I haven’t got an idea in my head for a story

I admit it’s been ages since I blogged – 4 weeks in fact and I will let you know what I’ve been up to in instalments otherwise its going to be a bloomin’ long blog! However, headline information is that I’ve been ‘doing’ lots. Some stuff I’ve wanted to do and some of it I didn’t and I’ve just not been able to get my head into a position where things started forming words that I could put down on paper / blog space.  

In fact, in spite of several comments over the weeks about my lack of blogging it wasn’t until I was driving home from work tonight that I started feeling like things were slotting into place and that I might stand a chance of writing it down.  This was mainly because I was thinking of the Shark’s comment yesterday on my last post and all of a sudden I heard Dinah Sheridan in my head saying “I haven’t got an idea in my head for a story, so I’m afraid there won’t be buns for tea for quite sometime.”  

This is a quote from the Lionel Jeffries 1970 film adaptation of E. Nesbit’s The Railway Children which I love, and from which I have the terrible habit of being able to find a quote for most situations ... Mum and I saw the film loads of time at the cinema because when it first came out we were moving around a lot – Dad in the forces etc – and every time we got to a new camp that was the film on in the camp cinema, we seemed to follow it around!  Curious that I’ve never got myself the video or DVD – note to self to add it to my amazon wish list!

Anyway, as soon as I heard Dinah, I suddenly seemed to be able to break the last 4 weeks down and by the time I had arrived home I had sketched out several blog instalments in my head which I will post over the next few days and hope don’t bore you all to death!

In the meantime, some of the Railway Children lines which seem to find their way into my head fairly regularly for some bizarre reason …

Perks: “I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as a buttercup without it were a buttercup”

Perks:  “Perks must be about it”

Peter:  “Why’s it going so slow Mr Perks?”  (About a train coming through Oakworth Station)
Perks: “Well … its all up hill to Scotland int it”

Perks:  “Never mind the rain ladies, it’s only a shower” (it p**** is down …)

Phyllis:  “Is that blood, is that red blood, is he all killed?”

Cart Man:  “I dare say …”

Bobbie:  “It's Perks' birthday, he's 42, he says he got other things to keep than his birthday, not rabbits and secrets but the kids and the bloomin' missus.”
Mother:  “Wife and children Bobbie.”  
Bobbie:  “Same thing isn't it?”  
Phyllis:  “Bloomin' missus is a sort of a germ of endearment isn't it?”  

Bobbie: There's going to be a paperchase tomorrow. Phyllis:  Whippee! Bobbie:  The boys from the grammar school are doing it. Phyllis:  Zippee! Bobbie:  Perks says we can go by the ramp. Phyllis:  What's a paperchase?

And finally …

Bobbie:  “Daddy, my Daddy”  (cue lump in throat and general bubbling)

A new view

I'm still in boxes and what's not in boxes has been put away in no particular order there's also a suitcase somewhere with sheets and towels in, but goodness knows where. However, I'm getting there and enjoying getting everything the way I like it and am particularly looking forward to alphabeticising my cds and books – no surprises there I’m sure!

After a week of head scratching and chilly mornings I've now fathomed out the timer for the central heating; its not terrible sophisticated, on or off basically, but at least I know how it doesn't work now I've found the flippin' instruction book.

I know I should prioritise getting stuff done in doors - its bloomin' cold out at the moment after all - and I've really got to stop 'treating myself'; but as I sit here in my favourite chair (yes I got to bring it with me) looking at my new double aspect view - a lovely skylight from which I can see the clouds scudding hectically across the sky and my back garden (well back yard really!) which has a pile of empty pots in it left by the previous tenant - I'm really fancying planting a load of them up so I've got a progression of colours, scents and textures to look forward to over the next months. I'll hopefully be taking delivery of my pots from home sometime this week, so at least I'll have my summer stuff to look forward to, but I'm really going to have to resist the temptation to nip into the garden centre and buy a pre-planted pot of bulbs or two! I've treated myself enough already this month and it has to stop!

I got my desk from the house yesterday which I managed to dismantle, transport to the flat and then rebuild all by myself! I’m very chuffed about that because it’s a big old brute – the PPT would have been proud! So the plan for today (post blog) is to carry on emptying bags and boxes, have a spot of lunch, a soak in the bath and wash my hair - which can be straightened for the first time in weeks now that I’ve located the straightening irons(!) – and then head off for drinks, dinner and an old Deanna Durbin movie with a friend from work. What a lovely Sunday.

Motion away or motion towards?

I don't usually run away from things - well I don't think I do anyway. I kind of swing between a tendancy to stick with and battle with stuff longer than I should (my 14 years with the same employer would be a good example of that) or make myself tackle difficult stuff head on (my decision to take a job in a box office in my early 20s when I had a telephone phobia would be a good example of that). However, in retrospect I was beginning to wonder whether "run away" was what I did last weekend.

The ever pressing issue of TEH's living arrangements (or rather lack of them) hastened the need for me to find my own place and so, in a needs must kind of fashion, I decided to take a flat which is bigger than I was planning, but in all other areas fits my list of requirements splendidly. Not that I mind the extra space you understand, but lets just say that my 4 monthly haircut may need to stretch to 5 / 6 and hermit status may be finally be achieved just at the point when I want to be out and about ... Sigh.

While I say that this decision was hastened, it was actually very timely. I already knew that I had to get out of the house, that was clear, but from where I'm sitting now I can see how stretched thin and wound up I had become, which meant that when the day came to move it was almost like I ran away from my lovely home.

I was determined to get as much of my stuff out as possible all in the one weekend so I didn't have to keep going back, that just felt like it would be too painful, so this meant a manic 3 trips in the TEH's van and 4 trips in my car. The last car trip was the one with my clothes in it, all just taken from the rails on their hangers so they could be put straight on hanging rails at the other end thus removing the need to fold and pack, good plan huh? However, when feeling more like me, I would have done the job much more carefully, grouping stuff and clipping the hanger hooks together, covering with bin liners etc, however it was all just thrown in the back of the car - randomly ... I don't normally do random! It's not me at all.

The rest of the weekend was spent with the help of the parentals who arrived in the evening with some furniture, an amp and speakers and food - I hadn't had any all day so this was particularly welcome at this stage of the proceedings. They stayed with me all weekend and did general Mum and Dad stuff. Mum cleaned the kitchen and put my stuff away, and Dad put together flat packed furniture and hung curtains. They also supportively wandered round Ikea with me and witnessed my scary bill at the other end - remarkable how buying basics at a fiver each mounts up unexpectedly ... Anyway, I wouldn't have managed without them and I feel bad that at a time when I guess they could have expected their older daughter to be settled and that they'd be grandparents maybe (they'd be good at that), they're suddenly back to standing as guarantor on my flat, lending me furniture and helping me move etc.

So anyway, with a lot of help I'm in the new place, feeling calm and contented in a way I haven't for a VERY long time and looking back at the weekend I now think that it wasn't 'motion away', but more like 'motion towards' (nod to Eddie Izzard there). 'Motion towards' my new life - which has got to be a positive thing, whatever it holds.

What are you supposed to do with the photographs?

Being back in the house is a double edged sword really.  I love my home, but that’s exactly what makes it so painful.  The aim is to get it on the market by the end of the month, and in order to do that there is a certain amount of work that needs to be done – cracks to be filled, architrave to put up, walls to be painted, garden to be tidied up after the winter period and made to look appealing and presentable.  And that’s just it; I’m spending time in my home preparing it for someone else.  

I cut back my hydrangea the other week and generally pruned and weeded and as usual found it immensely satisfying and rewarding, right up until the point where I realised that I wouldn’t actually be there to see my garden come into flower, I wouldn’t be there to sit and take in the smells and look at my view from the comfort of a squishy lounger and a glass of Pinot.  That was when I realised that I had to get out as soon as I can.  Then to add even more urgency to this decision TEH’s living arrangements came to an abrupt end and consequently has been living out of a suitcase with various friends, who may cease to be friends if this goes on much longer …

I’ve been looking at flats, but it needs to be something I can be comfortable in for a good 8 months ie. up until the Inca Trail and whatever lies beyond; there’s no way of knowing how long it’s going to take to sell the house after all. It also needs to be something that TEH and I can afford between us, on top of what we already pay on the mortgage etc and without both of us turning into hermits …  Not an easy task as I discovered.  There really are some grim places out there.  My pre-requisites are proving somewhat elusive:

• Ground floor or maximum 1st floor (Unpacking shopping …)


• Studio or 1 bed (if a studio I want one big enough to have a separate bed rather than a sofa bed)


• Gas Central heating (heating!!!)


• Washer, fridge, freezer, oven & hob


• Somewhere to park the bloomin’ car

But which ever way I look at it, the process of moving out (properly this time) whether it be in 2 weeks or 2 months, is going to be a painful one.  I’ve made a start on packing up my stuff, but of course, in order to identify my stuff it means sorting through our stuff and I keep coming across memories all wrapped up in inanimate objects.  For example I have just packed up a box of children’s books.  The emotions packed away in that box are just phenomenal and an experience I don’t want to revisit for a wee while.

Strangely CD’s have been the easiest job – not sure why that is.  Maybe because modern technology has taken the angst out of decisions about whose is whose etc – just copy the damn things.  There are 5 piles:

• Mine


• TEH’s


• Mine that I think TEH would like a copy of


• TEH’s that I would like a copy of


• Pile that we can’t remember who’s they are – they were just ours.  Solution for this one – copy them all and then have a lucky dip for originals.

But I think the worst job, and the one which I keep skirting round, is what are you supposed to do with the photographs?  I think I’ll leave it there …

Well that’s the last of the Christmas cake then …

It’s amazing how long it lasted really – probably because I was away in Germany for a couple of weeks and forgot to take some with me – but either way I’ll miss my slice of cake for elevenses!

That was the week and a half that was.

Well, I’ve pretty much settled back into life in the house – I’ve really missed it and I hadn’t really admitted to myself how much, so I’m going to try and enjoy it while it lasts. Mind you, bearing in mind that the plan is to get the place on the market by the end of February that might not be as long as I would like.

The last Requiem was another good one – I’m sorry it must be boring me saying that every time! Sadly Elizabeth Jansson, the Alto soloist who toured with us couldn’t do the concert because she was ill (tour cold got everywhere it would seem), so Catherine Wynn-Rogers stepped in. She was really good, but it was really disappointing that Elizabeth couldn’t be there with the rest of the soloists that we’d toured with.

It was a long old day – up to Birmingham on the coach and then back to London after the concert – but it was good to get together with everyone again and make commitments to meet up for photo swapping, trekking (practice runs for my Peru trip) and general social stuff. Keeping it real, our time keeping challenged members came up trumps with an unscheduled loo stop on the way up the motorway; well, we had planned to stop to pick someone up from a service area, but we hadn’t planned on peanut bladdered members nipping off for a pee; it didn’t make us late or anything, but I guess it gave certain of us the opportunity to “exchange glances” etc in remembrance of the tour. (God I’m a grumpy bird sometimes!) The bus ride home was very quiet and all journey I was feeling sad about the fact that I’ll not be singing with the guys and won’t be seeing Craig and Jenny, all of whom felt like part of my family by the time I got back from Germany, for quite some time to come.

The rest of the week was pretty much as usual, too much to do etc. I feel like I’ve had a really productive week, but when I actually look at what I’ve done against what there is to do, I’m really only just scratching the surface … Ah well, I managed to get my registration form filled in and sent off for the Inca Trail nonetheless. Hurrah! Provisional dates are 14th to 23rd October. Now I just need to keep cracking with the fitness regime with the PPT, get the house sold and work out what else I want to do with the rest of my life. Easy …

Well the first step is to get the house sold, so after doing my washing, shopping and general weekend sorting out (I woke up at 6.30 am in spite of the fact that I could have had a flippin’ lie in …) I managed to sand, clean and paint the bathroom, scrub the bathroom window and blind – looks much brighter now. Tomorrow – as long as it’s not too cold – is earmarked for tidying the garden and maybe a bit of noodling on the old piano. What am I going to do with that???

A few hellos now I’m back …

Hello oven
Hello hob
Hello shower
Hello comfy bed
Hello piano
Hello speakers
Hello comfy sofa (tho’ I was quite attached to my pink chair in the flat!)
Hello tumble drier (tho’ it has already had one name-check)

And finally …

Hello wireless network and 2Mb internet connection. Heaven!

There’s no place like home

Well what a day yesterday was.  I feel like I spent the whole day flippin’ cleaning.  Whilst it wasn’t the whole day it was certainly the lion’s share of it!  I was up at 7am to do a few last bits of packing and then spent the rest of the time, until TH turned up at 10am, cleaning the flat.  You don’t grow up as a child in the forces without having the “moving out of married quarters inspection clean” instilled in you as a serious piece of work.  Now I knew that some officer clad in white gloves wasn’t going to come and undertake a full inspection which would include stroking said white gloves over every available surface, but I’m afraid the clean I did would have come up trumps even if they had!

TH’s van was packed up very quickly, so as we were running ahead of the pre-arranged key handover time he set off as an advance party.  I carried on cleaning fitfully (not much else to do really) until Lou arrived and then set off back to South East London.  TH had phoned to say that the route he had taken over Battersea Bridge had been really quick – he was back in 50 minutes, so I decided to follow suit.  Its all in the timing … By the time I was heading back – just over an hour later – whale fever had completely overtaken the Battersea Bridge area.  As soon as I hit the plethora of TV OB vans and heard the helicopters circling above I knew that I was in for a long wait.  Ah well … 2 hours later there I was back in my house, surveying the pile of unpacking that awaited and taking in, with a sinking feeling, the amount of cleaning I was going to have to do …  I shouldn’t have expected anything else really.

So, I did 4 loads of washing (oh joy unbound to be reunited with a tumble drier – what a little miracle to be able to wash dry and put stuff away all in one go – no damp washing hanging around the flat, hurrah!); unpacked all my possessions and put them away; dusted and disinfected all surfaces (no more rolling dust on the piano keys and the white sink is now white again rather than a dirty beige); hoovered all the floors; made the bed; cleaned the bathroom (a necessity if I was going to have a bath!)  

I had just about flaked out when  I received a call from BBW to see how I was doing and who, knowing my love of lists, provided me with one.  

1.  Pour a large glass of wine
2.  Run a bath
3.  Pour another glass of wine to drink in the bath
4.  Have a bath
5.  Maybe have another glass of wine – this item was optional …

Unfortunately having crossed item 1 off the list the rest of list went a bit haywire owing to a random nosebleed.  For goodness sake, I haven’t had one of those since I was in school!  Irritating as nosebleeds are in general, it would have been OK if it hadn’t lasted 45 minutes … That’s quite a long time and I was beginning to get a bit worried.  I had a call from George after 15 minutes of pinching the soft part of my nose, and who left me to it sounding a bit worried and with a request to text her when it was over.  I had a call from Lou after 20 minutes, who left me to it sounding a bit worried but then texted me the number for NHS Direct and asked me to let her know when I was over.  I had a call from BBW who didn’t sound worried at all  but who then proceeded to call me every 5 minutes to see how I was doing, to check that my brain hadn’t come out of my nose and to suggest stuffing Kleenex up my nostril.  Every bone in my body said that was a bad idea, but after 35 minutes I was ready to try anything (except having to get a cab to A&E and sit in chairs for several hours before they stuffed a tampon up my nose …), so after 10 minutes of Kleenex, the final BBW call was met with the reassuring news that it had stopped – phew …

So points 2 to 5 on the list were revised to:

2.  Drink lots of water
3.  Have a shower – felt a bit safer that having a bath …
4.  Go to bed
5.  Item 5 was always optional but was abandoned in favour of sleep

Either way, now I’m back I’ve realised that there’s no place like home (I own a pair of red shoes so feel entitled to use that expression), and whilst I feel really weird (I really can’t quantify how I feel, but its really weird), I expect I’ll get used to it – probably just in time for us to sell the house and to have to move again...!

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?”

Freiburg to Stuttgart

Well I've added another place to my list of places to come back to. Freiburg is beautiful, but we had so little time here, plus it was a Sunday so there was not much open. We went for a walk in the old town and managed to take in some lovely buildings, but it was desperately cold, so we didn't manage to last long and after about an hour headed back (via a cone of chips and mayo!) to the hotel to warm up before the rehearsal.

I enjoyed a luxurious soak in the bath with my book, and realised that it was my first bath since leaving London. Before you go 'oooooer, bit wiffy Jools', I've been having showers instead which has been great, as I've missed having a shower the last few months, Lou's flat only having the disturbingly pink bath etc. I have always viewed baths as something of an indulgence and find it very difficult to have a quick functional bath in the way you can have a quick functional shower in the morning before work. The temptation to wallow is tremendous, and I've been finding the whole 'body wash before work’ thing a bit stressful, so it’s been great to have some good old vigorous German showers before a concert - just the thing to pep me up. Today however, because I’d ended up with more time to play with, I decided on a spot of indulgence and hoped having a bath wouldn't make me feel too much like just going to bed after!

The concert hall was attached to the hotel we were staying in, so it meant we could get ready in our rooms again (very civilized!) and then fling on a coat and wizz round the corner to the artists entrance ready for our bit in the second half of the concert. I hate to say this again, but it was another really good concert, we just seem to keep getting better, which is saying something as it was pretty damn good when we started in Hannover. I really enjoyed the acoustic - I don't know what it sounded like out front, but it felt so easy to sing there, the notes and runs were pinging out remarkably well and it was a really enjoyable experience.

The concert was followed by an 'official' photo of the choir - a couple with Neville before he was whisked off for dinner somewhere - and the rest with Johan, and then another night cap in the bar - I have a feeling there was some dancing at one point ... Oh dear! Bed was a late one but happily we didn't have to be on the coach to our final port of call, and our final concert :-( until 1100 this morning (luxury!), so I still managed a reasonable amount of sleep which is just as well, as the route we're taking to Stuttgart is through the mountains, and is far to pretty to try and sleep through.

Munich to Freiburg

Well breakfast was a bit of a disappointment this morning ... Funny how quickly I get used to a breakfast that's nothing like my 'real life' one (toast and honey, banana and a pint of water). I was expecting the usual Maritim experience - fresh fruit and a dollop of Quark, egg and bacon, Greek yogurt with honey and a plate of cheese ham and grapes which gets transferred to my Tupperware and serves as lunch on the bus / train (I know that sounds like a terribly rude thing to do, but my excuse is there is never anything I can eat in the buffet car or service station). However, this morning, in spite of it being another Maritim, all I managed to find was 2 halves of tinned peaches, bacon and rubbery scramble and a very grainy looking yogurt (I gave that a miss actually). I did manage to get a picnic, but there were no grapes, so cherry toms and apple it had to be. Either way, it'll go down nicely with the Sekt we managed to procure for later ...

I've been to Munich before and really loved it, but unfortunately we didn't get much time there this time. It was a case of dashing in, hanging the frock up, putting on my sexy thermal vest (Munich was having a relative heat wave at -5 degrees, so I was glad of an extra layer!) and heading straight back out to have a meander down to St Michael's church and the Neue Rathaus. Unfortunately the clock only works at 1100 and 1700, and as we had to be on the coach then to go rehearsal, we didn't get to see it in action. Consequently Munich has been added to the list (blimey, it’s been a while since I wrote one of those) of places I want to come back to when I've got some leave and some money!

The concert was another cracker - the orchestra reckoned it was the best so far and along with the audience were very generous with their applause which was nice of them. We're singing really well actually, working with Johan has meant that we have rediscovered our sound; an orchestra member said it was back to the sound that it had back when it recorded the soundtrack for Amadeus, which is great. We're pretty damn tight now (always room for improvement there though), have pretty damn impressive fortes and, even more gratifyingly, increasingly controlled and soft pianissimos. Its like each section is singing as one voice, the mixture of different voices is really blending with no voices dominating the texture, which is exactly how it should be. The real shame is that we have no idea when we're going to be singing together again (apart from the final concert in this tour which happens to be in Birmingham Symphony Hall on the 28th). It would be great to get back to London and go straight into working on some challenging acapella repertoire with Johan, but that's not to be, so I'd better enjoy this while it lasts! :-(

Once back at the hotel it was luggage down to the bus again for overnight transport to Freiburg and a freezing cold stomp out to a beer Keller where Weiss beer is brewed on the premises. We resembled snowmen by the time we arrived - shoot the person who said it was 10 minute walk - it was seriously cosy in there and after my first half pint mug of Cabernet Sauvignon (I was a bit disappointed not to be able to join the others in their litre stein's of beer) I had regained the feeling in my fingers and was enjoying some silly banter ("When I'm calling you" Ali & Shaz) and serious conversation with our lovely waiter Matthias about the construction of his lederhosen ...

We were kicked out at closing time and the lovely Stephen treated us to a cab back to hotel which meant that we made it into bed with enough time to manage a luxurious 5 hours sleep and if I'm lucky I might manage to snatch another hour or so on the train. Funny how this touring lark is just a continuous cycle of eating, drinking, singing and sleeping ...

Mannheim to Munich

Oooh, I do feel better to have got that last rant off my chest! We're now 4 hours into the journey and have just had our comfort stop; my revolving, auto flush loo was somewhat arthritic in that it revolved the seat with a creaking noise and forgot to flush! I had to do that bit myself and found that I was a bit affronted that I'd had to do it - having got used to everything being so automated over here! It's going to take me ages to get used to turning a tap on to wash my hands, rather than waving them under the outlet ...

We've definitely made into Bavaria - we kind of touched the top edge of it on Wednesday on the train from Berlin to Mannheim, but this is definitely Chitty Chitty Bang Bang territory and to make it even prettier it is coated with a couple of feet of snow. It's not snowing at the moment, but the trees are covered in frost and look like swathes of brilliant white coral along the sides of the road. We've been told its - 10 degrees in Munich, so it looks like I might get the chance to wear another one of the 7 vests I brought with me ...!

The concert last night was an absolute belter (BJ nod to GVS there). The hotel was opposite the concert hall so we were able to go back to the hotel after the rehearsal and do dresses and faces in the comfort of our own rooms. Much more civilized than having to hang around at the hall and then try and get a face on along with 10 other people crowded round 1 badly lit mirror; you'd assume when designing backstage concert facilities that someone would twig that adequately lit mirrors were a pre-requisite wouldn't you ???

We then walked to the hall ready dressed and had a sneaky glass of fizz before the audience turned out for the interval. A lovely relaxed way to prepare for a show I feel. The hall is a tricky acoustic to work with - it's quite difficult to hear everything - the rest of my section in fact! It felt like I was singing solo at some points! However, it went very well and personally speaking it felt like one of my best voice nights so far. The response from the audience was great and when the lovely Johan (chorus master extraordinaire) brought the choir to its feet, we were treated to a Mannheim Stamp, which was really kind and very loud!

We were all on a bit of a high after this and because we were so close to the hotel, we made it back the bar by 2215, so there was plenty of time for several G & T's, chips and mayo (I do miss chunky HITW chips BBW) and a sing along with Ivan and Babushka the in-house "entertainment" - Volare and Rockin' all over the world (complete with air guitar) were particular favourites(!), before an "early" night - well its all relative!

Time keeping ...

5 hours on a coach - harrumph; I can think of better ways to spend 5 hours, but we've already been on the road for an hour and that seems to have gone quite quickly, so maybe the next 4 won't be too bad. We should actually have been 20 minutes further down the road by now by rights, but we left lat AGAIN because we were waiting for the same people (who have been persistently late on this trip. I'm being fairly chilled about it so far (ie. grumbling has been in my "inside voice" or at least with a select group of people), but it's really starting to p**** me off now.

I can't abide people who are persistently late, it shows lack of respect to everyone else that made it on time and frankly in this case I believe it is nothing more than attention seeking. Everyone has been provided with the same schedule and there is even a notice board in the foyer of each hotel which clearly says when the coach is leaving, but it seems that the announced bus departure time is being treated like some sort of dinner invitation - "0800 for 0830" ...

So, every bloody time, the rest of us organise ourselves so that we're on the coach BEFORE the announce departure time and then sit an wait while a couple of people put on a tedious performance of being ditzy and giggly and turning up repeatedly a minimum of 5 / 10 minutes late. I have no idea why an intelligent adult would want to appear stupid, but that is the act that gets played out each time to an increasingly hostile audience. I'm afraid I think they should be left behind - we'd soon see how organised they could be once they have to get to the next hotel under their own steam and out of their own pocket. And I'm afraid that excuses that they were up late and are tired (giggle, giggle) just don't wash. If you can't handle drinking 'til 3am in the morning and still be on time for the bus, DON'T DO IT!

I mean, for goodness sake, we have to think about precious little on these highly organised trips, so surely doing colleagues and the concert management, who are working hard to get us where we need to be etc, the courtesy of being on time isn't too much to ask ....

A day off!

So, you get a day off and what do you do? Well, being the sort of person who feels guilty if she’s not ‘doing’ something, I’d planned to head of somewhere like Heidelberg for the day. Whilst I’ve been there many times before, it is lovely and a good old stomp up to the Schloss is always good for blowing out the cobwebs and a welcome antidote to being cramped up on trains and coaches for hours on end.

However, they do say (well Eddie Izzard does anyway - Definite Article tour?) “the plans of mice and men oft gan agley” (no idea how to spell that!) and my ‘gannin’ agley’ was as a result of the fact that I was suffering from a severe case of swollen Jools. I have traced it back to the fact that I stupidly, yet unwittingly managed to eat some sage and onion stuffing on the plane on the way over, and the swelling has gradually been getting work during the past 5 days.

Initially, I put the puffiness down to the flight (I always puff up a bit, but it only lasts a day), and a fundamental lack of water - its been the devil’s own job getting hold of water on this trip for some reason; and I put the feeling of general lethargy down to the mad working hours catching up with me now I’ve given myself the chance to unwind and a couple of late nights (by the way, while the nights have been late my alcohol consumption has been very light - trying to be sensible in my advancing years!) However, I abandoned these assessments when really bad swelling kicked-in in Köln, and when on the morning following 10 hours sleep I recognised that old feeling (ie. the one I always used to have before I cut out wheat) of just wanting to curl up in a corner and sleep, sleep, sleep ...

It all came to a climax when we arrived in Mannheim. We walked to the hotel from the station and each step was more painful than the last. When we eventually reached our attic room I took my boots off and was shocked to be unable to see my ankle bones. There wasn’t much time before we had to get on a coach to Frankfurt (a further 90 minutes travel) so I spent it sourcing a picnic and lots of water in an attempt to re-hydrate and maybe make my legs less painful. After the concert (number 5 - not one of the best, but well received), my legs had swelled up so much that I could only get the zip up halfway ...

So my day off was spent having an uncomfortable yet effective lymphatic drainage massage, after which I lay on my bed with my feet up on some pillows watching a pay for view film. By the end of the film, while I was still puffy, the Yorkshire pudding ankles had subsided slightly and I was at least reacquainted with my ankle bones! All this inaction kind of went against the grain to be honest, but was actually the best thing to have done and meant that I was nicely rested and raring to go to round the day off by doing my hair (straight Jools went bouncy), getting dressed up and going out for a lovely meal - first proper meal in days - followed by a good old natter in the bar until the wee small hours ...

Berlin to Mannheim

Another day, another ICE; 5 hours traveling this time, passing through some pretty bits of snow clad Bavaria and ending up a grey old Mannheim where the luxury of having 3 nights in one hotel was slightly tempered by a tiny room up in the attic and to which the lift doesn’t go! It goes as far a level 5 and we’re on level 6 ...

Fortunately this train was much more comfortable than the last one, and the addition of managing to grab a private compartment with some like minded fellow chorus members meant, unusually for me, that I managed to get an hour or two of sleep on public transport to compensate for the paltry 3 hours I’d had following concert 4 in the Berlin Konzerthaus. I really must make sure that the time I go to be tonight has a 1 in it ...

We arrived in Berlin round about 1400 and had just 2 hours free before we had to head out again for the rehearsal. The Spartan / hospital like hotel was abandoned in favour of a stomp over to the Brandenburg Gate. It was a careful stomp however, as the pavements were caked in icy compacted snow. Its a great kind of cold though - crisp and dry - and as I watched my breath curling before me, took in the frozen river and spotted the sign which announced a temperature of -4 degrees, I was very glad of my thermal vest, jumper, fleece and cosy coat with furry hood which I had up over my new chocolate brown corduroy cap!

The concert was another good on, in spite of coming after a long and tiring day of traveling. In particular, the audience was really lovely and gave us our best reception yet. We came off stage and had to head immediately back to the coaches to be transported to the British Embassy for a reception. Getting into the Embassy was all a bit shambolic really; it is all far too boring to relate, but was faff nonetheless! Hey ho, once we got into the reception it was very pleasant; everyone was very friendly; champagne, wine and beer was flowing amply and the floating nibbles went down a treat with the ravenous musos and chorus. Coaches arrived an hour later to take us back to the hotel so we could re-pack our cases and load them onto the bus again for overnight transport to Mannheim. As you might expect, the route to and from the coach took us right past the hotel bar ... Well it would have been rude not to have had a quick nightcap with the orchestra before bed. I think I may need to work on my definition of ‘a quick nightcap’ because before I knew it, it was 0345! Ah well, we get a day off soon ...

The 0645 conversation ...

Bloominjools: “What time did we get to bed?”

Shaz: I haven’t a flippin’ clue ...

Bloominjools: I know it had a 3 in it ...

Köln to Berlin

I’m on the ICE 555 to Berlin. It’s a long old haul and involved an 0800 hotel departure. this was quite a feat bearing in mind that even though I made a huge effort to have an early night it was still 0200 before I put the light out, and being of the opinion that breakfast at the Crowne Plaza was a particularly good time investment, the alarm went off a 0645 in order to make breakfast at 0700 - can’t keep the egg chef waiting! Before you say anything, 0200 was early!

The promoter of concert 3 (another good one, but with no dramas this time) threw a party for us afterwards which meant that by the time we’d got back to Köln on the bus, packed our cases and taken them out to the bust for overnight transport to Berlin, it was already 0100, and tired as I was its always necessary to wind down in the hotel bar before going to bed, so 0200 it was!

I’ve got my picnic - found a lovely deli / sarni place in Köln yesterday - and am looking forward to having my marinated artichoke hearts, aubergine stuffed with basil and feta, red peppers stuffed with cream cheese and mozzarella rolled round Parma ham and pesto - yum! I forgot to buy a bottle of wine to have with it, but we’ve got an embassy do tonight’s, so I expect wine might figure in the proceedings at some point! Shame the seats are really uncomfortable again, but it gives me an excuse to get up and nosey to see what everyone else is up to. Sleep doesn’t look like its going to be an option, thought I could really do with a long nap - but maybe I can muscle in on a game of Pass the Pig or Scrabble somewhere further down the carriage ...

Köln to Dusseldorf

So, I’m on the bus again; this time heading off to Düsseldorf from the fantastic hotel in Köln for concert number 3. Concert 2 was a cracker, and the reception we got from the 3,000 strong audience in the Kölner Philharmonie was very pleasing; its always nice when an audience bothers to stand and clap louder when the choir are brought to their feet for their applause :)

It was also fairly eventful as performances of requiems go in that a lady had a heart attack in the middle of the piece - unfortunately right in my eye line. Being the good girl that I am, I always have Neville firmly locked in my sight, trouble was that in the same field of view I could see the poor old woman being manhandled (dragged, dropped, dragged) into the aisle and then up the stairs and out of the auditorium, all while I was trying to concentrate on the Lachrymosa. Five minutes later she was wheeled back through the auditorium on a trolley ... I was sure she must have passed away, but happily we learned following the concert that she was in hospital, but doing well. It was all a bit distracting really, but I guess if she hadn’t have pulled through, ‘going’ during the Mozart Requiem would have been as good a way to go as any ...

Today was spent in a leisurely walk in the direction of the Cathedral. Well, that was where we were heading, but the fact that we had all ‘done’ the cathedral twice before on previous trips, combined with the ‘minefield’ of designer boutiques we had to walk through in order to get there conspired to mean that we never made it and came back to the hotel considerably more financially challenged than we had been 3 hours before. Sigh ... Justifications for the Issey Miyake skirt as follows: 1. cheaper than home because of the Euro exchange rate; 2. I’m not in London therefore I’m not spending money living; and 3. I’m getting money to be here which more than amply covers the cost of my food and a few sherries of an evening ...

Whatever ... Its gorgeous!

Hannover to Köln

I’m writing this while sitting on a coach traveling from Hannover to Köln. We’ve been on the road for about 1.5 hours - only another 3 to go ... It’s pretty damn uncomfortable as it goes, but I did at least manage a wee bit of a snooze before I realised subconsciously that I couldn’t feel my left leg!

I’m now plugged into my MP3 player and am feeling quite contented, enjoying my own company for a while. I’m feeling strangely disengaged, but then I guess that’s what being on tour is like - totally disengaged from real life. I have a schedule which means I don’t have to think about anything. It tells me where to go and when I need to be there; the only decisions to make are what to eat and what to wear, and with my suitcase already being in the state that it is, the latter decision amounts to simply wearing whatever is on the top and hoping that the colours don’t clash! Not that you’d be able to tell by looking at yourself in the mirror in the hotel room mind you; it’s too dark to see! What is it with these people that design these rooms? They’re all the same: light in the hallway, lamp by the bed and a lamp on the dressing table and none of them can be more than 10 Watts. Why do they not want their guests to be able to see themselves, or indeed the contents of their cases? Very odd.

I’m hoping to get more of a nap on the bus later as I only managed to get 5 hours sleep last night. They actually threw us out of the bar, muttering something about wanting to go home ... but there’s not going to be enough time when we get to Köln as it’ll be mad dash to get frocks hung up, feather pillows swapped for synthetic (vital unless I want to join the bass section!) and find something to eat before getting back on the bus to the concert hall for rehearsal and concert number 2.

Concert number 1 went well. Full house, and apart from a couple of dodgy moments, pretty good. I was in quite good voice personally, courtesy of 9.5 hours sleep the night before! Amazing how much better the instrument works when it’s relaxed and rested ... Ah well, the coach is just pulling into one of those very precise looking German service stations. Time for a loo break and with any luck it’ll be one of those that flushes automatically when you stand up and then revolves the seat to clean it. It’s always entertaining to listen to people in adjoining cubicles experiencing them for the first time!

London to Hannover

It doesn’t matter how much I try, I always lose my nerve and over pack when I go on tour. The forecast is for very cold weather in Germany, yet I know from previous trips that shops, hotels, coaches, trains and concert halls are always heated to a ridiculous temperature so in spite of packing vests, T-shirts, jumpers and fleeces I usually end up wearing T shirts alone and carting a load of stuff around Germany that I don’t actually end up wearing. So, what did I do? I listened to people saying “Oh no, you should take jumpers and thermals, its REALLY cold and you know how you hate to be cold ...”

So, the suitcase was dutifully slid down several flights of stairs and heaved into the back of the car; its almost too heavy to lift, what with all those flippin’ jumpers and vests in it; though the 3 concert dresses (new JC included), 2 pairs of concert shoes, 3 pairs of boots and hairdryer probably contributed ...; flat keys were dropped off with Lou, the car was driven to home for safe keeping, and I set off for the airport with the help of a lift to East Croydon station courtesy of TH who also helped me get my case onto the train and then waved me off; all of which combined to make me feel curiously melancholy ...

I arrived in plenty of time to get checked in (my case may have been the largest, but at least it wasn’t the heaviest!) and had a lovely glass of fizz with the gang to celebrate the kick off of the tour - 2 weeks of glorious Mozart, good mates, late nights, early starts, 1,000s of miles (no idea how many, but its lots!) on planes, coaches and trains, and most importantly the first opportunity in a good 6 months to truly empty my head and be me. Boy, am I looking forward to it!

The rest of the journey was pretty pleasant. Well, as pleasant as traveling can be bearing in mind that it always feels to me like one long queue! Well, the queues are now over and we’ve arrived, so I’m off for dinner, a few sherries, dancing in the hotel bar (depending on how I’m feeling) and then bed - all ready for a spot of shopping, rehearsals and concert number 1 tomorrow.