May 29 - Dot to Dot Festival - Thekla, Bristol England

The clouds pissed British gloom on Alan, Reid, and I. Mike emerged from the morning fog of his overnight in the van. Another morning, another English breakfast. Beans!

"You guys look a bit knackered," observed our host Gary. "Do you know what that means?"

The Dot to Dot Festival had come to Bristol, and The Bitter Tears were slotted a corner to play it. The van rolled up to a mess of tents and fences choked by a serpentine queue of indie blokes and indie birds. We checked in, grabbed our complimentary 4-packs of Red Stripe tallboys, affixed wristbands to our wrists, and walked toward Thekla.

Thekla is a boat, an oldish vessel, docked on Bristol's Mud Dock. We were the first band to play the afternoon stretch, beginning at 4pm. It was nice to have a backline already set up, so we only had to bring the guitars, the keyboard, and cymbals. But with the amps being huge Marshall stacks, the bar's tiny stage barely accommodated a quartet. I had to hoist myself up by the ceiling rafters just to climb over the drum kit.

With only thirty minutes per set, we stayed tight and upbeat. Tightish. During "Grieving" I tried to do gymnastics on the ceiling for the cymbal washes. I lost my balance and crashed into the kit. It might have looked like Gladys Ormphby ruining an innovative Lionel Richie video.

Reid's Reggae Ronald character has been interacting in the audience before the set. He was almost accepted by a few fashion-savvy indie cliques, but ultimately rejected thoroughly. Such is the life of Ronald. The boat hipsters seemed to like us though.

After the set we made way for a Dutch band that didn't like us, and hung out eating savory pies out of a box while watching festival kids. Then it rained and got boring. We were told we had to move the van. I suppose I liked Bristol during the three hours we had inhabited it. Performing on a boat again was fun.

We met up with our booking agent Simmo and his lovely fiance Helene in Nottingham. We treated at a vegetarian restaurant, where vegetables were consumed for the first time in 47 years. It felt weird and strange. I'm not sure my body was ready to adjust to something healthy, but you have to take chances in life. Our waiter, the chef, was a skeletal man with silver eyes whose voice growled and whose smile doubled as a checkerboard.

Afterward we relaxed at a pub with real ales until it closed at midnight. Then it was time to get rained on for the fourth time in a day.