To Brussels’ Magasin 4, on the first leg of the tour, via Dalston, Dover and a Peugeot 207 so¬†cramped with gear that sound engineer George Bush and I share one-and-a-half seats in the back. Legs cramping up. Too old for this. The welcome from Didier the promoter, the good people of the venue and the support act Cobson, brighten the spirits. The show is a bit shambolic, but highly entertaining, and business at the merch. stall is brisk. Also brisk is our load out, leading to my forgetting to pick up the bag containing the 7″ vinyl. Twenty-two years of touring and I forgot one of the basic rules:

1. You do not shit in the tour bus toilet
2. You do not fuck with someone if they’re asleep in their bunk
3. You always check the venue for stuff you might have forgotten, like boxes of vinyl

Luckily someone’s at the venue to open up in the morning and I don’t need to live with the embarrassment for the rest of the tour.

Next stop: Paris.

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