Well, summer’s here, and the time is right… for drinking heavily in Swindon pubs it would seem. A jolly evening in the Royal Oak, Lou and I rolled up with our shiny (okay, then, shabby) PA all nice and repaired, and were greeted by a worried-looking Ben. “I’ve lost Stuart”, he says. “He went to park the car about twenty minutes ago, I’ve set all his kit up for him, and he’s still not back yet. You how he gets lost driving around Swindon…”
Just as he is saying this, we see Stuart drive majestically past; and so, giggling helplessly, we unload the van; when we’ve finished, just as I hop back in to park it, Stuart comes driving past for another lap. He follows me, as we drive 30 seconds round the corner to the large clearly-marked car park, and we stroll back to the pub to finish setting up.