Guillemots continue on their UK tour with all it’s attendant problems (getting lost and sock with holes in). Singer Fyfe Dangerfield fills us in…
—–
Eventually, I see “Norwegian Jade”, who sounds like a buxom stripper but is actually a huge ferry
The tour continues. I wake up at 10, and know that over yonder lies the rolling ocean. And so I set off on the streets of Southampton to find the great ocean. Something goes wrong though, because I end up wondering around a network of industrial estates and finding myself in the John Lewis Warehouse. Maybe this wasn’t the best day to go wandering. I let myself be guided there by the distant cranes, but then I keep getting to the edge of various car parks only to find a high mesh fence that cannot be overcome. This happens a few times. Eventually, I see “Norwegian Jade”, who sounds like a buxom stripper but is actually a huge ferry, and I realise I’m almost there. And at last I see it, the ocean. Sort of. A bit of concrete and same water. And a couple of black-headed gulls. Which, fact fans, don’t have black heads. They’re chocolate brown. The world of facts is a murky place.
I then go to Primark to buy some socks, as I have all but run out of holeless ones. There’s a very long queue. After standing in it for about five minutes and not getting very far, I have a mild moment of panic when I see that the socks I’m buying are for “Size 6-11 feet”. I’m a size 12. It then occurs to me that I’ve never tended to check the size of socks I’ve bought in the past, and that maybe this was a grave error on my part. So I cautiously dash off back to the bit where the socks are, to make sure that there wasn’t a larger sock option anyway. There isn’t. My socks are a safe bet. I make a very good manoeuvre back into the queue at the same position, which strictly speaking is queue jumping, but no-one seems to mind. I think it was the nonchalant look in my eyes that saved me being told off. Earlier on a wee old lady with a walking stick had sort of landed in the queue near me and then this other horsey-looking woman just in front of me turned to her and said “the back of the queue’s over there”, pointing a few metres away, which I thought seemed a bit pedantic. But then I could see that if I tried to intervene I’d end in another Larry David situation. People are strange.
For a good ten minutes I proceeded to try land grapes in their open mouths
But anyway, touring – well, I haven’t told you the most exciting bit of the day yet. Grape throwing. On returning to the dressing room, I found some grapes and, trying to be a bit rock’n’roll, threw one out of the window. Except I have a very bad aim so it just hit the glass and bounced back. I tried again and the same happened. On the third attempt, I finally managed to get a grape out of the window. By this time, Greig, Martin – our stage manager – and Neil – our tour manager – were all sat in a line with mouths agape like sea-lions, and for a good ten minutes I proceeded to try land grapes in their open mouths. This, I think, has been the peak of the day’s excitement so far. But anything could yet happen…
