Liverpool- Barcelona and Beyond

My train to Liverpool was on Thursday morning at 10am, I still had jet lag from Atlanta, so a grumpy dull mangled hair Janey got on the train at Glasgow Central. Old people opposite me got on with a whole chicken, a flask of tea and a loaf. I don’t understand why folk need that much to eat on a train journey, its insane! Is there a famine?

The smell of the chicken was making me nauseous and all I wanted was a sleep. But it took THREE trains from Glasgow to Liverpool? How can that be possible? Didn’t the Victorians sort that out years ago?

Anyway, got to Liverpool as I was hosting the Funny Women heats at the Unity Theatre and I managed to get an hour nap before the show. The show went good, loads of women up on stage doing there thing and then I headed off back to the hotel as I was up at 4am for a flight from Liverpool to Barcelona. I didn’t bother sleeping as who can get up at 4am without screaming into a mirror and trying to get the tugs out of their own hair. The last time I got up at 4am with any purpose was to feed my new born child in 1986 and even then she didn’t like being awake and just slept more.

The taxi got me to the airport and I still find it odd to see loads of people awake at 5am drinking beer in an airport bar! The place was heaving with stag and hen parties, men dressed as women and girls dressed in pink glittery cowboy hats, all drinking booze and screeching in funny accents. I wanted a gun, a self loading never ending bullet gun to mow them all down. Am not good in the mornings as you can guess!

At least I am going to a sunny hot country I thought. I sat at the back of the easyjet plane and hoped I could be alone, but alas a big stag party of young men squeezed their big obnoxious beer smelly bodies in beside me.

“I am scared of flying” one spiky haired fat sweaty boy cried.

They all refused to turn off their mobile phones in case ‘Tracy Ann’ calls and the poor skinny orange clad air host bloke had to plead with them to turn off their phones. Again I wished for the gun.

Finally we took off, the big bloke beside me took off his trainers and the smell of his disgusting feet made me heave. No one in my family has stinky feet and I was dying crushed into that chair. Again the gun wishes took over.

“Are we gonna die?” the scared of flying acne ridden fat boy from Sheffield bleated. Finally I turned to him and said “yes, I hope we crash and finally I can get away from your annoying voice and his stinking feet”

They all laughed at the old lady stuck in the corner but they didn’t know she was eyeing up their foreheads for potential gunshot practise.

As we finally landed in Barcelona I looked out of the window and rain lashed the plane. It looked like Glasgow in July out there not Barcelona in May. The wind and rain pounded our backs and faces and we ran down the stairs to get into the hall to collect our bags.

Finally I got to the hotel and the lovely Stephen who runs the Giggling Guiri comedy club looked after me all the way. He is a cool guy and took me out for come coffee and walk round. We sat at a café table, I plonked down my phone and we chatted. A big tall dull eyed Romanian guy came over and covered my phone with his plastic covered begging letter then started chatting and asking for money. We both said ‘No’ and I realised he was trying to work my phone out beneath the sheet of paper into his hand. It is a scam they do here. I looked at his face as he pleaded with me and I slid my hand quickly under the plastic covered letter and whipped my phone out of his fingers and he panicked. Stephen got ratty with him as he noticed the guy was trying to steal my phone as well. The man walked off and went to try another stupid person who leaves their IPhone on a café table.

The gig at night was great; I have never played in an authentic cave like venue before. It was as if they scooped the earth out with their bare hands and covered it in small coloured glass in an amazing arty fashion. Barcelona has amazing architecture as you can imagine.

The show went awesome, though I was tired near the end of it. To help people to see me I stood on a chair and then realised my knees would be locked standing on a hard stool for an hour, my legs ached like hell after it!
After the show I was so exhausted I headed to the hotel and straight to bed and crashed out. So now Saturday will see me back at the gig in Barcelona and then Sunday I get a train to Madrid and do it all over again. The sun has come out a wee bit….hoorah!