The Scones, The Sickness and the DVD Boxset

Well now, this is rather overdue isn't it.

If it's any consolation, I am writing this blog in my head pretty much all the time, the only problem comes when the internet in the places I'm staying costs more than the accommodation itself. Now, I know you can't read the blog from inside my head (that's a VERY good thing, believe me) but, trust me, it was HILARIOUS.

So, I've now been on tour for just over a month and would like to report that:

a) I am still alive (I think this is massively due to the high strength vitamin C I have been taking)

b) Joni the campervan is still alive (although she has given us a couple of scares)

c) I am still loving every second of it.

So far on our travels, we have been as far north as Paisley and as far south as Devon. Joni has been parked by the sea, by a gorgeous loch, and by some wheelie bins. Audiences have been, in equal measure, wonderful, kind, full of laughter, bonkers, unpredictable, baffled and surprised.

Today I am at home, in our little flat, squirrelled up in my little seat by the garden window. The cat is trying to get my attention to congratulate her on the killing of a dried leaf she has proudly brought in, and the sun is shining. I've been home since Monday evening and am off again tomorrow afternoon, heading for South Street in Reading. I have loved being at home for a little while- I get to see my husband, I get to remember how ridiculous my cat's behaviour is, I get to spend time on the allotment, and I get to eat warm food with real cutlery (although I did very much enjoy my Travelodge picnic involving eating crisps out of a tray I made from the lid of the cool box) There is something warming about being home, something magical about the chemistry of being back amongst familiar smells, waking up in my own bed, knowing what height the lightswitch is in the bathroom. I adore being here.

Having said that, I am enjoying being on tour far more than I ever anticipated. I am loving the adventure of it all- each day, each show, each minute of the show, is filled with unexpected surprises and treats. Turning up to each new place, the sound of Joni's engine babbling away like a happy tractor, hopping out to meet a new set of challenges and sights. The joy of the unknown has surpassed all expectations.

Now, if I wrote a blog about each place I'd been to, I'd be here until tomorrow evening, subsequently missing my journey down to Reading and, therefore, all my shows, so I am going to hit you with a list of top memorable moments. I would call them the 'highlights,' but that's not necessarily what they are.

1) In Morecambe, amidst the slightly apocolyptic weather on the seafront, my favourite teacher from primary school came to see my show. I think most of us have that teacher that we remember with huge fondness. Mrs Cornthwaite was mine. I felt giddy to see her- she looked exactly the same. I'd like to say that she thought I looked TOTALLY DIFFERENT to the bowl-haired, slightly crazy looking little girl with the thick glasses and the eyepatch, but sadly, this wasn't the case. We went out for dinner afterwards and ate mussels and talked and talked and talked. She bought me a selection of wonderful things for my allotment, and a new writing book. She remembered how I always loved to write and I was overwhelmed by this part of my past coming back and being so awesome.

2) Whilst sheltering from the rain in Williamson Park in Lancaster, two members of my audience from the day before came back to visit me and bring me homemade scones and tea in between shows. With homemade gooseberry jam. And a BABY (that was their baby, they weren't giving him to me as a gift- that would've been far too much) I was so touched by this and we sat and ate the surprise picnic in Joni while the Lancaster rained bashed the windows and made us feel like it was somehow November all over again.

3) In Taunton, a man asked me if he could bring his girlfriend into the show with him. He hadn't been able to get her a ticket and asked if I could 'squeeze her in,' possibly sitting on his knee. I had to explain that this wasn't really like going on a normal car journey, and that the whole '5 people at once' thing wasn't me being decadent, that is the ABSOLUTE MAXIMUM of people that can physically fit into Joni.

4) In Paisley, I saw a shop called 'MENACE- Continental Childrenswear.' That made me laugh for a long time.

5) In Harrogate, I overheard the following conversation in a toilet:

Lady 1) " Ooh, it smells nice in here, doesn't it?"
Lady 2) "Ooh yes, it does. 'Cause they don't often smell nice do they, toilets.."

JOY

6) In Lancaster, I had to get out of the camper about 4 minutes into the show to be violently sick. For a while, I think the audience thought it was part of the show, as I announced it very politely and calmly, but had they been able to hear my inner monologue, they would have heard me screaming QUICK! GET OUT OF MY WAY! I AM DEFINITELY GOING TO BE SICK AND I REALLY DON'T WANT TO DO IT IN HERE AS THAT WILL BE MASSIVELY TRAUMATIC FOR EVERYONE INVOLVED AND I WILL NEVER GET IT OUT OF THE CARPET.'

Needless to say, that is the last time I will be eating seafood in between shows.

It is also, hopefully the last time I will ever leave an entirely undigested mussel on the pavement outside a city centre Travelodge.

7) Also in Lancaster, I found myself standing in the street with 50 other people, most of whom were pensioners, wearing my Superman pyjamas. This was due to an unplanned fire alarm test. Thank goodness I wasn't wearing the cape. I may have had to explain to them all that I couldn't help, and the cape was purely aesthetic.

8) On the way home to London last week, Joni broke down. Three times. I spent most of the day on the hard shoulder of the M6, it took 14 hours to get from Lancashire to London and we arrived on the back of a tow truck. This was a really awful day and not one I want to go into too much as the anxiety fuelled weeping may kick in again.
Panic not, we figured out what the problem was and Joni went into Campervan Hospital for a day, but it did make me aware all over again about how owning a classic VW is truly a labour of love. I wouldn't have it any other way- I'm in this for the rough and the smooth, and it made me realise how precious Joni is to me and how much of a commitment it is to own her. I would say that she is now purring like a kitten, but that is a sound you are never going to hear coming from a VW. Think 'old man leopard with a cough.'

9) In Taunton, an audience member popped back the next day and left a chilli plant by Joni, for me to find. She had grown it in her own garden and wanted to give it to me for the allotment. Again, I was extremely touched by this lovely gesture. Although I do now feel a massive responsibility to not accidentally kill it by spraying it with Flash Kitchen Cleaner.

10) Over the last 2 weeks, I have watched the entirety of series one of 'Downton Abbey.'

I know that's nothing to do with the show. I just really, really liked it.