Porthcawl Grand Pavilion Sat April 2nd

The plan was to head back to Wetherspoons at 8.00am for breakfast today, but a terrible night’s sleep means that I’m glued to my bunk, and that’s the case pretty much all the way to Porthcawl. I feel as if I’ve been drugged, and just cannot seem to stir myself, at least until I get in the shower. As I slough off the carapace of crud that has enveloped me for the past thirty-odd hours, I feel invigorated and finally ready to face the day. Yet another seaside town, and today it’s blessed with bright sunshine and even a soupcon of warmth from the old currant bun, though there’s a wind which finds it’s way into your every cranny ( I said cranny ) if you’re standing in the wrong place. Despite my dulcet gorblimeyguvnor tomes, I actually hail from the north – east, and it’s thus that I fully appreciate the kindred spirits we see on the Esplanade today. In Newcastle we used to say that you could always tell when winter was on it’s way as the girls started to leave their coats at home when they went out for a night on the lash, and it’s exactly the same here….I’m leaning on the seawall talking to Arthur and Steve with the sleeves of my fleece pulled over my poor little paws to stop them from freezing, when some young thing in a vest tip and shorts enthusiastically suggests to her mates that they “ buy some cans of Coke and go and drink them on the beach “. Not only is the very sight of her in this scanty clothing enough to give me hypothermia, but I’m sure I saw a polar bear on the beach earlier on…..Porthcawl is actually quite a cool little place, at least at this end of town…the “ real “ beach is back around the headland with the funfair, Kiss Me Quick hats and daytripping families from Cardiff and Newport, all shaven heads, straining rugby shirts and casual domestic violence. The only time the pleasant Spring ambience is broken comes when a load of wannabe Hells Angels on Harleys thunder along the front, their intimidating exterior somewhat mollified by the realisation that, on closer inspection, more than a few of them are of pensionable age. ( Slight linguistic diversion….what would be the collective noun for a group of bikers ? A leather ? A shitload ? An unwashed ? A wheelie ? ). Inside the venue everything is calm efficiency, except that acoustically it has all the warmth and sonic beauty of a municipal swimming baths. It’s an odd, domed, hexagonal room, and when you clap your hands under the dome it sounds as if it’s right above your head….but move a few feet back and it’s shifted way to the right. It’s thus a longer soundcheck than normal as Arthur summons all his skill and experience to make this work. We’ve used the venue’s own PA system which, whilst adequate, isn’t really helping maters much, and for a very brief while we toy with the idea of putting our own PA in, but as there’s only an hour to doors we realise this just isn’t going to be feasible. Arthur wears the expression of a man who knows he’s going to be on turd-polishing duty tonight, but if anyone can get this place to sound good, he can. The longer soundcheck means that we have to eat almost on the hoof tonight; Nick and I manage to get into recommended local chippy Beale’s seconds before it’s inundated with the aforementioned daytrippers, whose children all seem to bear such farcical names as Turrock, Cheyenne, and Cody. We get back and the crew convene at stage left to wolf down our dinner. It’s the penultimate show of the tour tonight, but there’s another reason for celebration too, as it’s Junior’s 31st birthday. None of us could believe this as he looks about 15, but it’s true. He’s growing a Tour Beard which at least adds a couple of years to his boyish visage, but which, coupled with his flowing locks, also makes him look disconcertingly like Jesus. VERY useful on those road crew prayer meeting sessions we have each morning, mind…….We’ve marked the occasion with one of those jolly little helium balloons which we’ve moored to his monitor desk, and during the course of the show I look across the stage several times to wonder who the strange moon-faced individual standing next to Junior is, until I finally make out “ Happy Birthday “ plastered across it’s mush. D’OH ! The show tonight is, to be totally honest, a bit below par…..nothing you could put your finger on and say “ THAT was wrong “ or “ HE cocked up “ but somehow it just doesn’t gel like previous nights. There’d been a bit of a discussion at soundcheck about harmony vocal lines and so some of them had changed, and maybe THAT’S what it was, but as ever, the only people who ever notice these things are the band and crew….as far as Joe and Josephine Punter are concerned they’re seeing a fantastic show, and they react accordingly. As with Blackwood, the singing on the last two songs is stunning, and the domed roof actually seems to amplify it, so it all gets a bit Cardiff Arms Park ( and yes, I KNOW it’s not there anymore, but
“ Millennium Stadium” is just SO naff ). South Wales has been great for us, and we make a mental note to ensure we come back next time around. After the show it’s our first long overnight drive for a few days….John will leave at 2.00am – ish and aim to get to the final show of the tour at Buxton around 7.00am, but for Arthur, Nick, Rodders and myself it’s into the vans and up the road to Bromsgrove. It’s not too far but feels much further as the long climb out of Wales involves more water – replenishing stops than we’d normally make, so it’s not until about 2.40am that we finally pull into a brand new Travelodge which is cunningly concealed behind a pub and a nondescript housing estate in one of the more nondescript parts of the nondescript little town that is Bromsgrove. In fact, it’s so new that Doris the SatNav doesn’t even acknowledge it’s existence, and would blithely have guided us hither and yon had not Eagle –Eyed Nick spotted the sign as we roared past. I gratefully slump into bed, and as I close my eyes I start to think about tomorrow being the last show, how quickly the tour seems to have gone and so on. I sleepily make a mental note that I must also remember to….zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz