Monday, 14 February 2011
On our way to Leamington and the Laurence Llewelyn-Bowen-designed Assembly venue. I really don't know what to expect but it should be noted that roadies don't do fancy. I somehow managed to cram in two incredibly disappointing meals in Nottingham where we stayed for our day off. The first was a pitiful excuse for a roast chicken dinner served at the Yates's pub by the main square, not redeemed in any way by the "free" splat of crumble and custard masquerading as dessert. After Lee and John witnessed their beloved Everton getting thrashed by Bolton on a screen thirty feet wide a few of us ventured out to a curry house around the corner which (judging by the messages on their wall) comes highly recommended by much of the UK's celebrity elite, all of whom must have appeared at one time or another at the theatre across the road. Since the aforementioned meal I find myself urged to pen strongly-worded letters to, among others: Bob Carolgees, Little and Large, Christopher Biggins, David Essex, Lenny Henry, Dawn French, the bloke out of the "Confessions of..." films, and Whitesnake. I intend to ask why exactly they would recommend such bland, lukewarm and overpriced fare. Ah, thinking about it, I might have answered my own question there.