Happily Ever After

Life in The Rural Retreat with a beautiful wife, three cats, garden wildlife, a camera, a computer – and increasing amounts about running

Earlier posts can be found on Adventures of a Lone Bass Player, where this blog began life. Recent entries can be found here.

Time To Recover

by Russell Turner - 14:46 on 11 September 2016

We were over-optimistic about our return time following the gig at in Wick. The Waterfront’s main room is huge, so even a half-way decent crowd looks small, but it was big enough and enthusiastic enough to mean that packing up after the 2am finish was slowed by punters keen to share their appreciation that City Limits had played their favourite song or something by their favourite band. Def Leppard and Guns ’n Roses are big in Wick, it seems.

The evening was also notable for the first appearance of Keith’s fancy new digital  mixing desk which he controls from his phone. He’s not said what happens when there’s a poor signal.

Although the crowd could have been bigger, the management had expected a modest showing because of big local weddings. Despite that, it took more than an hour before we got away and it was 5.15am when The Rural Retreat came into sight. Fifteen minutes later I was asleep.

Twelve hours after that I made the much shorter trip to the Dingwall British Legion where, as expected, the wedding day schedule was running late and the meal had only just begun so City Limits did what all bands get most practice at – hanging around.

The evening reception followed the usual formula: small boys sliding, young girls in long dresses, older young girls in too-short dresses, young men in low-slung kilts, older women sporting fascinators, and older men determined to show off their rock and roll vocal prowess.

Two of our ceilidh sets – Gay Gordons and Strip The Willow – made their (occasionally dodgy) debut, to a pleasing response, but the waltz will have to wait for another time.

We packed up while – as usual – running the gauntlet of over-excited children inside the hall and gossiping smokers clustered just outside its main entrance who think a two-foot-wide gap is adequate for passage of heavy amplification. It must be good to have roadies.

I was home for midnight and up at nine, feeling more refreshed than expected – but not enough to run the mower over a very shaggy lawn. That’s tomorrow’s job. Maybe.

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