Washboard Blues

It’s hard to know how much to give away about the new trip here on the blog.

On one hand I want to tell you about all the fabulous adventures I’m having upsetting pyschics in pubs and rolling down muddy embankments whilst trying to sneak into a bonfire.

And on the other I don’t want you guys to feel like you’ve heard it all before when you read the book.

It’s a hard call. Especially after a night where I played a washboard in front of an appreciative crowd for the very first time. And not only that, the crowd insisted I get back on stage when the proper washboard player – the legendary Graham Moncrieff – flung his board to the ground and dashed off to the toilet mid-song.

Things have also been complicated by the fact I just put mobile Facebook on my phone. To be honest, I never saw much sense in Facebook. But now it’s so easy to update my profile I’m firing off status updates at the slightest change in my circumstances.

The novelty will wear off, of course, and the number of updates will diminish, but I kind of like the idea of sending out little cryptic messages about my progress in the UK.

The responses from my Facebook friends are quite entertaining as well. My declaration that I was in a tattoo parlour in Ayr prompted a number of replies advising me to think carefully. Andrew Marrow told me he was in the process of having five tatts removed and that it hurt like hell.

You’re probably wondering yourself now what I was doing in a tatto parlour in Western Scotland.

Would it annoy you if I said you’ll have to read the book to find out?