Well, if I may say so, I think that was even better than last night. First time I’ve had 2,000 people standing and cheering before the (very) end. This is good – feels like the show has really found itself. And that’s great, given the extra pressure of the West End this year. Am sat back in the hotel having a pizza – which I know is a bad idea this late – and a scotch, waiting for the crew to come back. Tomorrow is a treat day. A day off, aside from travel, and some fun is planned.

Thank you to all the lovely people who queued outside in the drizzle to say hello afterwards. I’ve really enjoyed the last couple of nights.

That really is quite enough pizza. Very tasty though: pepperoni and chorizo. if those aren’t just two of my favourite things on a pizza, than I don’t know what they are. But I shall stop, lest there are windy-pops. Ner-night.

x

Left Bournemouth and said goodbye to Cheryl. Here we are: me, Cheryl, Bagel and Rob:

And after a long drive, where I pretty much slept the whole way and left Coops to smoke fags and hum, we arrived in Nottingham yesterday afternoon. None of us had had more than a few hours’ sleep the night before, so crew energy was quite low.

The show, however, was great: best so far. The differences would only be noted by those of us who know the show well: even a night that might seem a little flat to me (audiences differ geographically; different weeknights bring in different moods and levels of rowdiness; my own level of concentration, enjoyment and energy will naturally fluctuate) will hopefully be enjoyed by the audience to roughly the same extent as a night I think was a triumph. But last night felt very good, and the response at the end was amazing. I hope tonight will have a similar feel: the set-out of the auditorium means it’s tricky for people to get up on stage quickly. The danger is in such places that the overall pace can slip a bit if we’re having to routinely wait for people to get up on stage. In the Royal Concert Hall where I’m playing, it can take people two minutes to get down from upstairs – these are the things I have to check before the performance starts. Two minutes is an eternity to wait during a show. There are times when such a wait holds: there’s a lot that has to be balanced to keep the spirit of the show bouncing along in all the right places, and for the darker, slower sequences to not feel interminable.

The people after the show were as lovely as ever: the stage door at the RCH opens into the street, so this is one venue where there’s a tendency for signings to last for hours as passers-by attach themselves to the outer reaches of the friendly gathered crowd. I had to be a little more hurried than usual last night as we had to make a dinner reservation, but thank you all of you who gathered there, and apologies again that I was rushed.

It’s a rainy morning in Nottingham, and having packed nothing suitable for wet weather, I may have to postpone the bits of shopping I need to do for myself and the show. Yesterday managed to make it to Debenhams here before early Sunday closing: just in time to have a very sweet member of staff at the till recognise me in a blushy, lovely way, while I knew I had to then pay for a bunch of pants I’d just bought. I considered just stealing them to avoid the embarrassment, but imagine the scandal if I was caught. Like a cheap Winona Ryder. At least she’d have been caught in House of Fraser.

Tatty-bye.

x

Bournemouth (the BIC) is a huge conference centre, as opposed to theatre, so the stage had to be built from scratch in a massive empty barn of a room. It seats over 4000; the rows stretching back and back, making me a tiny pink featureless dot for those lucky ladies and gentlemen in the back reaches. Work started at six am, and I spent the afternoon in town writing a foreword for a book on Houdini which is on its way out soon. (Amazon makes it sound like i have written the book with Harry himself: not quite, it’s just a foreword).

The first night in Bournemouth was great: such a huge crowd, all of whom sprung to their feet the moment the show finished. Andy, our sound chap, did an excellent job of making sure everyone could hear me clearly in that big old space, and Tim and Other Andy did a sterling job on lighting. (Both aside from Other Other Andy who directs.)

After the show, we arrived at the Captain’s Club Hotel, a beautiful retreat by the marina, and have been looked after astonishingly well by Cheryl, who has just brought me an excellent Eggs Benedict. (This is the touring brekkie of choice, and so far I haven’t found one on a menu). We’ve never received such extraordinary service from a hotel: Cheryl even came to pick me up last night after the second Bournemouth show. They went to amazing lengths to make sure we were looked after, and we’ve all had the most wonderful and refreshing stay. Thank you Cheryl, Tim, Rob, Luke, Marcus and Bagel and everyone else.

That night after the show, we had a visit from a chap called Phil who had taken part in the Heist – he was one of the guys who refused to continue with the Milgram, to his credit. He now works for a private wine company called Romanet, and he arrived at the hotel to give us all a delightful post-show wine-tasting. Just lovely. Thank you again Phil! A great end to a night. Our production manager spilt ketchup over the carpet: that’s about as rock ‘n’ roll as I get.

The next day Coops and I went to Monkeyworld and looked at monkeys. Here’s a picture of one I looked at:

And another, more aggressive one:

The second night was ok, but felt just a bit flat in comparison to the previous nights: the audience were still lovely but it was the first show without a standing ovation. Whaddya gonna do. Back to the Captains Club for some excellent seafood after the show.

Bye-bye Bournemouth, it’s been much fun. Long drive now… to Nottingham. Hoot if you pass us.

xx

The first night was terrific: the show went well and the audience were delightful: warm and very enthusiastic. All 1066 of them (the capacity of the Hastings theatre… See what they did?) sprung to their feet and were brilliant throughout, despite me confusing my own crew by getting a couple of bits round the wrong way. Tonight’s show was much fun, marred only by a couple of props that decided to do their own thing or fall apart.

Spent yesterday afternoon in the delightful Cafe des Artes, a gorgeous art gallery and cafe in Hastings which turned out to be run as part of a major Autistic trust. Some of the staff are autistic, and clearly the job is designed to be of great assistance to them, as part of a planned programme designed by the trust. I got talking to one of the women who runs it: a lovely lady called Lisa who used to be a magician’s assistant at the circus in a female magic act. There are very few magiciennes nowadays, and even fewer during her circus years. So she’s a magician’s-assistant-turned-careworker. An excellent lady.

I did a tiny on-film thing for their latest awareness project, which I’m sure will be on YouTube at some point. And clearly the programme works well: I spoke after the show to a delightful chap called Anthony who had a job at the cafe as part of living and working with with his own autism. Quite fascinating, and lovely to come across the project.

Today was spent visiting some great friends who live in an ex-church in Folkestone. After months of working exceptionally hard, it was amazing to sit in the sun, with wonderful people, play with their toddler Scarlett and eat a splendid lunch. Brilliantly, she made chocolate crucifixes for pudding. Get that.

A really lovely start to the tour. The wonderful weather helps as we weave around the coastline. Thank you Hastings, you’ve kicked us off royally and forgiven a few minor glitches.
Bournemouth next.
X

A fun bit of research by a student called Virgin Griffith about correlations between intelligence (at least as measured by college SAT scores in the US) and what music you listen to and books you read. Judge yourself accordingly. I know where I am on that scale, but it would be gauche to mention it.

From the brilliant David Britland: Thank you, David.