Oh Lord
Empire, Belfast
If you're travelling in a tour bus and the tour bus goes on a ferry, there comes a moment when you have to decide whether you'd prefer to stay in bed be sealed in the car deck in the dark, waiting for the rising sea water to dampen your bunk; or get up early and enjoy the bracing sea air and atrocious cuisine of the passenger deck. Today everyone is in bed until the last possible moment, and then there is turmoil as everyone rushes to find clothes and glasses and shoes before they seal the doors. It's very like in a submarine film when they have to go to action stations and everyone runs around. Apart from Alonza, who sleeps through like a giant baby.
Luckily, Dave's friend has just sent him the most hilarious picture I have ever seen, and there is a hotel nearby with a bath in it, which makes everything seem a little better.
We weren't sure how the Belfast date was going to sell, but when we get on stage the room is full and very attentive. It feels like the band is starting to gel - let's not forget we've barely played ten gigs together. It takes time to find the rhythm.
Afterwards we get to meet the Duke's wife (the Duchess?) and they help me to meet Guinness properly for the first time, along with a small and toxic variation called Baby Guinness, for which I thank them long and slurringly.
