All the blowing themselves up muthafuckers. .

After playing the Steinway for posh people Sunday I drove down to Avebury, and walked the stone circle under the chilly inky sky, thanks to the extra hour kicking in after we ditched the BST gubbings. It was glorious!
Saw the Milky Way, didn't want to leave.
Headed to Marlborough, and stayed at the Crown. I went out to a few pubs and listened to Nick Drake as I walked the streets he walked (he studied in Marlborogh - and Three Hours From London is about the wide streeted town). I loved it . . had a special chow mien from the chinese next door.
Monday I saw the first two gigs of Julian Cope's Busking tour. The second one being in Chippenham at the Cochran marker I talked about. It was sunny and crisply Autumn and it was one of those morning where you just didn't want to be anywhere else and couldn't imagine anything more right.
It was again glorious!

You'll want to see piccies then . .

Cope salutes Cochran. I was erect!

Then I came back because I had to play myself . .

Then Tuesday I caught the coach to London and stopped in Camden Town, met up with more friends and saw the Killer grace a London stage for the sixth time, and it too was glorious.

And I've been eating and drinking like a Sun reader. So that's got to stop!
Happy Samhain!