Edmonton Millfield Theatre, Mon & Tues March 7th & 8th

…….so we’re limping the damaged van back from Marlborough to London where we’re hoping to get it looked at. Me and Arthur are nervously watching the temperature gauge and Nick’s riding shotgun behind us in case something falls off or we blow up, but to our surprise we get all the way from Marlborough to High Wycombe with no real trouble. We drop Arthur off and I head for Edmonton, where we’ll be parking the bus and van outside the venue tonight. Alas, the van clearly doesn’t like me, as within about two miles of the M25 the temperature suddenly shoots up into the red. Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever done that “ broken down in the early hours on a deserted road “ thing, but it’s not to be recommended. Time to make a choice….carry on round the M25 and risk seized engines and certain death from boiled – over radiators, or head down the A40 into London and try and crawl to a garage where the van can cool down and have a soothing bucket of water or two. I take the A40 path, and it’s the right one….I just make it to a garage where the van gasps and wheezes like a constipated warthog for a while before allowing me to unscrew the radiator cap without disappearing in a cloud of scalding steam. In goes a bit more water, and off we go again. Clearly the van had given it’s all on the first part of the journey, because before I’ve even got as far round the North Circular as Finchley it’s going all thermo-nuclear on me again. I spot a garage and pull in, but quickly notice the big black mentalist in the hoodie that’s stalking around the forecourt shouting and waving at imaginary dragons or something. Rather fearing that he may indulge in a spot of light murder if I get out of the van, I swiftly head out again. Luckily there’s another garage just down the road, where the van crawls panting into a far corner, and I let it cool down fully whilst staring out at the darkened windows of Finchley for what seems like and hour and a half, but was, in fact, only ninety minutes.
I slake the beast’s thirst with about forty gallons of H20, and once again set off for Edmonton, now thankfully only a few miles distant. As we’ve got a day off after Marlborough the Millfield folks had very kindly agreed to let us come in a day early and use their facilities, so the plan had been to park the bus and van outside the theatre as and then go in early tomorrow, but when I get there the road seems to have been turned into some kind of display showroom for things that stop you doing other things….there are bollards, double yellows, a “ use this and you die “ red route, towing and clamping signs and the road itself actually seems to have been narrowed, too…all that’s missing is an armed guard with a Rocket Propelled Grenade launcher. I find a side road that’s neither mined, fenced off or otherwise protected by weaponry, and park up to wait for John. It’s quiet. Very quiet, sort of “ only person in the world “ kind of quiet. It’s very, very.very cold, too. I put on my coat, hat and gloves, and looking like Nanook of The North step out into Silver Street to look for the bus and give John the good news about No Parking World. It’s now 4.30am, and within about two minutes the fatigue is kicking in and I’m cold, miserable and wondering if that shelf – stacking job at Kettering Asda’s is still open, but luckily John comes round the corner just at that moment, and even more luckily we manage to get the bus tucked in behind the van, so I crawl, whimpering, into my little bunk and am asleep within seconds. When I wake up we’re inside the theatre grounds, John’s got the bus connected to the venue’s electricity, and we’re good to go. We still have to resolve the van issue, however, so today’s task, should we choose to accept it, is to take it to it’s “home” garage in Sandy to have it looked at. We duly jump in and head north to drop it off, then get picked up and taken home to Geddington for a night, where we have home cooking and, of course, the washing machine.. Next morning we jump a train back down to Sandy where, we hear, the van is apparently behaving itself. However, before we’re even on the A1M it’s starting to heat up again, and by the time we reach Potters Bar it’s in the red and we have to stop. This is Bad News. We’ve got some bottles of water on board for just such an eventuality, so at least we manage to get back to the theatre, but we need a Plan B, and quickly. In the meantime there’s the small matter of a sold-out show to do tonight, so we have to focus on that. Millfield is a great little theatre, and we had one of the best shows of the tour here last year, so expectations are high. Once again, though, the vagaries of this bizarre business of ours come to the fore. There’s nothing wrong with the show as such, and the audience reaction is as good as ever, but for those of us who see it every night we can tell that the band’s performance is slightly flat. It’s nothing you can put your finger on, just a lack of sparkle. Den’s had a headache constantly for the past four days or so, and is far from well, but it’s not just that. In fact, after the show someone makes the comment that the show suffered from “ day off syndrome”, where everyone just drops out of the groove for a bit, but it’s something we have to look out for….this has been going SO well that we don’t want any derailment now. In the auditorium, however, it’s business as usual as far as the crowd and theatre staff are concerned…they’re loud, partisan and totally up for it, and despite our internal misgivings about the night, it’s another winner ( in fact, within a matter of days the theatre will contact our agent with an offer for us to do TWO nights there in 2012.). As the house lights come up the audience file out in to the night, all happy, warm and fuzzy, doubtless looking forward to a nightcap and a soft, comfortable bed, but we’ve still got work to do….tomorrow we have to head to Harlow, and the van needs to go back the garage again, so we sit on the bus with the model cars on the table and try to work it out. It’s all a bit “ So if you drive to HERE in this van, and we meet you HERE in the other… “ but we think we’ve got a plan, though it involves staying here another night. Once more the Millfield boys come to our rescue and agree to let the bus stay here all powered up once more, so we make the cocoa, put on our jim-jams, dressing gowns and slippers, put the cat out and turn in for night…….