Gigspanner in the North

Well, my shredded throat recovered just about enough to travel into the frozen wastelands of the north at the weekend and it's been a long series of have-to-dos since (Monday - back to work knackered, Tuesday Hamoaze Band rehearsal, Wednesday recording recipes for Insight Radio...), hence the short hiatus in drivel for the last few days.

Perhaps this blog is finally living up to it's name and becoming more "ish" than "Daily" - that's fine by me; after all it's the quality that counts not the quantity and you'll know by now that you can rely on the finest quality nonsense and banalities from these pages.

So - a quick catch up.

The reason for our visit northwards to the ice-city of Bath was to see the ever-effervescent Gigspanner on the second date of their autumn tour of this sceptred isle.

I've raved about the groovy Gigspanner Guys many a time before and so I'll decline so to do this time, suffice to say the gig was well worth the couple of hours on the train on its own.

But, of course, the gig was not "on its own"; somehow a Gigspanner event has become the peg to hang friends' gatherings upon. And the weekend just gone was no exception.

Mrs The Millbrooker and I were royally treated at BathNick's city centre residence to a yummy chicken and chorizo glop and a bottle of jolly decent red stuff before the gig and when we assembled in the venue itself, our table and seats had been carefully chosen by the High Lord of Southwick and the Lady Calluna themselves. 

Here we are L-R around the table: a minor folding of my arms, Her Ladyship, His Highness, BathNick and new-to-being-blogged-and-soon-to-visit-Millbrook-we-hope Sarah.

Post gig, a slightly later-than-it-should-have-been pint or three at Bath's smallest pub, the Coeur de Lion, and we had to say our goodbyes to BathNick as he wended his way homeward. This is the Coeur de Lion on a rare warm summer's day in these arctic climes, photo shamelessly nicked from the pub's website.

The following morning brought something of a shock.....but perhaps that should be another story. No, dammit - who knows when I'll find a few minutes to blether on again?.... Here's what the following morning brought for us. This was shortly before nine of the clock in the ante meridian as I was sent from the lovely warm bed into the cool of the kitchen to make the all-important first cup of tea of the morning.

I think it might interest some readers to know that, having just emerged from bed, I shot this without the use of trousers or pants. Try not to think of that as you enjoy this video.



The white stuff settled for a while, but thawed pretty quickly too, sorry Keynsham - I was told that Keynsham flooded in the melt, but as Keynsham floods when someone leaves a tap running for more than 2 minutes, that was hardly surprising really.

Sunday brought us a yummy lunch in the Bunch of Grapes at Bradford on Avon (the choice of birthplace for many of the best people - the town, that is, not the pub) in the company of the esteemed nobility of Southwick and Holt, but I neglected to take any photos so this is the outside of the pub (photo shamelessly nicked etc etc...)

So - that was our weekend; hope yours was a decent one as well...until next time....