Oh silly Richard. I should not have got drunk last night. I ended up staying up late and then waking up early and then being too tired to do anything constructive.
I set off for Leamington Spa in a bit of a daze, with the postcode of the venue in my satnav, which I believe whatever it tells me. When I got to just outside Coventry and it said there was still 30 or 40 miles to go I thought that was a bit weird. After all I had been there just two weeks ago and had been struck by how close it was to Warwick Arts Centre. But my sat nav wouldn't lie.
It's only when I found myself on the M6 that I started to think there must have been some kind of mistake and sure enough I discovered I had been looking on the wrong page on my tour itinerary and put in the post code of the theatre in Wolverhampton where I should be in two days time. Luckily I hadn't gone too far out of my way and the road I blindly took to get away from the wrong destination took me almost directly to Leamington. But still, what a tired, hungover prick.
Because I'd gone the wrong way I ended up driving past the impressive
Kenilworth Castle. I don't remember ever having seen it before, but there's every chance I have been through here on another tour or as a child, when I lived relatively locally (Loughborough between ages of 4 and 8). I was obsessed with castles then and was thinking of the one at Ashby-de-la-Zouche which used to be the half way point between Cheddar and Middlesbrough (where my grandparents live) in the days when a five hour drive seemed to take half a life time.
I don't remember this castle, which I only saw in passing, but is massive. And yet as I drove by it seemed the road and the view was familiar from a recurring dream. Had I dreamt about it despite never having been here? Or more likely been here, forgotten about it, and then dreamed about it? Or even more likely not even dreamed about it, just been here?
It gave me a weird sense of deja vu, and chancing across all this because of an idiotic accident gave me the temporary feeling that something significant or terrible was about to occur.
But it didn't.
Because it probably wasn't deja vu, or only in the sense that I had probably already seen it. But weird that I entered a world between dream and reality for a few moments.
I didn't have time to look round the castle, which would have annoyed my younger castle obsessed self.
I was playing in the
Royal Spa Centre in Leamington, which sounded very grand, but I was just in a small slightly dilapidated cinema and instead of a dressing room had an unlocked area next to the toilets, which was filled with loads of reels and loose bits of film. It wasn't quite as un-showbiz as a bogey on a shower curtain, but it was close. I don't know if anyone Royal had ever been in this venue - I somehow doubted it, but I had some fun pointing out the disparity between my expectations and the reality in what was a solid gig.
I felt tired on stage which is an unusual occurrence and I feel even more tired now. I had another sense of deja vu as I sat in the hotel bar, drinking alone. But that's mainly because I was doing exactly the same thing two weeks ago.
If there's blue cloth in the orange juice in the morning then I will be quite freaked out. But my hotel experiences since have made me nostalgic for cloth in the orange juice. That seems luxurious compared with some of the things I've had to endure.
Hoping for a sleep in and wondering if next door will wake me up at 6.15. I might turn on my TV now (it's midnight and the businessmen are asleep) and turn it up to 11 in order to get my revenge in first.
Also in my tiredness I have annoyingly forgotten to bring the cable that connects my iPhone to my computer with me. I'll have to buy another one if I want to sync or charge my phone after tomorrow. Goddamn Collings for getting me drunk - those things are stupidly expensive! Everyone's after a bit of Herring - even though it's nearly always my fault that I end up out of pocket.
