on the road

Last Thursday morning I started the car up and headed north. A long, leisurely drive up the M6 with Emma Purshouse so the two of us could do a gig in Gatehouse of Fleet in SW Scotland. It was good to be back out on the road, gigging – a reminder of what I enjoyed doing so much, before the pandemic put something of a kibosh on the live poetry scene. And yes, live gigs are back, but this was still something of a novelty. And it was worth every moment. The people at the Bakehouse – our venue that Thursday evening – were as welcoming as ever; the audience turned up, laughed and applauded when we’d hoped they would, and went home with books; all of us were reminded of the wonderful, magical power of live poetry. Nights don’t come much better than that.

Next day, we ran a poetry workshop, enjoyed a delicious lunch, packed our bags, thanked our hosts, and headed back down the M6. But only as far as Morecambe, where we were breaking our journey with a last-minute, pay-as-you-feel poetry gig at the West End Playhouse, before hopping back in the car and back to the Black Country. Two gigs (and a workshop) in two days. And a lot of road miles. It really did feel like old times.

Here’s to more of the same.