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On the drive into Scotland one sees road signs that say: Carlisle & Scotland. On the drive back south one doesn't see signs that say: Carlisle & England. I can't think why--unless the English think you're already in England and it's redundant to singpost it? I would imagine the Scot's would welcome the opportunity to higlight the border one more time....



We left Glasgow and its paltry Pagan Winter Lights ( I guess the Scottish aren't too superstitious about the dark, judging by this meagre display) to spend a night in Carlisle en route to Nottingham. We stayed in a well-hidden hotel in the centre of town that reminded everyone of England Circa 1941 when they woke in the morning and the sun was shining on the market square. It did have a market town feel to it - and we were staying in the main square, the kind of place where everyone would have got together for a good hanging a couple of hundred years ago.





However, biggest surprise for me was how much they'd pimped out the market square for the pagan light festival (Hard to see here in daylight). They had the three wise men with faces so scary you'd never let them in to see a baby, especially if one of them was carrying some death oil. And the rest of the square was similarly decked-out. I guess Carlisle people like to ward of the darkness. They also had an Ann Summers store on the market square so I guess we can all deduce from that that people in Carlisle like christmas time and are always at it in saucy underwear.....to be fair to them though, there didn't seem to be much else to do there, not now we've stopped hanging people anyways.


We drove past Newcastle and passed the Angel of The North, a giant steel (?) sculpture next to the A1 that you can see for miles and that gave me the willies a bit like a giant Wicker Man might.



When we got to Nottingham I was cheered to see that the ghost of Christmas Future (for me anyway) Steven Seagal is playing at Rock City in Nottingham in February. I'm tempted to fly back to see this show. Really. And that scares me now that I've said it because I might.




After the show during load out I collided with an inch thick piece of plywood that some spazzy roadie made ages ago for Steve in Albert's band (f***king thing weighs a ton and could be used as a roll-on / roll-off car ferry if need be). Net result was that I saw stars and nearly threw up while Brian, who was carrying the pedal board felt dreadful with guilt. It was a silly accident and apparently my head made a good noise when we collided-i really can't remember as I was on my hands and knees trying not to cry. However, 20 minutes later once the drugs had kicked in (and I never knew so many people on this tour were carrying painkillers....I was impressed) I was entertained by how big the bump got. It turned into a real cartoon bump. I could have done without having to drive back to London but it wasn't so bad until someone put on the hippy music and the bump started throbbing in protest.

Here's Brian being wracked with guilt.




Anyway, three hours to sleep in now before tomorrow's promo begins. Last night in a hotel for 48 hours too so I should make use of a bed that doesn't shake.

Not that a shaking bed is a bad thing. Don't put words into my mouth.