Gentle start to the day. Slept well, I think, after a v busy day yesterday including cancellation dramas on the rail network and accidentally being shown to the bar reserved for Paul McCartney’s family and friends. Free beer and crisps though the promoter soon realised there had been a mistake and we were instead moved to the private bar at the back of the main auditorium.
Back upstairs to the reserved VIP seats, many of which remained empty until just before Paul appeared on stage at which point the family and friends emptied out of the bar and into the seats around us.
Rob Brydon appeared with Paul on stage to do the interviewing in a fireside chat that lasted over two hours. We got an insight into how each song on the Boys of Dungeon Lane album was written. All in all a great evening. We felt privileged to be there.
The queue outside stretched pretty much along the road to Camden Lock. Maybe a third of a mile. In the rain. We walked, with no embarrassment whatsoever, to the front of the line and joined the very small queue to pick up our guest list tickets. One person we spoke with over the barrier had been queueing since six am. There was a slight feeling of annoyance coming in one direction. Water off a ducks back tbh. They will have secured good seats near the front of the stage for their efforts.
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Bit of a surreal life really. Last night it was the Paul McCartney gig. Breakfast this morning with THG and our Tom at Lumi in Camden. Chose it because of its google ratings. Yanow what? It really lived up to expectations. If I get a chance I’ll add to the reviews.
Anyway, today I’m meeting a woman from Australia in a trendy caff in Shoreditch to talk about Carmarthenshire in the eighteenth century. In fact about a baptist church called Hebron. Doesn’t come more niche than this. I am quite excited about it. No idea what she looks like. And don’t worry THG knows what I’m doing.
Then it’s the CCUK council meeting followed no doubt by a couple of refreshing beverages before rolling the dice on the train network for the journey home. Tomorrow it is cricket at Trent Bridge but tomorrow is another day…