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Sunday 11th May 2008

So I woke up in a town called Helmsley this morning. It was seven or eight miles from the gig and I had arrived here under the dark of night to stay in a B&B booked by the venue, so I really had no idea where I was.
I was in danger of doing a Dave Gorman (not seeking out everyone with my name, but driving a car until it runs out of petrol - see the enjoyable America Unchained for details), as I hadn't filled up at the last garage I had seen and had then had to drive through petrol station free countryside, but luckily there was a petrol station almost opposite , so I wasn't stuck in Yorkshire.
As I drove away from the town I saw a rather striking castle off on the outskirts. It was a surprise, though I don't know why, because I knew nothing about where I was, so had no preconceptions about what would be here. The sky as blue and the sun was shining and I considered driving up there to have a look around. But with a five hour journey ahead of me I decided to press on. Which I regret now.
When I am touring there I seem to operate on a philosophy of get in and get out as soon as possible - most places I will arrive after sunset and leave immediately after the gig and see nothing at all. Today I had to be home by the evening, but had plenty of time to make my way down the country. But still the ethos of pressing onwards overwhelmed my more romantic desires to amble round the grounds of a ruin in the Spring sunshine.
I could also have popped over to
Castle Howard. I had driven through part of the grounds yesterday, passing through elaborate gate houses and by a big needle style statue, that had made me feel like I was about to enter the world of the Prisoner or be abducted by the Masons.
But I pressed onwards, heading south, learning nothing about where I had been.
I enjoyed the drive though - there were no real hold ups and the sun was shining and I listened to the radio. I casually started playing CNPS again, though was doing it properly old school and not including any of the blasphemous new number plates. Evenso I was up to 6 by the end of the day. I hope I don't get sucked back into that soul destroying whirlwind though. It would take forever to finish it for a second time, with so few 20th century cars on the road.
Like with chocolate and alcohol I feel I can control it now and just play it occasionally. Fast forward to me stumbling crapulously down the road, a hard coating of chocolate smeared all over my face like a Minstrel minstrel, my eyes focused just above the gutter, cursing the decision to update the number plate system.
It won't happen.



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