Diary of a Spooky Man - Part 8
by Robbie Mills
Day 27 - Oxford
With a whole day off enjoyed at Canon Frome Court the Spooks were feeling fresh, and had our last breakfast and a lovely sing over a cup of coffee. We also began workshopping a much-anticipated epic to rival The Odyssey - the tale of The Revenge Of The Fatberg. More to come as we draw closer to its debut.
Our next stop was Oxford, home of Spooky Philip Read and about 5 of his choirs. We weren’t off to a great start however, as it was over 30 degrees and the AC in the back of one of our vans decided it had done enough for now. What followed was a good 2 hours of 4 Spooky Men in a shirtless and sweaty puddle, regularly being peeled off the leather seats and salvaging whatever moisture was available.
Against all odds we made it to Oxford, having shed a few kilos of water weight. Coincidentally this was where we picked the hire vans up in the first place, so we dropped off the offending oven back at the garage for them to do whatever it is that people who know how cars work do. We were then released into the public for a few hours before sound check at Olivier Hall. Now, while our time at Canon Frome Court was absolutely spectacular and delightful and wonderful and I am eternally appreciative, it was also vegetarian, and I am whatever the opposite of that is. I used this time to catch up on a few days of meat.
Olivier Hall was very exciting as it was air conditioned, and we got to bolster our numbers with many local choirs including Best Sing Since Sliced Bread, Man Choir, Oxford Proud Voices, Walrus Choir, and Starlings. The AC excitement was short-lived, as we jam packed the venue with a good 800 hot souls. It ended up being as effective as throwing an ice cube into the fires of Mount Doom. Up on stage it was eerily similar to being trapped in the folds of Big Dave’s undergarments.
This didn’t stop it from being a banger of a gig however. The choirs joined us for several songs, bringing incredible energy and a massive wall of noise. Outside of one of the poorest displays of a vocal warmup we’ve ever seen, the crowd was unbelievable as well. In the interval we were fortunate that the concrete outside was still nice and cool, so we had a pleasant lay down to recharge. Massive thanks to Tash and Phil Read for making the gig possible.
Day 28 - Yeovil
I picked up the van with the freshly-fixed AC, and we headed to Yeovil. This was a long drive, made longer by some stupendously narrow roads and manically-designed roundabouts. I can feel myself getting worked up and ready for a rant about English roundabouts, but I already did that in my 2024 blog, so I’ll be reserved this time and just say they’re dumb. I mean, 3 lanes becoming 5 and then randomly becoming 2 lanes again with no apparent right of way, and then also having traffic lights scattered throughout? Good lord. Ok I’m ranting again.
Anyway, we stopped off along the way for some Greggs sweet treats. I don’t know what it is about Greggs that is appealing to me. It is objectively not good in pretty much every way, yet it lures me in like a moth to a sexy moth. Fistfuls of yum yums (actually what they’re called) procured, next stop is the Westlands Entertainment Venue.
WEV was great - mostly because it had a bar that sold cake, but also because of the amazing lighting set up. The lighting team were actively matching tone and colour and movement to each song, which felt amazing from up on stage. The seating however was not centred to the stage, which caused great wailing and gnashing of teeth from the less neurotypically-aligned Spooks (90% of us).
The real highlight of the performance was a couple of young Spooky fans joining us up on stage for We’ll Give It A Go, brandishing a suitcase full of props and getting up to antics throughout the song. I wasn’t a big fan of the fake tarantula being tossed across the stage but once the urine had dried on my jeans the rest of the gig went swimmingly.
Day 29 - Falmouth
Thus begins the “mouth” leg of the tour: Falmouth -> Plymouth -> Sidmouth.
To the Cornish peninsula, which looks like a Lego arm by the way. Anywho, Yeovil to Falmouth was another solid trek of a few hours, and other than navigating a deluge of one-way streets and sharp turns on narrow streets, we got to Falmouth relatively unscathed. The weather was perfect, so we sampled the local Cornish pasties and beers by the waterside.
We performed to a sold out Church of King Charles the Martyr, including standing room in the back. It was also the first gig in a long time that wasn’t sweltering. We always love singing in churches and abbeys and crypts, as it gives us a great opportunity to get down around the audience for some acoustic singing. Another wonderful and generous audience, many of whom joined us up at the Waterview Inn afterwards for a boisterous pub sing. A big thanks to Spooky Man Seamus who gathered members of his own choir to attend, and also organised billet hosts.
Day 30 - Plymouth
This is mostly Falmouth day 1.5, as we were very big fans and wanted to spend as much time there as possible. After yet another Cornish pasty and a flat white, which turns out to be a gastronomically capricious combination, I took a meander to the nearby Pendennis Point and Castle and got sunburned like the idiot tourist that I am.
We all gathered back in Falmouth for more pasties before piling into the vans to head to Plymouth. We were performing at a theatre at a university, and didn’t have much of our usual opportunity to plunder the local town for sustenance. Some of us were better prepared than others (me) and had bought supplies along the way, while the rest of us had earl grey for dinner.
The Quad Theatre’s sound system required some pretty robust taming until we were happy with it, but once the stars aligned it was a real treat. The gig went off without a hitch which is always nice, but the antics began post-performance. A bit of time in the sun had loosened the brains of the logistical arm of the Spooks, which resulted in one of the vans taking not Brett, but Brett’s carefully crafted dinner instead. A hungry and grumpy Brett was squeezed into the middle seat at the front of the other van instead, and the Tour Manager was provided 20 lashes of the whip upon arriving at the Travelodge.
Our next step is the Sidmouth Folk Festival, a multi-day adventure and one of our favourite parts of the tour. I will be leaving you in the capable hands of my ghost-writer Nic Macken to avail you of this last leg of the tour as I’m going to be sodding off and doing my own thing. It has been an absolute pleasure.
Lots of love,
Robbie
