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Over to Ireland today to do a podcast and some stand-up at the Spike Sligo, a new festival dedicated to the man who arguably created modern-day comedy, Spike Milligan. It was an early start and I was flying RyanAir from Luton Airport so it wasn’t going to get any easier.
Though aside from the slightly inhumane treatment of their passengers and the kind of seat that seemed designed for my daughter rather than a chunky adult, the journey was quick and easy. I am not a fan of all the passengers being made to wait to board in tiny room with only eight seats, so we have to wait standing up. It seems designed to rob us of our humanity. If no one had seats it might be less aggravating, but after 20 minutes of standing you look at the seat idiots and want to kill them. On the plane I was in Seat 1B so pretended I was flying business class. Which would have been easier if my arm bones weren’t pressing against the arm bones of the two biggest people on the flight. And if I didn’t have all the passengers entering the place stumbling over me. And if the door hadn’t been right by me so rain and cold wind were blowing in. Apart from that it was exactly like business class.
West Ireland looked beautiful from the car from the airport. I have only ever come to this country to do gigs, but one day I must come for a holiday. I had hoped to have a quick rest in my hotel room before the podcast at 3pm, but the room wasn’t ready yet, so I did some research on my guest Sofie Hagen and on Sligo - it means ‘abundance of shells” which I found funny for some reason.
I had lunch in the hotel. A man was dining alone at the table next to mine and a woman asked if she could have his spare chair, “Of course,” he said, rising to his feet, “Would you like me to carry it over for you?” Such decency made me laugh and seemed ludicrous, until I realised that in fact, it is London that is the ridiculous place. No one in my city would be as polite as this and would even resent being asked for the chair (though they would allow it with a grunt). This chivalrous attitude should be the norm everywhere. I thought it was unlikely that I had chanced across this kind of loveliness in the first few minutes of my stay by luck. This was just the way people were here. How awful that the rest of us have lost our humanity
The festival seemed gently organised and when I got to the venue about 10 minutes before the time the show was due to start (according to the brochure) I found it locked. Sofie and I managed to get in and she explained that things in the festival were running on “Irish Time” and that it was unlikely we’d begin until half past. I was a bit more concerned by the fact that only two people were waiting to come into see us.
We went up some time after the official start time and maybe 25 people were there to see us. I wasn’t that surprised. Sligo is a small town and I am not well known in Ireland (or let’s face it anywhere - but at best I am nationally known, not internationally known). If we put on a podcast in any similar sized town we could only hope to get this many people in, I would guess. It was a very loose and rude podcast with both us admitting to various indiscretions and me being casually offensive about everything, including the Troubles. Again just as my outsider’s eye had made me be able to see the good in this town, trying to explain an Orange march to a Danish woman did make the whole thing seem like severe mental illness from everyone involved. I am glad people get so upset about whether a piece of bread is really Jesus or not though. It’s mainly what he was about after all. He’d want people to be getting furious about that. On both sides. Assuming the podcast was recorded and assuming it gets sent on to me, I will put it up soon.
After that I went to see Sofie’s show built around her teenage obsession with Westlife (most of whom come from Sligo). It was one of the first times that she’s done this piece and it was impressive in its scope and its honesty. Her obsessions verged on being terrifying, but the ultimate message was empowering and the small crowd whooped and cheered her. She’s definitely an act worth looking out for.
My own show later in the night was a lot of fun. Maybe 50 or so people showed up for this one and I drank a couple of pints of Guinness and told my stories, which worked well. 50 people listening in a pub on a Saturday night is quite an unusual thing, but Sligo is not like other places. I went out for a drink with a few of the other comics and it was nice to have a social time, as so much of the tour has been about doing the show and getting home or back to the hotel. But I was tired and missing my girls and didn’t stay out too long.
The whole day was a bit surreal and strange which seems fitting for a festival celebrating Spike. So many towns on tour blur into one, but I don’t thing I will forget Sligo in a hurry, even though I didn’t see much more than the hotel, the river and the venue.
