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A short hop from Torrington to Exeter. I wasn’t sad to leave my slightly sad pub bedroom behind. The shower didn’t work and the place hadn’t been decorated since deep into the last century. But it’s far from the worst place I’ve ever stayed in on tour. Apparently the landlady had only taken over the pub four weeks ago and hadn't been aware that we'd booked in. They only have two rooms. I don't think this is a huge part of their business.
Perhaps we should have done the drive last night and had two nights in an Exeter hotel, but then we’d have missed the nightlife of Torrington and perhaps Ray had done enough driving yesterday.
I had plans to get on with the much writing that I still have to do, but I have got good at understanding when I am too mentally exhausted to work. I had a nap at the hotel and then frittered away the afternoon, playing computer games and gambling online (I won £173 and was very unlucky not to make more after a bad beat on poker). I mean, don’t worry, I am not going back to the bad old days of the early 2000s where I frittered time and money online, attempting to fill the soul-shaped hole in the centre of my body, but only making it bigger. But it felt like the right thing to do today. I was tired and sad to be away from home. I saw my family on FaceTime playing in the garden and calling me “Poo Poo Daddy†(it’s terrible that my mother-in-law talks to me that way - and she was just the teachers). Absence makes the heart grow sadder. But how lucky are we to live in a time when you can connect with your family however far away you are?
And an idle day was exactly what was needed and I had way more energy tonight as a result. There were just over 300 in tonight at the Northcott Theatre and they were more up for my inappropriate rudeness than the last two slightly more genteel crowds.
I am not sure when I will tour again, but I am learning some things about doing this job in my 50s. In my early 40s I realised it was counter-productive to drive myself to all the gigs (which luckily came at a point where sales were good enough to let me employ a tour manager). In my mid-30s I could drive to Yorkshire and back in the same day and then head to Bristol and back the next day and it didn’t really knock me sideways, but now, even being driven by someone else, a five hour+ journey is going to affect the show. But it’s also not reasonable or desirable to be attempting to complete two writing projects at the same time as I scoot up and down the country.
If I tour again it will have to be at a time when all I am doing is touring. I am too old to hold down three jobs at once (four if you include the series of podcasts that I’ve also completed during the run). Self-employed people will know how hard it is to turn down work and sometimes you can’t. Also if you’ve struggled to make ends meet, then there’s something inside you that pushes you on to keep working when the work is there. But I am making a good enough living that I can afford to be selective. And if I am on tour, then I want to be performing as well as possible. Today’s day of rest meant I was able to do one of my current jobs properly. Even if the peril of getting my other two jobs done increased.
As we’re now recording the sitcom in late June rather than early May the pressure has been greatly relieved in any case. I am sure I would have done it by May if I had to, but it would have been a much less pleasant experience.
Anyway, I had a nice day and a joyous gig full of laughter and cheekiness. And then had another drink with Welsh Ray. He was keen to watch the fight on TV and went to buy his round just as it started. When he got back the fight had finished.
No one ran into any walls, though a woman did turn up who was covered in red paint. So there’s still mystery to be had in late night drinking in the city. Exeter seems nice. But I only really saw my hotel room and the venue this time. This is what it’s like on tour.
