On the road to nowhere

As a youngster I loved a pre Python TV show aimed at children called ‘Do not adjust your set’. Palin, Jones and Idle starred alongside Neil Innes and the Bonzo Dog Band. Denise Coffey also played many a part. One sketch involved a bicycle tour of the West Country ‘taking in Looe’.

I loved Looe as a place name. It contained all that a smutty schoolboy could desire in a place name. I made up my mind to visit one day, in the hope it would live up to my puerile imaginings. Such a surreally potty title, up there with Piddle Hinton, Shitterton,  Vagland and, well never mind.

Roll the clock on ten years and the longed for opportunity presented itself. My then girlfriend (now the Textiliste) adored Genesis (we all have our weaknesses) but tickets were like gold dust. However she joined a company where a colleague announced he too loved Phil et al; so much so that he belonged to the official fan club. As such he could pan us a couple of nuggets in shape of tickets for a concert on the next tour.

It is now 1981 and a new tour has just been announced. Garfield (near enough his name – a dopey cat that is nothing but trouble) passes on the good news. And the even better news he has indeed sourced 2 tickets (for her and her guest) to join him and his guest at the first concert on the tour. Whoop-de-doo. Cue much back slapping.

As the date approaches a couple of small logistical problems emerge.

First that first concert is in Looe a good four hour drive from London. Never fear says Cat Man he will hire a car and drive us.

Second, between acquiring the tickets and the date he is seconded from London to Brighton. Never fear says Cat Man we can catch the train to Brighton and we will drive from there – increasing the journey time by an hour – he says.

The day arrives. A B&B is booked – two rooms, how decadent – and we set off ludicrously early to be in Brighton for 9 on a Saturday. ‘My girlfriend will be on the same train,’ he tells us.

I will admit something here which I may have hidden from you, dear reader. I didn’t go big on Garfield. Spending time with him was rewarding in the sense that making your gums bleed when you clean your teeth is rewarding because it helps remove bacteria. I don’t make a huge effort to find his girlfriend on the train.

But the Textiliste has better manners than me, so as we exit the station for the collection zone we spot a young lady of our age, scanning the incoming cars hopefully. ‘Hello, are you Laura?’ The T offers her hand and her winningest smile which are both ignored and a back is pointedly turned.

Moments later The Puss Mobile pulls up next to the young woman and Cat Man emerges. He goes in for a kiss and misses by some distance. The Girlfriend is already in the back of the car, with arms so tightly folded that the dye in her pullover starts oozing from the collar.

I can be slow on the uptake, painfully so but the choice of front seat next to The Dear Leader suddenly appears a tad more appetizing than the misery zone in the back.

As we load our bag, the T and me have a quick confab.

‘What on earth’s wrong?’ I whisper.

‘No idea,’ says my better half. ‘They’ve only just started going out and I thought they were in the golden glow phase still.’

To anyone who contemplates a round Britain tour and finds themselves facing the leg from Brighton to Looe along the South Coast passing such gems as the New Forest, the Jurassic Cliffs at Lyme Regis and Dartmoor, my advice is, instead, check in to have your piles cauterized: it will be ultimately more useful and less painful. In any even it’s a case of ‘I wouldn’t start from here’.

It takes 9 hours. The tension mimics the hours leading up to the Cuban mission crisis. Every attempt at levity is squashed by the Miserablist in the backseat. Every break is spent with the T and me sitting together watching Garfield beg for some kind of forgiveness. The sourpuss seems animated in these moments. Lively but not happy. We do not have any chance to find out what the problem is.

Because we are so delayed we have to go straight to the concert venue to pick up the tickets. We do this while the Cat and his Whiskers drop the bags at the B&B.

We are sharing a well earned bottle when they return. G joins us while she visits the ladies, probably to drain excess venom. We are sympathetic. It has been a hard day for him. He flops down. ‘Bloody woman.’

‘Whats wrong?’

‘She’s utterly convinced I planned to bring my old girlfriend – she’s always been jealous whatever I say.’

‘Why does she think that?’

‘I didn’t tell her about this trip until the last minute as a surprise but she now thinks I only asked her because Laura couldn’t come.’

The T and I share an anxious glance. I say, ‘So Laura’s your old girlfriend?’

He laughs. ‘Yes, confusing isn’t it? She’s Lorna and the old one’s Laura. Imagine what Lorna’d be like if I confused their names.  Beer?’

About TanGental

My name is Geoff Le Pard. Once I was a lawyer; now I am a writer. I've published several books: a four book series following Harry Spittle as he grows from hapless student to hapless partner in a London law firm; four others in different genres; a book of poetry; four anthologies of short fiction; and a memoir of my mother. I have several more in the pipeline. I have been blogging regularly since 2014, on topic as diverse as: poetry based on famous poems; memories from my life; my garden; my dog; a whole variety of short fiction; my attempts at baking and food; travel and the consequent disasters; theatre, film and book reviews; and the occasional thought piece. Mostly it is whatever takes my fancy. I avoid politics, mostly, and religion, always. I don't mean to upset anyone but if I do, well, sorry and I suggest you go elsewhere. These are my thoughts and no one else is to blame. If you want to nab anything I post, please acknowledge where it came from.
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35 Responses to On the road to nowhere

  1. I do hope that is true 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  2. gordon759 says:

    Wonderful the problem a letter or so makes, reminds me of.

    The Bustard’s a fortunate fowl
    Who has no reason to growl
    For he is, you see
    Saved from illegitimacy
    By the sake of one altered vowel

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Mick Canning says:


    Liked by 1 person

  4. janmalique says:

    Sounds like you had a lucky escape.


  5. jan says:

    What a trip, oh boy. I hope the concert was worth it!


  6. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!! But it was all the Textiliste’s fault, so you can tell the story with impunity 😀

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Anabel Marsh says:

    Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band surely? Still quoted liberally in our house (not by me). And we’ve seen Genesis…….

    Liked by 1 person

    • TanGental says:

      Yes I’ve seen them twice. And yes sorry for the sloppy titling. The Bonzos were a huge part of my musical youth. I still have my vinyl Gorilla. *sighs* I never tire of Intro Outro.


      • Anabel Marsh says:

        I think our (read: his) vinyl might have gone to Oxfam some time ago, but we have it on CD. It was late 80s I think when we saw Genesis so they had got over (for me anyway) their early, boring phase. Invisible Touch was the album they were touring.

        Liked by 1 person

  8. Entertaining as ever, Geoff. Well constructed and well written, with punchline timed perfectly. (And what’s wrong with Genesis?)

    Liked by 1 person

  9. Oh-oh… What a barrel of un-fun that must have been. Absolutely loved your descriptions, Geoff… especially the folded arms and dye coming out the shirt from tension. Vivid, that one. 😀 Mega hugs!

    Liked by 1 person

  10. Norah says:

    Hilarious, Geoff! No embellishment! It’s a beauty. Thanks for sharing this gem.

    Liked by 1 person

  11. Ali Isaac says:

    Oh no! Disaster! My mother in law once called me by my husbands ex-wife’s name. I’m not so sure it was accidental, either lol!

    Liked by 1 person

  12. Ali Isaac says:

    And btw how was Looe?

    Liked by 1 person

  13. It’s the way you tell them, Geoff. Your life seems to be full of so many “oh dear” moments. I hope I don’t end up in one of those stories on here in 37 years time.

    Liked by 1 person

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