Canned It

After another session at the velodrome I ponder that perhaps I’m getting a bit fitter. Perhaps. Problem is now that I need to upgrade my gearing again. Almost everyone is using at least a 96 teeth chain ring and he’s me on a little old 91. A touch underpowered.

I have my physio on Tuesday rather than Wednesday ahead of five straight days at my club’s dog show. He ups my dumbbells from 8kg to 10kg, of course he does, and get me working on the 24 inch box jumps.

In the evening I’m out with my old school pal doing the usual thing. Beer in the Alexandra and food in the Exeter.

L’s brother emigrates to Columbia on Wednesday which we knew was coming but has all happened so quickly. It’s also all caused a bit of a family upset but then what’s a family without one.

Preparations go well at the dog show with the marquee arriving on time at 9:30 on the first day of set up. Despite the recent rain there is no muddy ground but there is a nice big puddle that the Lad would have liked but sadly he isn’t joining me at all this week and nor is L. The Lad finds the whole dog show thing too stressful as does L or did she saying too boring. Not having the Lad does make my job at the show much easier. He has his knees up last weekend.

I am struggling to fit in a night out with my Dad so after I finish on the Wednesday I swing past his place, bring him over to ours and then collect the Lad before we go to the Horse & Jockey in Stapleford for a swift one.

Thursday is another successful set up day. L says it’s grey and miserable at home. I’m not sure if she means the weather or work but she still manages a run before the downpour that comes later. We also manage a romantic night out at the gym together.

The Lad gets a ridiculously early walk on Friday before I abandon his to go to the first day of competition at the show. L is doing her regular Friday swim but can take over walking the monster for the rest of the weekend.

My brother manages to take my Dad to the Golden Rams coffee afternoon as I’m too busy at the dog show and he gets his photo taken on the pitch. He comes to the dog show on Sunday and helps out with the free pizza. I come home with new dog mats and a new tuggy lead for the uninvited one.

As suspected we’ve been doing a bit too much drinking and L has called time on it, deciding to take a break from it all. So that’s canned the canned beer nights which is no bad thing as even I was really fed up with it.

(Sunday 30^th July)

A New Policy

L has a new policy at work. If her boss doesn’t come into the office then she comes home. She’s home on Monday by 10:30. I tell her to pick up some milk if she’s coming home, as we’ll need it. The kettle is already quaking in its boots.

While I may or may not be enjoying my Monday Cycling sessions, I’m not sure L is enjoying me leaving her in charge of ‘bloody walk time’. The lead biter is not such a poppet when it comes to walk times, at least with L.

On Tuesday L has her PT but I take a day off my workout as my knees aren’t great after a heavy knee day of gym and run on Sunday and cycling on Monday. Tuesday is our last dog training night before our summer break.

Daughter gets a parking fine outside our house.

This week three stages of the Tour De France are centred around Combloux where we stayed for skiing this year. You didn’t see a lot of Combloux as they had barriered it all off but they did seem to have a camera right outside our hotel because I spotted the recycle bins across the road! as well as the roundabout but not the hotel itself.

My physio ups the Sledge push to 60kg. L says that’s almost as much as she weighs. He did in fact say that a good target is always to get someone to stand on it. He’s also got me doing box jumps but the smallest one in the gym is 20 inches which I’m struggling with as it’s only 18 inches at physio. Although he wants me to work on 24.

We take my Dad swimming on Wednesday but only I swim with him and L comes along to walk the Lad. The swimming is a bit frustrating e.g. just Dad minding and this way the Lad gets to come too. We go to Notsa afterwards.

L has one of her mad Fridays. Swim with her friend, then head over on the bus to visit her Dad and then have lunch in town with her Mum. What no gardening? She’s slacking.

On Friday evening I go to the gym with L and work on my box jumps finally achieving the not so holy grail of 20 inches.

We wake up to a message that L’s Mum is in A&E with leg pain but thankfully she is soon sent home. As there’s nothing we can do we head to Colwick. Yes on a Saturday rather than a Sunday this week for parkrun and then L swims followed by a Daleside breakfast.

In the afternoon Derby have a pre-season friendly with Stoke City that doubles as a testimonial for Craig Forsyth who has been at the club for ten years. This also gives L and her Mum a break from our company in Derby.

On Sunday L has a family gathering for her Dad’s birthday and I take the Lad to his first dog show in almost a year. He is thrilled. His stress levels are high but he has a great time and does better than last time although he still lands four Es. I’m not sure I’ll ever get him calm enough to be any better.

Rather poignantly the last time I was at this venue it was May last year and I was feeding MD chips and curry from the van because he wasn’t eating at home. Which is a sad memory.

In the evening we watch ‘Operation Mincemeat’, an odd but interesting film, at the end of another week of bit too much drinking despite not going out anywhere. 

(Sunday 23^rd July)

In Town With The Shopaholics

At work we have a week of events to kick off what is our new work year. Actual work is, it appears, optional. The events consist of a number of talks from people within our organisation but also some celebrity guests.

My usual Monday progress meeting for my latest project gets moved to Tuesday because, I assume, everyone wants to the cook-along with the celebrity chef I’ve not heard of. They are cooking Tostadas for which I don’t have the ingredients and it all looks a bit of an expensive faff so I give it a miss.

Later in the week we have Kelly Holmes leading us through a workout with two tins of beans and a towel. I kid you not. She does however give a very interesting interview about teamwork.

I accidentally lock the lodger out and find her sat on the doorstep when I get back from doing the shopping (not for the Tostadas).

L inspired me to get a physio after the success she had with hers. Now that my physio is masquerading as a personal trainer, and also because I think she liked the workout he’s given me, she’s signed up for one herself. Hopefully this person won’t quit their job like all her others have, I’m sure it’s not her, and she’ll get to stick at it. I’ve even offered to pay for it but she’s declined.

On Tuesday I have sent someone round to cut my Dad’s hedges while at home I take delivery of our washing machine. Meanwhile L is off with a walk with her friends and ending up at the Carpenters Arms in Dale Abbey. Very nice.

Our neighbours have an allotment and so they keep us topped up with fresh veg. Unfortunately, and I don’t wish to feel ungrateful, this seems to be mainly courgettes but we do also get some cucumbers, tomatoes, runner beans and beetroot. Not that we really know what to do with the beetroot.

I survive another physio session on Wednesday and L asks if he’s pleased with my progress. Funnily enough it’s not something we ever discuss. He’s just ups my weights each week e.g. this week my dumbbells increased from 6kg to 8kg despite the fact I’ve complained that my arms are already quite a bit longer than when we started. He didn’t mention being pleased.

I get tickets for the two of us to see Depeche Mode in Birmingham in January. L says she’s tempted to ask for a granny seat but we’re going to be standing as I don’t want to be as far away as we were when we went there to see Arcade Fire. If she keeps up her gym work she’ll be fine.

Thursday was going alright until I spoilt it by going to the gym. Whereas L always says going to the gym is the highlight of her day but then she doesn’t have my workout.

My Dad was promised a follow up appointment three months after he had his knee looked at in March. It’s now July so I chased it, rang the hospital and got straight through to someone. I almost fell off my chair. He’s booked in for 18th August.

L is having problems tracking down a missing parcel for work. The only way to contact the Royal Mail seems to be through online chat with no real person on the end e.g. it’s one of them AI Chat Bots that’s going to take over the world but it still won’t be able to help you find your parcel.

After four days of events with work they give us Friday off as a Wellbeing Day. I go to the gym with L which is a questionable place for my wellbeing but at least I get to spend it in good company. The stormy night meanwhile is not good for the Lad’s wellbeing as nobody fancied taking him for a walk in it. It’s a good background for a ‘Friday Night’ though, we haven’t had one of those for a while so a stormy one is a bonus.

Parkrun is at Long Eaton for the first time since New Year’s Day 2019 when we also did Markeaton as park of the New Year double.

Then it’s another Saturday in town with the Shopaholics. That’s my Dad and L’s Mum, I don’t think it’s fair to include L in that and certainly not me. The café tour reaches Café Caruso. Where we debate the loss of the Ice Factory in a blaze 48 years ago because three of us remember it happening. I do not as I was only eight.

I notice that Sainsbury’s in Derby are selling plant based tomato soup. What other kind is there? I find out later that they’ve replaced the cream with fermented soy but plant based is still surely misleading as both versions are 80% tomatoes. How big a base do you need?

L and I gym together again on Sunday and then do a short 2k run together.

We have a much saner week on the beer and a very pleasant night out in the Canning Circus pubs on Sunday. Interesting Tiny Rebel have reinvented Theakston’s timeless classis Old Peculiar and made a chocolate version of it. Unfortunately this will be impossible to get hold of, so no sign of this in Canning Circus.

(Sunday 16^th July)

Walk Right Back

L has got a removal man in to clear their old office. Anyone and any price will do she’s not choosy, she’s not paying and just wants it done. Although he is apparently such a nice man and he can do it tomorrow.

I cycle on Monday at the velodrome and Daughter joins L for an early swim on Tuesday while the Lad and I hobble around the park as my knees complain loudly about the previous night’s cycling.

With her boss not around and her old office now cleared, L ‘works from home’ for the rest of the week. There is after all a lonely jigsaw that needs company. Although Friday is for visiting her Dad and gardening for her Mum.

On Wednesday I get tortured once again by my physio and then in the evening by a trip to the Royal Concert Hall to see a musical. It’s called ‘Walk Right Back’ and is about the Everly Brothers. I know I can cope as I survived Jersey Boys.

As it happens it’s not much of a musical, it’s more of a night with a covers band and it’s not just Everly Brothers songs either as Buddy Holly and Eddie Cochran also feature. I was actually hoping for a bit of a story and we do get a little background info but there is no plot as such. The artists are perfectly fine, so it’s an ok night for something that isn’t my era.

On Thursday L and I gym together and then L runs with Daughter to her work.

Saturday’s Parkrun is at Beeston from where, after a coffee at the Boathouse café, L gets the bus to Derby to meet her Mum. My Dad and I join them later at Café Villabella as we continue our café tour of Derby. Then L, seemingly getting really into her gardening, does our lawn while I do my Dad’s.

We were supposed to be at a bats’ walk in the evening, the Brilliant Bats Walk no less at Sherwood Pines but it is cancelled due to the expected storm.

Sunday is of course swimming at Colwick where the Lad and I attempt to walk all the way around the outside of the racecourse. This takes a bit longer than we expected.

L and I are back at the gym on Sunday and doing my physio’s routine together. I even manage to persuade L to put some weight on the gym sledge rather than just pushing it unladen.

We end up staying in all weekend. I’m always one for going out for a drink but L’s more for staying in, at least when places are busy on a Friday and Saturday as we also like to take the Lad but it can be a bit much to go out on a Sunday as we decide this week. 

(Sunday 9^nd July)

Bath

On Friday we walk the Lad in the morning  as usual and we abandon him for the weekend with the Lodger. It will be really interesting to see how they get on.

The service to Bath by train is pretty more and absolutely shocking on the Sunday when we are coming back but we give it a go. We have to change at Nottingham  and Bristol on the way there but it goes pretty smoothly apart from the seat reservations… there’s always an issue with the seat reservations.

We are staying at the Royal Hotel near the Railway Station which is pleasant old style hotel. As we are too early to check in we pay the nominal fee to go on to the Parade Gardens where we have lunch.

In the evening we have dinner at the hotel, where we are the only ones in their restaurant. They had insisted we eat before 6:30, so we assumed it would be busy. This proves not to be the case. Then we head off to find a decent pub but don’t find one as it’s raining quite heavy and we basically just need to shelter somewhere average. L has a bout of palpitations while we are in the pub either from the restaurant meal or the glass of wine she had with it as she’s on water in the pub.

On Saturday morning we hike out of town up something called Widecombe Hill which leads us to where Bath Skyline Parkrun is being held. This is possibly one of nicest places to have a parkrun even if it is booby trapped with hundreds of trip hazards. Despite that, and in thy absence of a dog, I am determined to test out my knee so I jump in past the worst of the ground and run 2k with her. It goes quite well for me, L seems to have a blast.

We grab a coffee on the way back at the bottom of Widecombe Hill and the head back to the hotel for a cream team that was included in the hotel deal and will make up for us missing breakfast.

Then in the afternoon we do the sights of Bath which aren’t all that many really but then we don’t pay for anything. We also do the bookshops and the Bath Brewery pub with L being a saint on the water again. We eat in the evening at the Bengal Brasserie.

On Sunday our short stay comes to an end and after a hotel breakfast we brave the trains. Getting to Bristol is easy but then there are plenty of delays, cancellation and rerouting. We are sent to Newport to make the connection back to Nottingham. It all takes an hour longer but we get there eventually. 

(Sunday 2^nd July)

Happy Places

My cycling on Monday leaves me so wrecked that I have to skip my gym session on Tuesday. I know, any old excuse but my knee is painful and I’m worried about fainting in the gym.

It’s the anniversary of my Mum passing away, so in the evening we head over Elvaston Castle to scatter my Mum’s ashes with my Dad and my Brother’s family. Our second set of ashes scattering in three days. Elvaston Castle was one of her happy places. We go for something to eat afterwards in the New Inn at Shardlow which is one of my Dad’s happy places.

L has now officially completed her office move, across the corridor. With all that lugging around of stuff she probably needn't have bothered with the gym today but I know she will diligently go anyway. Unlike me.

Daughter has been doing a police driving course since last week where they are teaching her to drive like a maniac. It’s soon clear that it’s not really to her liking. She says she's more than happy to drive at 30mph. Not that I’ve never seen her drive at 30mph…

Next door, who are on disability benefits but clearly have other additional income take delivery of a massive pool. We look it up online and they are selling for £480 which is a lot but actually a lot less than I thought it would cost.

I have the last of my block of four physio sessions and at the end he gives me an assessment and asks me to run for three minutes on the treadmill. This goes better than I expected so parkrun’s looking possible for Saturday. I then sign up for another four sessions.

L has been contacting people who claim to fix washing machines to come and have a look at our leaking machine but has failed to get any interest from any of them. Defeated L ask if we can order a new washer. I’m happy to oblige.

Wednesday is Dog Training and then on Thursday I meet my ex-colleague for lunch, as usual, in the Brunswick while L has day off but is also in Derby for lunch with her Mum, so I drop her off.

My Dad finally get his optician’s appointment and tells me all about it when I take him out later. They appear to have convinced him to give up his current five pairs of glasses of varying quality (from bad to really bad) and have two new pairs instead. Result.

(Thursday 29^th June)

All Systems Failure

Having asked for rain to refresh the grass at Locko Park for our dog show we are now getting it in bucket loads which makes for some damp morning walks.

I fit in an evil gym session on Tuesday between my evil cycling session on Monday and my evil physio\PT session on Wednesday. I’m loving my sport at the moment.

L’s boss skips work on Wednesday. His car won't lock. I am yet again impressed by what is yet another very original excuse from her boss. In the evening we take my Dad swimming again.

My Dad thinks he’s got an optician’s appointment for Thursday but it turns out to be next Thursday as he found out when he went but he still enjoyed himself. He came back with four bags of shopping and now looks forward to another trip out next week.

There are reports of a fire at Morley Hayes golf club where my Dad and Brother were at the weekend. My Dad was minding the golf buggy as a Father’s Day treat. The two events don’t seem to be related. At first I think at least they got a game in there while they could but then on second look it was just an outbuilding that held all their green keeping facilities that burnt down. They have lost their fleet of lawnmowers but are again open as normal.

Thursday sees the new football fixtures released so planning for the rest of the year can now commence! In the evening I have a committee meeting and it’s also our first Civil Partnership anniversary, which criminally isn’t something I even have in my diary. Yet this is just one year among twenty-seven equally glorious ones.

The Lad leaps the gate again to help the postman who is pushing a parcel through the letter box, which turns out to be a new parkrun top for L. It’s a good job I’m here to let him back through.

On Friday I have the car in for a service and uniquely they don’t find anything extra to charge me to fix. I have my fingers crossed all day that the ‘all systems failure’ it comes up with every few days doesn’t materialise. This ‘failure’ is that all driving aids such as parking sensors etc have failed. I don’t miss any of these when they’re not working so I don’t particularly want to pay to have it fixed.

A lot of the weekend is spent try to keep up with Glastonbury on TV, as again they wouldn’t let us have a ticket, through the BBC’s very hit and miss coverage.

On Friday evening I propose skipping a night on the ‘cans’ and we walk to the local Willoughby pub where we have a very pleasant couple of drinks in the sun and just the two drinks. Then we overdo it by having an extra one or two when we get back.

Saturday is parkrun at Alvaston and then another trip into town with my Dad where L and her Mum are now struggling to come up with new cafes for us to try.

Sunday is again swimming and orienteering at Colwick Park. Then in the afternoon we do a joint gym session.

They say that working out of course increases your dopamine and testosterone levels. For me this means that when you get home, you just want to throw your gym buddy on the bed and ravish her but then you realise that you’re now too old for that sort of thing, that the lodger will be in and that you’ve got to go to scatter your dog’s ashes on the park.

That’s MD of course, who died just over a year ago. We scatter them with Daughter which is a great way for her to spend her 30^th birthday. Then we take her to Miller & Carter for a proper celebration. 

(Sunday 25^th June)

There’s Always Golf

L utters three words that she often utters ‘Bloody Daily Mail’ but this time it’s nothing political. Apparently the Daily Mail, in conjunction with B&Q who ran an advertisement feature in the paper, have persuaded her Mum to buy copious amounts of compost that L will now have to spread on her garden. This was, in theory, a nice little money spinner for B&Q but one that failed badly because L’s Mum bought it, as she does most things, from Amazon.

Monday is my cycling session which seems to score my lungs every week and leave me unable to digest any food afterwards but, I think, I’m getting better at minimising this. Eating more before a session helps.

On Tuesday we wake up to the news that three are dead and three are in hospital in Nottingham after a man went on a rampage with a knife and then with a van taken from a man he knifed. It all started on Ilkeston Road near us where two students were stabbed and then moved to Daughter’s old area of Magdala Road. All shocking and dreadful.

I make it to the gym at lunchtime but that was as far as I was allowed to go along Ilkeston Road where they have the road closed and where they have raided a house. There were press everywhere as Nottingham lead all the news bulletins even bumped that idiot Boris Johnson down the news.

Wednesday morning’s walk involves the Lad and I having to escape across the golf course to avoid the deer.

L hits the gym proclaiming she has a dress to get into. That’s the spirit. Although it may be a metaphorical dress as I think the one I bought is going back. Meanwhile I’m at my Physio, who clearly sees himself as more of a personal trainer than just a physio and, yes, he is definitely trying to kill me. He increased all my weights again.

L brings home a posh Nespresso coffee maker, the type that you put the little capsules in, that they don't want at work. We think my Dad would love it but first I best check it works. Unfortunately it doesn’t, at least not very well. It takes me half an hour to make a double expresso as the water flow seems to be blocked. I know baristas can be slow but that’s ridiculous. We daren’t even unpack the milk-frothier. Who knew such things existed.

L goes to Magdala Road to take flowers on our behalf which must have been quite difficult. It’s emotional enough looking at all the flowers on Ilkeston Road. The two students have got all the publicity what with them being young with their whole lives head of them etc and he’s sadly been forgotten a bit.

Some emails you dread and, for me, one’s about playing tennis come into that category. My opponent offers me a game but my physio has told me not to attempt to run until the end of the month. So that got me out of that. Depending on how my iron pumping goes we might manage a game in July. If he hasn’t killed me by then.

Then he suggests the ‘other thing’. That there is always golf. The thought has crossed my mind. When there is nowhere else left to go there’s always golf.

Saturday is parkrun at Alvaston and then I go to see my Dad. We leave L and her Mum in peace and don’t join them in town.

On Sunday L swims at Colwick while the Lad and I orienteer. We find most of the controls we look for but as the course is now very old some are probably long gone or buried in the undergrowth. Later we do the gym together. Well not ‘together’ together but we’re in the same building.

We stay in all this week, on the canned beer but with a bit more moderation and many thunderstorms. 

(Sunday 18^th June)

Underestimated

Wednesday has now been restructured and redefined as ‘physio day’ and the chap who seemed so nice last week has turned in to an evil torturer who is trying to kill me. He’s tripled all the weights that he gave me last week. He says he has underestimated me. I’ve underestimated him and I think I may have revealed my hand too soon.

In the evening L and I take my Dad to the new pool at Derby Moorways. The public session is squeezed into about a quarter of the 50m length although it is full width. It is also packed. We both find it very stifling and almost impossible to swim in but my Dad loves it, this being his first time back in a pool for years.

Afterwards we pop to the Harrington pub in Thulston for the obligatory pint. My Dad can’t do anything without having a pint afterwards which is obviously where I inherited the same trait from. It’s all in my genes.

L is in London unwillingly on Thursday for work. Unwilling but essential as the last time her boss went on his own he lost vital documents. The Lad and I pick her up in the evening from the station.

One up side of being in London is that she comes home proclaiming ‘I really need a dress. Everyone is wearing dresses and trainers. Absolutely everyone.’

I could, at this point, point out (and of course I did) that I have offered to buy her a dress about three hundred times of the last twenty seven years and been turned down about 99% of the time. I recall a successful purchase somewhere in the dim and distant past. I may also have mentioned that wearing a dress with trainers was a thing and that you don’t need to wear boots\heels etc but have been dismissed. She says she may take a look for one at the weekend.

On Friday I skive off work for an hour to do a site visit to Locko Park where our dog show is being held next month. We find that a previous show has left the ground very bare in places and I hate to say this but we’re going to need a fair bit of rain for it to recover.

On Saturday L requests an adventurous parkrun and I deliver Bestwood which is not particularly adventurous until you try to run it but we haven’t been there for ages.

Then I take my Dad into Derby where we meet L and her Mum again. Lo and behold L tells me that I have bought herself a dress. She says I hope I like it. I love it already even before I’ve seen it. After shopping we drop off L’s Mum and collect the Lad before taking my Dad home where I do the garden and helpful L mops the kitchen floor.

Unfortunately, when she gets home to try it on, L doesn’t love the dress as it doesn’t fit and that upsets her. Then we probably both drown our sorrows after also having a night's drinking on Wednesday, on Thursday and on Friday too. That’s excessive and I don’t even enjoy drinking canned beer at home. 

We're a bad combination on this. L often kicks off the week's drinking but then it's me who powers it on through the weekend. So a night out in Stapleford on proper beer on Sunday at my insistence is blessed relief from the cans but a terrible idea really after the four days that preceded it.

Sunday also sees Daughter joining us for a swim at Colwick and helpful L going over to do some gardening for her Mum.

 (Sunday 11^th June)

The March Violets

Tonight I am at the Rescue Rooms to see the March Violets for the first time in 37 years and I really haven’t been to anything this goth in probably the last 30 of those years. I’m talking mainly about the crowd here.

First up tonight is Kristeen Young who is mostly doing a Karaoke set with a load of hidden musicians although she does dabble at a keyboard. She pleasant enough and talks well, telling an interesting story about a D-Day veteran and her own then 18 year old mother while singing like Kate Bush in her operatic days. Overall Young, who gets 45 minutes, is a strange but satisfying experience.

Then on stage are Vision Video from Athens, Georgia and who also get 45 minutes for their punk goth or whatever you want to call it. Singer Dusty Gannon is an Afghan war veteran with a few stories of his own to tell. Both he, but particularly his colleague Emily Freedock, come in outfits that I thought were now banned or perhaps this is empowerment. They are also very chatty, interesting and do a cover of Joy Division’s ‘Transmission’.

 Now clear away the drum kit, it’s the March Violets.

This is only the second time I’ve seen them with the first time being in 1986 at the Nottingham Palais. At the time they were going through a pop phase and were led by Cleo Murray. They had a minor hit called ‘Turn To The Sky’ which I imagine is getting nowhere near the set list tonight because that phase is not regards as real Violets.

Guitarist Tom Ashton, who has been the only constant in the band over the years, was there that night but the other Violets original who is here tonight is singer Rosie Garland who left the band shortly before those gigs.

Those two got the Violets back together in 2010 along with another original member Si Denbigh when having just been a singles band they finally put together a proper album in 2014. Then sadly Denbigh suffered a stroke the following year. He can now no longer perform but now the other two have decided to return with William Faith on Bass. 

Garland says ‘If not now, then when?’ to the audience about them making another comeback with Denbigh’s absence probably in mind.

They open with ‘Crow Baby’ and rattle through other early classics such as ‘Radiant Boys’, ‘1 2 I Love You’ and ‘Grooving In Green’ along with ‘Made Glorious’ which is the title track from the 2014 album and the more obscure ‘Dress 4 U’. There were also two new songs.

Garland has great stage presence and prowls the stage while continuing to engage with the crowd between songs. She admits they are now all ‘old fuckers’ but continues the same theme of urging everyone to live life to the full as life is short and shouldn't be wasted. Get to see every band you want to see because one day it could be too late. Sound advice.

The set ended with the epic ‘Walk Into The Sun’ but they were soon back for an encore of ‘Strangehead’ followed by ‘Snake Dance’, a true goth anthem that still sounds immense.

It was a comparatively short set, just ten songs plus another two in the encore, probably due to having to give two support bands 45 minutes each to pay for it all but it was great while it lasted.