We wake to a warm, pleasant morning at Protestival after fairly restrained post-gig drinks (well, one of us had been last to leave the fire pit but it was restrained by our standards).
Connections Forged
Fearing breakfast may be done and dusted, we hasten to the kitchen tent. But there’s no need to panic: a help-yourself spread of tasty treats is available well into the morning. More importantly, ‘Flapjack Phil’ is up and running with his stall serving teas, coffees and – indeed – flapjacks. He also happens to live in Carmarthen, where we’ll be performing in a week’s time. So, contact details are swapped and promises to meet made.
Over breakfast and coffee, several similar connections are forged and one conversation leads to another. After some time, Rob decides we should perhaps be thinking about packing down and making our way home. Having struck his tent and stowed everything on his bike, he returns to find me still chatting away to anyone who’ll listen… and several who don’t.
Interesting Characters
Eventually, I relent and head up the hill to fetch my gear. Of course, our tent is next to a water point. So, a succession of campers come to fill their containers. And all are interesting characters. Meaning it takes a good hour before I’m ready to join Rob ready for the off. Naturally, our laden bikes spark interest from other cycle-based festival goers. Leading to further coffees and more conversation.
A Bit Much
Finally, we tear ourselves away. Ignoring our friend Spinner’s advice to take an alternative route, we head back the way we’d come. Which takes us straight up a deceptively long and steep climb (we were warned). Fortunately, this is sheltered from the heat by trees. But, from a standing start, it’s a bit much ‘first thing’.
The rest of the journey is uneventful and we’re soon home in time for a little pre-tour prep. Although the music tour is already underway, the main cycle journey begins after our Fringe show at the Rondo. So, we have time to ready our bikes, instruments and bodies for the test to come. But before that, we have a Sunday-afternoon gig at The Grapes in Bath.
Social Hub
The Grapes used to be a rather dour, city pub. It was adorned with fruit machines and TV screens showing betting shows masquerading as sports. The beers on offer were mass-produced and un-loved. As, I suspect, were many of the unfortunate souls who took refuge there.
After a tasteful refit and under new ownership, the pub has since evolved into a vibrant social hub, with regular live music, DJs, attentive staff and a fine range of beers and ciders. Our dear friend Ellie handles the music, booking high-quality, original, local acts, as well as running folk and jazz sessions. It’s always a joy to play there and this time is no exception.
No Need To Fear
Initially, I’m concerned. To be honest, I’ve not pushed this gig at all. I know The Grapes pulls a regular crowd and have been focussing my marketing efforts on this week’s Fringe show at The Rondo. As we set up, the place is near empty, so I wonder whether I’ve underestimated the need to do more.
But there’s no need to fear. As usual, people appear in time for the 4pm start. Some have read about us in the Fringe program (this also being a Bath Fringe gig); others were just passing and others still would have known there’d be something good here on a Sunday. There always is.
Pretend Friends
Whilst one punter berates us for our less than punctual start, the staff here are very relaxed and the vibe is predominantly laissez-faire. Our complainant doesn’t stick around long in any case, so we’re not sure what his beef was. The rest of the pub quickly comes onside, listening with intent and responding in all the right places.
Just before the break, a new group arrives. They are instantly engaged with our performance and clearly taken with the material. During the break, we discover they are members of the band Pretend Friends, who’ve just come over after playing at The Bell on Walcott Street. We quickly establish a rapport (at least, we think we’ve made friends…) and they take up positions at a table in time for the second half. Evidently, they’d played a binder at The Bell, so it’s nice to provide them with some entertainment as they wind down.
Time a-Plenty
It being a sunny afternoon, we don’t dally after our performance. Instead, we make our way home for some nourishing home-cooked grub, curtesy of my wonderful wife and her allotment. This – as someone pointed out to me at the bar on the first night of Shindig – is a marathon, not a sprint. There’ll be time a-plenty for revelry as the tour progresses…