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The ghost of our Air B n B failed to electrocute us or spike us on nails and so we left this morning in four pieces (which is acceptable as there were four of us). Though we nearly didn’t leave as I slightly miscalculated backing up the people carrier and turning round the people carrier and got caught up against the hedge. It’s a big lump of a car, but I should be used to it, but I do seem to have a problem with driving at very slow speeds, especially when reversing. I thought I might be caught on a gate post, but a hard reverse got us out lf the jam and there wasn’t even a scratch on the car so I think it was all hedge. Which is good as I’ve only had it for a month.
We had to make an early stop for Ernie to have a wee, which I didn’t mind as I needed one too and we weed in a bush behind a parking spot on a duel carriageway in another bonding moment. Later we’d stop at a petrol station so I could have another wee and everyone else stayed in the car. Within two minutes of us getting back on the road Ernie announced that he desperately needed a poo. Had that desperation emerged in the last 120 seconds or might he have had an inkling when we were parked up near an actual (quite horrible) toilet. He was being a parody of a 5 year old. Nonetheless we were in no rush and he managed to hold things until we got to the next service station, where everyone else in the car went for a wee. By the time they were back in the car I felt like I could go again, but was too ashamed to admit it after the fuss I’d made about Ernie’s late call on his ablutions. He’s just learning to control his excretions and I am getting to the point where mine will be beyond my powers. It’s the circle of life.
But I held on til I got home with almost entirely unsoiled pants.
During that stop I got a tweet from someone who told me that their friend was very excited because they were on the same train as me, but they were too scared to approach me. For a second I wondered if I was somehow also on a train or if I was not myself, but quickly settled on the conclusion that the friend had mistaken someone for me. The tweeter later sent me a WhatsApp exchange where the friend had said she’d overheard me talking about a production I was involved in. This should have been the giveaway, but I am glad that one of the many fake Richard Herrings out there is doing better at this job than I am. At least one of the fake Herrings actually pretended to be me when approached by a fan at a music festival - he even agreed to a photo and was smiling his face off knowing that at some point his subterfuge would be discovered (mainly because he didn’t look like me - he didn’t even look like Charley Boorman, that’s how bad he was). It’s slightly unsettling to have so many cases of mistaken identity, but I guess there are a lot of chubby long-haired men with facial hair out there. I just hope one of them doesn’t commit a terrible crime or use his undoubted sexiness to seduce one of my fans.
Actually I hope he does that. Someone should be getting some for my prodigious and wonderful work.
