimming pool has no shallow end, and is just 1.8 metres all the way across. So you either swim in Corby, or you don't.

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Day 21 – Brecon
If Nottingham was a high point of the last tour, then Brecon was not. The town is very picturesque, the roads are too narrow for a Citroen Xsara, and the hotel offers no parking so I'm amazed they get guests considering the remoteness of the place. In September the theatre here was the smallest audience and a very odd mix with it.
As we rock up outside the theatre a load of old folks are getting off a canal boat and onto a coach decorated with images of watches and the slogan - “Mark this moment in time”. This is where people come to visit before they die. There is a rider for the show, this is a first, and it's the rider from the notes of the original tour Charlie did several years back, they still have it. I eat strawberries and a child makes me a cup of tea and brings it to my dressing room. I am showbusiness. I am tired showbusiness.
Five minutes into the gig and a geordie wearing an NFC soccer shirt in the front has a pop at me at the mention of the word Sunderland. I smell apparently, as do all people who hail from my wearside town. He should know, as he explains he courted one for several years, which I point out has probably skewed his view, and he then admits he has only ever know three people from Sunderland. Danny Pensive presents the maths to the audience and is full of win. The bloke is then lovely both he and his kid get well into the show. It's a lot better than I expected. The bar at the guest house serves Thatchers Gold cider. Hurra...zzzzzz.

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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.

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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

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While I am on tour with the one man star wars show I am still doing videos. The sound goes up and down and there is a bit of windy noise, sorry about that.

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While I am on tour with the one man star wars show I am still doing videos. The sound goes up and down and there is a bit of windy noise, sorry about that.

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Day 10 – Dundee
My life could have been very different, in the early ninetie's I was interviewed for a placement at Dundee art college, and I really wanted to get in as it was well known in comic book circles as a place where some of the better 2000ad artists graduated from. I went through quite an intimidating visual assessment of my work, and I could see the other candidates were really good. It didn't happen and this is the first time I've visited since.

Strathcaro cafe services is the oddest services I've ever been in, the whole building is held together by screws and sellotape, they industrial size bags of cat litter, toys, plants and there is a full size model horse in the window. Signs are all hand painted and say things like 'We have a choice of soups'. Onwards.

The Caird hall is even bigger than Aderdeen, genuinely huge, and for our purposes partitioned for the show. It's a good show, if hard work filling such an enormous space. Charlie has a great one. Afterwards we drink in 'The Pillars' a proper Scottich pub, in the opposite room a band is playing called 'Salty Dog' and we are convinced we are being followed by increasingly bad renditions of Alanis Morrisette songs. The hotel has two different weddings going, with kilts aplenty. I could sleep for a week.

Day 11 – Livingston
Halfway between Edinburgh and Glasgow is Livingston, a small town with one of the biggest Asda's I've ever seen. Scarily big - and the whole town are in there. I've been trying not to shop at the big corporate's, but it's really hard not to when you're on the road. Not knowing where to get stuff or where places are, it's a mixture of comfort and dissapointment to see a chain store.
The venue is in a residential area, which feels odd, then we see it...

That can't be right? Fortunetly we follow the narrow road a bit further.

I look out the window of the next hotel, they are all blurring together. An ice cream van passes by playing the theme tune from 'the third man'. There was an ice cream van where I lived as a kid that did the same. Spooky.

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Day 1 - Gravesend
I have an Asda carrier bag containing some mug-shot pasta snacks, cider, chicken pieces and disposable tissue hankies. London eases me nicely into the monotony of the road.  An hour to cross London? Healthrow to Gravesend? I think not. More like two. Joining us on the road is our stage manager from New Zealand, she used to work for WETA workshop (them people who made the models for the Lord of the Rings movies) so is automatically cool geek and also Richard. Richard is a super effiecient Stormtrooper wrangler from Birmingham. The first night is a good 'break-in' for all of us at the Woodville Halls venue. Richard mates turn up and they disappear, then reappear looking effing cool. One of them is a biker scout. I have Danny Pensive's coat on and in their presense look like a jawa.

Day 2  - Bury St Edmunds
The Royal theatre has an 'Ian McKellan' dressing room. Charlie is already in it. Richard has taken the 'Dame Judi Dench' room, and I'm down stairs in dressing room number six that I've called the 'Patrick MgGoohan' Room. Meeting my mate Matt in a bit, he lives outside Bury St Ed's and for a living handles heavy artillary, so he likes his star wars. It's a full house tonight, despite, the bank holiday and the Royal Wedding, of which I've heard and seen nothing. Nevermind.

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