I had arrived in Morecambe last night after night fall, so knew nothing of the town that I was performing in. This is not an unusual experience of touring. The first time I went to Montreal I was there for a week but only saw the hotel, the flat we were filming "Festival of Fun" in and a couple of comedy clubs. We may have also gone out to one restaurant. I couldn't tell you anything about Montreal, even though I went back the next year too (though my touring options were cut down as we actually filmed that series in the hotel as well).
This morning as we left the sun was shining brightly and Morecambe was illuminated for all to see. We drove down the road from the hotel to the sea and the sea looked absolutely beautiful. Blue and clear. But there was no time to stop and look at it or swim in its freezing depths. We had a five or six hour drive ahead of us.
It's a life of travelling everywhere and seeing nothing.
We didn't get to pass the Eric Morecambe statue again, but I'm pretty sure in all the photos I've seen it faces away from the sea. Yet last night as I passed (with admittedly a fair amount of Guinness sloshing around in me) I was sure that it was facing the water.
It would be a more effective and poignant tribute if my inebriated memory is right, turning Morecambe into more of a Christ like figure, about to walk on the crashing waves, but it was probably just my drunken fancy.
Or possibly the Morecambe statue is on a little mechanism which turns it 180 degrees at night fall. Partly for the poetry, but mainly to fuck with the heads of the many alcoholics who wander the promenade in the winter time.
