What time's the coach?

Well, I’m back then … Back to real life with a resounding bump! (

The last concert in Stuttgart was another good one – just as well really to round off the tour!  It was followed by a wee party thrown by Neville which was a great chance to really get round and natter with lots of people, have a drink, take photos, have a drink etc etc.  I suddenly realised that this was probably the last time I would be singing Mozart Requiem with Neville (apart from the Birmingham concert) so decided to ask him to sign my score, which he did (thank you very much).  All I can say is at least I got him to sign a score which belongs to me, and not one which actually belongs to the Academy and that I believe I conducted myself with decorum and didn’t say anything daft to someone “so famous …” Those who were present will understand these veiled comments, but I won’t be any more specific here!

The wee party decamped to the hotel bar (surprise, surprise) and definitely included some dancing and another late night – but then what the hell – the coach wasn’t due to take us to the airport until 1500 so there would be a chance for a lie in.  Or maybe not … Who’s idea was it to get up early to say goodbye to the Belgian members of the chorus who had taxis booked for 0915?  We waved them off and thought about going back to bed, but the lure of breakfast was too much, so spent a good couple of hours stoking up for the day (just as well we did as we didn’t get anything apart from a paltry bag of crisps on the plane …).  The day passed quickly and before we knew it we were off to the airport; the mood incredibly subdued, as it always is when a tour comes to an end.

I got back to the flat opened my suitcase, closed my suitcase – I just didn’t have the strength to consider the implications of unpacking / re-packing to move back into my house this weekend and after defrosting a Bolognese from the freezer went to bed!

So, back to life means a return to the old melancholy it would seem: being back at work is much as I expected, but I really must stick to my resolution that I work my hours (how many years have I been saying that in different jobs); I’ve come down with the “Tour cold”, which I hope will have gone by the 28th …; and I’ve still got flippin’ swollen ankles!  Ah well, maybe once I’m back in the house and unpacked and have caught up on sleep I’ll start feeling better – either way the biggest smile I’ve had since I came back was when I got a text from Ali saying “What time’s the coach?”