::: Exclusive Feature :::

3rd March
Had breakfast in the communal breakfast room and headed off early to the airport for the flight to Brisbane. This is our first internal flight and we go through the extended security check. In spite of years of travel and knowing all the ropes I still make mistakes. It makes no difference they keep changing the goal posts and there is always some trap waiting for me. Today my I.D. is safely packed in my bag but I retrieve it whilst the check in girl helpfully tells me that I should always carry it with me. I know this of course and have been travelling the world since before she was born, but I nod gratefully at this helpful advice whilst wondering if she sees me as a poor old boy who is already showing signs of dodderiness. Through the security check Richard has been pulled and is being advised that he cannot take his sheep shearing sized scissors on board. He is trying to explain that he doesn’t want to take his scissors on to the flight and that they can have them. It is then that the security man finds Richard’s Stanley knife.
“ I was wondering where that was!” is all Richard can manage.
Poor Richard inadvertently armed to the teeth tries to convince the guard that the knife is only for box cutting. Don’t mention that word I silently plead. The guard looks from one to another of us and eventually decides we present a threat only to ourselves and after confiscation of Richard’s weaponry we are allowed into the departure area. It is so mad and preposterous I can only laugh as the two apprentice hijackers totter off to the gate.
For once the plane has empty seats and I doze a little. I am tired today but not for long. It is so hot on arrival that it’s like breathing through a hair dryer that’s switched on. We pick up our hire car and head to the destination. The hotel is very nice and the vibe is good. The centre is the closest to a home concert hall that I have played so far. I feel good about tonight.
There is a washing machine in my room and someone helps me work out how to use it and I go for a stroll down the street. There is an active street market of hippie type stalls and as usual good humour and positive faces everywhere. I soak up a little colour and eat a snack before returning to the room, it is very hot.Sound check
For once this goes smoothly and my support act arrives. He is Gibb Todd and old friend from way back and close mate of Finbar Furey and the boys. It is good to see him and he looks so well and happy to be here. He has a quick sound check and we talk of mutual friends Billy Connolly and banjos and guitars. Gibb has a beautiful 12-year-old martin (not more guitars? Ed).

SHOW TIME
Gibb goes down a storm and the evening is a big success all round. The place is completely full and I get to meet some of the audience, many of whom are English. We then repair to the market area and eventually enjoy some late food with Gibb and Anne (his wife) and some helpers. The streets are full of young people merrily drinking and promenading. It is ferociously loud, busy, hot and no hint of aggression anywhere. We say fond good byes to Gibb and return to the hotel. Fall immediately asleep...
Up early for the flight to Melbourne.

4th March
It is another beautiful day and hot, very hot. We get some breakfast at the airport and soon are on our way. On arrival we are met by Peter and Jane Crone in their marvellous old VW camper van. Somehow we all manage to get aboard with all the various boxes and gear and roar off down the road to the winery where I will play an afternoon concert. The journey takes about an hour or so and we are moving out into farm country and woodland by turn and turn about. Everywhere the earth is brown and parched, there has been a drought here for many years. Once in the countryside there are no cars on this fine Sunday morning almost till we get to our destination when we meet one and have to pull off the single-track road to let him pass.
The entrance to the winery is picture perfect and has a rustic feel to it. It is known as Burke and Wills Winery in Mia Mia and is run by Andrew Patterson and his lovely wife Heather. Andrew arrived in Australia by Taxi having driven all the way in an old London black Cab. He was just visiting but is still here since 1974. He has long been associated with music and used to own and run the Melbourne Troubadour Club. We are greeted warmly by Heather and shown to our rooms. I move around my bed and scrape a deep scratch to my left shin. I must remember to give the bed a wider berth.
Through the window I can hear a duo playing Irish tunes and they sound really good. I look out and see about one hundred folks sheltering under a marquee from the fierce heat of early afternoon sun. Suddenly I hear a crack from the P.A. and fear that it will affect the sound but I am re assured that all will be well. Change into my stage clothes and cut an even deeper scratch on my right shin whilst moving round the bed. This upsets me slightly and apart from the pain I am annoyed.
There is a longish interval while attempts to get my IEM monitor system working. After a little longer I creep out behind the tent and wait whilst more fiddling with everything fails to produce my desired requirements sound wise. I think I can feel my guitar straining under the heat and fear it will go out of tune so we commence with only half the system working.
Things get worse for me and the heat and sound problems put me in a panicky mood and I lose my thread speaking to the very attentive audience. I have to abandon my monitor system entirely and pull out the headphones. The P.A. is minimal and very dusty from the dry outside situation. Andrew fights manfully with the old system and the full horror of my guitar sound is painful to my ear. The heat and anxiety have completely knackered my strings and the bass end sounds like I am picking on wet bits of rope. The audience however are willing me on and as the gig goes on I feel myself coming out of my bad feeling and working even harder to get it right. Sometimes this approach drives me deeper in but this time I can feel myself surfacing and I spend a lot of time talking between songs. In spite or may be because of all the difficulties. They are all very kind to me and I think it ended happily.
Afterwards some close friends of Andrew and Heather gathered together and we enjoyed a meal in great company. Heather has three Clydesdale horses which she clearly dotes upon and sitting out in the dust watching them amble about while the sun went down, lighting the sky with a second by second light show of incredible beauty was a great way to absorb this rugged homestead and vineyard. Much wine was consumed so look out for Burke and Wills next time and you will experience the wonderful taste of Australia that I shared with my Aussie friends. DIGTREE white and all the reds were fab.
Andrew and I sat up the longest and turned in after 3am with some early Linda Ronstadt in our ears from genuine vinyl recordings from the sixties. An unforgettable day for a dozen reasons.

5th March
Up early and a race back to Melbourne for our flight to Adelaide. We arrive safely but the guitar and effects monitor rack does not!
Ordinarily this would put me in a blind panic. Here in Australia I am more confident than anywhere that it will arrive on the next plane. Richard is wanted by the security police as he inadvertently pressed the button on the automated check in which says he is carrying inflammable liquids. We weren’t, so this request was ignored. I am expecting a police chase into Melbourne but it doesn’t happen.
Everyone is cool and sure enough the guitar is in our hotel by 4pm. Today is a night off and we meet another old friend Lee who takes me to an ABC interview. The guy’s name is Peter and he sings my praises to the point of embarrassment for me. He talks mainly of Streets but several people call in to comment etc. I am asked to play and chose “Around the Wild Cape Horn.” Unfortunately the Australian public will have to wait to hear if Irving Johnson and the crew ever made it as the 10 pm news came up and I was cut off somewhere short on the Atlantic side of Chile.
Afterward we went for nice Italian pasta and some wine. I wrestled with some other Aussie beer but I think I have found one that was Ok or perhaps my taste is changing. Bed about 1.30

6th March
We have had so many problems with the operatives not understanding how to plumb the FOHR into their systems that this morning we take the whole caboodle to a P.A. company called Derringers. Dave who appears to be the boss examines it all and pronounces it fit for purpose and then proceeds to try to simplify the operation further. Details would be surplus to your requirements dear reader but I am now confident that my Mum could put it together. We will see. At the end of an hour’s work Dave would accept no fee for his kind help so we bought the boys a crate of beers and I sent an A Zoo CD for his kids. Such kindness is really impressive and I am convinced that this is not unusual. Many times I have met with kindness and generosity with time from Australians. It used to be like that in England too. I am very grateful to Dave and all at Derringers in Adelaide for their professional help and generosity in helping us out.
At the theatre we are met by Martin who manfully struggles with the tiny system and two 802 boxes one on each side of stage.
My heart sinks. I have been so used to bigger systems for the last twenty years that this system will sound puny and already we cannot get it to work properly. After an hour we manage to pull all the stuff together and although inadequate to what I want, we can go to work. Tonight my support act is the very excellent John Monroe and Margaret Monks (she is a friend of my mate Jim McCann and his wife Philomena. She was actually at their wedding!)? The audience enjoy their performance and so do I. Margaret is an old friend of the Dubliners and we have many friends in common in Ireland. I felt I played well in spite of my sound system and folks were very complimentary so we went off with a light heart to a Chinese restaurant with Lee’s ex Brent Miller another great guitarist who was with Eric Bogle for many years) Doug Ashdown came to the gig too. It was great to see him. He says he misses playing and I hope he gets it together soon he is a lovely bloke and a fine songwriter and guitar player. Margaret and Lee made up the party and it was a nice way to end a difficult but ultimately rewarding day.