Like I've Never Been Gone...
After my glorious five weeks in the sun in SE Asia, I returned to 'frozen Britain' * and boy was it freezing!
Out came my floor length sheepskin coat from Joseph and on it went as I schlepped to Reading for my first gigs after a break of almost six weeks. That coat is sooooo warm, thank god I bought it.
The gigs were Christmas shows and as such had all the joys and horrors associated with the festive season. The joy was the time and a half pay, the horrors were a room full of people who mostly didn't want to be there.
I've written at length in previous years about Christmas gigs, so no need to re-hash it all here, suffice to say this year's are quieter as companies withdraw or cut back funding for the annual jolly, and a lot of the people seem to be wondering if they'll have a works do to go to next year. It's all a bit bleak out there folks.
Anyway this was my last weekend in Reading for the foreseeable future, and I was a bit sad saying 'ta ra' to Rich the fabulous sound man there, but as I stood shivering on the platform at Reading Station waiting for my train to London I was kinda uplifted by the thought that it will be a while before I do this again - if ever.
This weekend I was up in Glasgow for more of the same. Back in August I booked my BA flight from Heathrow. At the time I wasn't even sure that I was going to be taking this leap into the unknown and certainly didn't anticipate the snow that was about to cripple the country. I only booked BA cos at that time it was the cheapest.
So fast forward to last Thursday. Having monitored the situation at both Glasgow and Heathrow all week I was feeling very positive. They were both open, the BA website kept telling my the plane was taking off as planned, yada yada yada.
I got to Paddington and bought my Heathrow Express ticket. I was early, and cold, so I treated myself to my first bacon roll in years and was happily munching on it when my phone pinged. There it was the text from BA saying flight cancelled. No reason given. Both airports were open, every other flight in christendom was taking off and landing, just not mine. I clicked on the 'gimme a refund you useless cunts' button on the BA website then went to get a refund on my Heathrow Express ticket. Of course I have to send it off and wait for that refund.
Assorted hours spent online and on the phone and I was assured that the 13.30 Virgin train was running all the way to Glasgow Central and it was due in at 6pm. Even if it was delayed I'd make it for the gig, so off I went to catch a bus. Outside in Praed Street the road was empty apart from assorted police vehicles - bomb scare. Back down to the tube - severe delays. Somebody was trying to tell me something!
Anyway I got there and the gig on Thursday night was brilliant fun. It was full of students from Caledonian University and they were high as hell on Sunny Delight or something cos they screamed from start to finish! Their energy carried me through the whole night.
Could've used some of that energy on Friday night as the audience there really did seem like hostages - they soooooo didn't want to be there! It was like the Guantanamo Comedy Club! Saturday was better and we all had a cracking night.
My journey back started promisingly, I was at the station early and there was an extra train laid on, so I didn't have to hang about on the station. I also got a table seat to myself in First Class. I was more than happy to hand over my £15 for the upgrade.
By Preston, things changed. First Class was "declassified" but no refund for me. I was in a quiet coach but by Warrington when a gang of "excitable young ladies" got on with their crates of Lambrini it was no longer quiet. At Tamworth we ground to a halt and sat there for an hour due to a signal failure. I was sooooo happy to see the very crowded concourse at Euston!
I was even happier to see my lovely flat. It was warm as I'd followed the guidelines and left the heating on while I was away to stop anything freezing. All the hassles of the weekend evaporated as I chilled out in the warm. At 10pm I heard a 'shudder', the boiler stopped. Just shut down. I rang the emergency call-out number to be told nobody would come till today. I layered up again and go into bed as the last of the warmth seeped out of my flat, and read until sleep (or was it hypothermia) took me.
So here I am today, wearing more clothes in one go than I wore during the entire weekend in the snow! I can see my breath and my joints are slowly seizing up (cheers Lupus). Say a prayer for me folks.
*The Sun
Out came my floor length sheepskin coat from Joseph and on it went as I schlepped to Reading for my first gigs after a break of almost six weeks. That coat is sooooo warm, thank god I bought it.
The gigs were Christmas shows and as such had all the joys and horrors associated with the festive season. The joy was the time and a half pay, the horrors were a room full of people who mostly didn't want to be there.
I've written at length in previous years about Christmas gigs, so no need to re-hash it all here, suffice to say this year's are quieter as companies withdraw or cut back funding for the annual jolly, and a lot of the people seem to be wondering if they'll have a works do to go to next year. It's all a bit bleak out there folks.
Anyway this was my last weekend in Reading for the foreseeable future, and I was a bit sad saying 'ta ra' to Rich the fabulous sound man there, but as I stood shivering on the platform at Reading Station waiting for my train to London I was kinda uplifted by the thought that it will be a while before I do this again - if ever.
This weekend I was up in Glasgow for more of the same. Back in August I booked my BA flight from Heathrow. At the time I wasn't even sure that I was going to be taking this leap into the unknown and certainly didn't anticipate the snow that was about to cripple the country. I only booked BA cos at that time it was the cheapest.
So fast forward to last Thursday. Having monitored the situation at both Glasgow and Heathrow all week I was feeling very positive. They were both open, the BA website kept telling my the plane was taking off as planned, yada yada yada.
I got to Paddington and bought my Heathrow Express ticket. I was early, and cold, so I treated myself to my first bacon roll in years and was happily munching on it when my phone pinged. There it was the text from BA saying flight cancelled. No reason given. Both airports were open, every other flight in christendom was taking off and landing, just not mine. I clicked on the 'gimme a refund you useless cunts' button on the BA website then went to get a refund on my Heathrow Express ticket. Of course I have to send it off and wait for that refund.
Assorted hours spent online and on the phone and I was assured that the 13.30 Virgin train was running all the way to Glasgow Central and it was due in at 6pm. Even if it was delayed I'd make it for the gig, so off I went to catch a bus. Outside in Praed Street the road was empty apart from assorted police vehicles - bomb scare. Back down to the tube - severe delays. Somebody was trying to tell me something!
Anyway I got there and the gig on Thursday night was brilliant fun. It was full of students from Caledonian University and they were high as hell on Sunny Delight or something cos they screamed from start to finish! Their energy carried me through the whole night.
Could've used some of that energy on Friday night as the audience there really did seem like hostages - they soooooo didn't want to be there! It was like the Guantanamo Comedy Club! Saturday was better and we all had a cracking night.
My journey back started promisingly, I was at the station early and there was an extra train laid on, so I didn't have to hang about on the station. I also got a table seat to myself in First Class. I was more than happy to hand over my £15 for the upgrade.
By Preston, things changed. First Class was "declassified" but no refund for me. I was in a quiet coach but by Warrington when a gang of "excitable young ladies" got on with their crates of Lambrini it was no longer quiet. At Tamworth we ground to a halt and sat there for an hour due to a signal failure. I was sooooo happy to see the very crowded concourse at Euston!
I was even happier to see my lovely flat. It was warm as I'd followed the guidelines and left the heating on while I was away to stop anything freezing. All the hassles of the weekend evaporated as I chilled out in the warm. At 10pm I heard a 'shudder', the boiler stopped. Just shut down. I rang the emergency call-out number to be told nobody would come till today. I layered up again and go into bed as the last of the warmth seeped out of my flat, and read until sleep (or was it hypothermia) took me.
So here I am today, wearing more clothes in one go than I wore during the entire weekend in the snow! I can see my breath and my joints are slowly seizing up (cheers Lupus). Say a prayer for me folks.
*The Sun
Labels: Gigs
posted by JoJo Smith at Monday, December 06, 2010
2 Comments:
Bloody Hell Jo.....that is awful! My heart goes out to you. I am one of those who doesn't like to be running round in bikini and thongs in a 25degree micro climate, while we are all sub zero outside.I like to keep the temperature lower than most, and be outside enough to really benefit from, say 18 degrees. But none at all, and no hot water.
Bless hon, *passes flask of hot chocolate and offers bewbie hug*
ooooh the hot chocolate sounds good!
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