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A day or two in the Fairport Van. Or what feels sometimes like Meet on the Sledge.

writes:

Day 9: much excitement as we woke up to find that last night's grisly warnings of
total breakdown of national infrastructure due to "unseasonal conditions" e.g.
a cold snap and a bit of snow might lead to, gasp,difficulties getting to,
or even cancellation of, the WESTON SUPER MARE gig.

Drawing the curtains of my carpark-overlooking room in Worthing, I could
see seagulls industriously breaking into crab carcasses in what, I can only
describe realistically as, a mild drizzle.

The TV and the news-based radio channels were doing their best to make it into an apocalyptic event, and to be fair, there were a few travellers out
there marginally inconvenienced by this random meteorological event which had
closed a few roads, shut a few runways and caused a number of correspondents to
the Daily Mail to sharpen their green biros and fire off outraged letters about
the lack of adequate provision of road salt by local councils. All beginning with the time-honoured mantra "why oh why..."

We got there without incident, but also without a proper lunch stop, so
intimidated by the alarmism of the hour.

Day 14: morning in Runcorn, mid-week in a light sleet.

One of the local house crew had tipped us off about a "really good guitar shop" in town.

So, after breakfast here we were walking the drear streets with their numerous cafes and charity shops, when suddenly there was Frailers' broad shopfront.

It was blazing with light and an unfeasible number of desirable guitars of all imaginable styles, and masses of banjos, ukuleles and mandolins with every other square inch of wall space covered in US country-bilia: photos, sheet music, 50's adverts for musical instruments. It was:a veritable feast for the eyes.

Not being in the market for any more guitars, I chatted for a while with Frank, the proprietor and met a man totally at home with his life/hobby/job.

He makes about ten trips a year to the States to do deals, keep in the swim of the guitar retail trade, and doubtless collect more collectables.

And I'll tell you something else, there was not so much as a shaky egg or a tambourine for Gerry to consider, but after half an hour, he's set his mind on buying a guitar!

If you'll forgive me, things are changing for him and Jacqui, there's going to be a musical instrument in their house at last!